“What?” asked Zoey again, more slowly, as she struggled to sit up in her bed.
“There’s an inspector downstairs,” said Alice. “Flashed an authentic looking badge, and said that they wanted to talk with you. They said that Sean was killed last night.”
“What happened? How did he die?” started Zoey. “They couldn’t think that I…”
Her mother didn’t say anything except, “Just get dressed as fast as you can. They’re waiting for you in the sitting room.”
Zoey was somehow expecting the inspector to be a small man in a crumpled trenchcoat. Instead, the inspector was a slender woman with haunted eyes and wry lips. Standing behind her was a nondescript broad shouldered man in a suit. Was this going to be good cop / bad cop?
The inspector stood up as Zoey approached them. “I apologize for waking you, but time is of the essence in these types of investigations.”
“What type of investigation?” asked Zoey as they both sat down.
“I am Detective Maureen Fairborn, and this is my colleague, Walter Simmons.” She pulled a slim pad from her jacket pocket. “We’re here, because you were one of the last people to speak with Sean White yesterday.”
“Sean’s dead?” asked Zoey, her voice cracking as she said it. “My mother told me, that you said…”
“Unfortunately, yes,” said Maureen. “His body was found in the Wintermute Co parking lot, just a few hours ago. Apparently, he was working late, and as he was leaving, something attacked him.”
Zoey’s hands covered her nose and mouth as tears burned her eyes.
“By the look of the scene, something was trying to take him away, but he resisted. It’s possible that he was going to be taken like the others.”
“What others?”
“That’s right,” said the inspector. “You only came back to Earth the other day.”
“Yes.”
“It’s funny, because before I came here, I ran a background check on you. You’re clean, maybe too clean. The thing is I couldn’t find a ticket with your name on it for any arrivals for the past week. Explain that to me.”
“Well,” started Zoey.
“Now please.” The inspector’s voice was curt and authoritative.
“Okay, I didn’t take a regular flight home, but I don’t see how this has any bearing on the case.”
“I need to establish the exact time you have been on-planet. Now, who brought you to Earth?”
“I’m afraid that’s going to be hard to explain. My ride went back to wherever he’s from.”
“Mars?” asked Maureen.
“No.”
“Then where?”
“Further out.”
“Out? Out where?”
“As in outer space,” said Zoey finally.
“This is a serious matter,” reminded Maureen. “I don’t have time for jokes."
“You wanted the truth.”
“Yes, I did. Not some urban legend of aliens from outer space. Do I make myself clear?”
“But…”
“I don’t care if you’re some starchild hippie or Rick Daring’s assistant, I want the truth.”
“Daring? You know him?” asked Zoey.
“The story of the man who helped aliens and left with them to the stars. Everyone has.”
Zoey didn’t say anything.
“Look, this is fairly routine. Let’s not make too much of a hassle of it. Answer my questions, and I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
“Okay.”
“You knew the deceased?” started Maureen.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since high school.”
“Did you ever sleep together?”
“No.”
“Did you love him?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” replied Zoey sharply.
“Listen, kid, I decide what’s relevant. It’s called motive.” Maureen jabbed a finger at Zoey.
“But I don’t know any of these other people. You won’t even tell what’s been going on. This all feels like entrapment or something.”
“I know you’re clean,” said Maureen. “But something doesn’t add up with you and the stories you’re telling. What are you hiding?”
“I told you everything. You don’t believe me.”
Walter cleared his throat.
“Anyways, about the previous day,” said the inspector. “Was there anything he told you that was suspicious or out of the ordinary?”
“I wouldn’t know what ‘out of the ordinary’ is anymore.”
“Did he say anything to you that hinted that he was in trouble or needed help?”
“No,” said Zoey. “He told me that he was in charge of some project from the government and that he couldn’t talk about it.”
“I see.”
The questioning went on for an hour more. Zoey could feel the inspector’s redundant inquiries erode her mental well-being. All during the interview, Zoey could hear the emails piling into the inspector’s pocket pad. All she had to do was close her eyes, and she could read them.
After the inspector and her subordinate left, her parents started their own interrogation, but Zoey knew less than the police did. She made her way to her room, apologizing to her parents as she shut the door in their faces.
Zoey collapsed on the bed, drained again. Fatigue rushed through her body, numbing her. She was too tired to even cry. She buried her head in her pillow and tried to fall asleep.
After lunch, Zoey waited until her parents left the house to run some errands before going up upstairs to her room. There, she pulled a transparent plastic storage case out from under her bed. In it were her laptop and various other equipment that she had used back when she moonlighted as a hacker.
She cleared off her desk and started to set everything up. She could just use her enhanced mind, but Zoey wanted to know if she still had her old skills, and it would be good to see data on a screen for a change.
Her hands slid over the laptop’s stainless steel casing and spread it open. Her finger pressed the on button, and the touch pad lit up.
Zoey wondered if her neighbors ever noticed that she had hacked into their wireless network to bounce her signal off of. Apparently not, she thought as her computer connected without a problem.
It wasn’t hard to gain access to the local police station’s system. They were hardly the FBI, and who would want to hack into their system anyway?
This girl would. Zoey pulled up the files relating to Sean’s death. She examined the photos from the scene of the crime. It had happened outside in the parking lot, near his car. He was probably ambushed as he was about to leave. One picture showed a large claw mark raked against the side of his car.
What could have done this? Had someone done this to get to me, someone who had followed me to Earth? Zoey kept flipping through the pictures trying to find out. Unexpectedly, she came across a picture of Sean’s body, and Zoey physically turned away, unable to look at it.
Breathing harshly and feeling lightheaded, she exited out of the program without looking at it. She closed her laptop and walked downstairs. Feeling the need for fresh air, she stepped out onto the porch.
Zoey took a deep breath. As she exhaled, she happened to look across the street. There, in the daylight, was a strange-looking owl perched on one of the branches of a tree. Its metallic feathers sparkled in the sunlight. It stared at Zoey for a moment longer and then flew away.
“What the hell is going on around here?” Zoey wondered as she watched it disappear. It didn’t really matter right now.
There was a funeral to go to.
Click here to read Chapter 4
Written by J M Emmons. The story and all characters are copyrighted by J M Emmons.
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