When I got to the station I was greeted by a male receptionist, and the name tag on the desk said Jonah Hose.
“How can I help you Miss?” He asked when I walked up to the desk.
“Detective Button called me and told me to see him hear.”
“May I have your name?”
“Alright.” he picked up his phone and dialed 99. “Charles, there's a Miss Claire
Jones to see you.” a pause. “Alright.” He hung up and turned to me. “You go straight now this hall behind me and he's on the ninth door on your left.”
I did as he said, knocked on the door and walked in. I found both Detective Anderson and Detective Button sitting in the room. Looking at each other with scowls.
“Am I intruding on something?”
“No. We were just finished, come in and close the door.” I did as I was told and then sat next to Detective Anderson.
“There was something you wanted me to listen to and identify?”
“Yes.” Detective Button lifted up the lid of this laptop, quickly punched in the password and the clicked play.
The voice was like melted chocolate and it was saying,
“I love you my Branwen. Run away with me. I've booked us 2 one-way tickets to Italy and we'll never look back.”
A laughter so unique and familiar came through the computer speakers.
“Don't worry about your friend. She'll get over it, in time. Meet me at the old abandoned warehouse by the pier.”
I felt myself going numb, my head began to spin, my breathing grew rapid and shallow. I had to get out of there. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“Is everything alright, Miss Jones? You look a little pale.” asked Detective Anderson.
“Do you recognize the voice?” Detective Buttons interjected abruptly.
“We suspect whoever murdered Emma knew her and may have been acquainted with you.”
“It can't be... it doesn't make sense... we are so happy... I must be imagining things...” I got up to leave and the room began to spin. I fell back into my chair.
Detective Anderson put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Please, take a deep breath and place your head down between your knees. We don't want you passing out.”
“Who do you think it is??” Detective Button asked with greater annoyance.
“Charles, I think Miss Jones can use a minute, don't you? Why don't you go get her some juice.” Detective Anderson gently replied as he handed me a brown paper bag. “Just in case you feel sick to your stomach.”
Sick to my stomach is the least of my concerns right now. What I was going to do with the information? That was most important. If what I thought was true, what did that say about me? What was real? Who could I trust? Do I tell them? What if I was wrong? Could my friend really have betrayed my trust? She wasn't the type... he must have smooth talked her, used her. He could smooth talk granite off the mountain. If I tell is it revenge or justice?
I decided on justice.
I slowly sat up.
Detective Anderson inquired, “Do you want to say something?”
“I've known Emma for a long time, she was very naïve. As much as I think I love him, if who I think it is, then for Emma's sake... I think it's my boyfriend, Drew.”
Detective Button returned with the juice. I told them about my date at the cemetery tonight. As I sipped the juice slowly, we formulated a plan to discover Drew.