Hello!
So this has been a fun story so far and there hasn't even been the biggest action scene yet. I'm so thankful for the review from the anonymous person and I would love to see the number of reviews rise with the views.
This one is fairly short and just descriptive.
Thank you so much everyone and enjoy.
~Lucid3762
His house wasn't as grand as I expected, but on his cop salary, I remained silent. It was a simple white apartment complex with a green lawn and white railings and a blue roof. Now, inside, was luxurious. It was very roomy, with the first thing you see is the kitchen, built into the living room. In the living room was a desk and brown bookshelves stacked with books horizontally and vertically. The desk was cluttered with paper, police reports most likely, and a computer. White walls covered the place and a grey rug upon a wooden floor held a coffee table. Across the table was a small TV beside a small tableside lamp. In an organized way, the house was cluttered.
"I know it's not much," said Dexter, "but it's what we got."
"We?" I asked, turning my head to face him.
"You and me." he told me, the comfort was not in his voice. I just nodded and walked into the living room.
"Nice place." I commented.
"Huh," he said, obviously his mind was elsewhere, "Oh, yeah, thanks.". I'd have to keep my eye on him, if what Brian told me was true, he was a murderer.
"So," I said, "where am I to live?"
"Uh, I can make a bed out of the couch, and you could sleep there I guess." He said, his uncertainty showing. Poorly, I commented silently, his acting may need some work. My head turned up towards him as he walked around behind me and to the couch, "I'll grab the blankets and pillows." he turned towards a closet, got out a blanket, and stopped, "Do you like one or two pillows."
"Two pillows will do, thank you." I paused, acting was hard, but it was worth it, "Thank you, also, for letting me stay here. Especially since-" I stopped, pause again.
"Oh yes, uh, don't worry and don't stress about Mr. Summers, we'll get the killer." he reassured me.
"I'm sure you will.." I told him. Stay quiet, I ordered myself. I gave him a smile and walked into the living room and set by bag on the floor in front of the couch. In his house, I can get close, maybe close enough to get him to spill about Brian. I'll talk about it in the morning. I needed to plan out my work, he found the first body, I'm closer than I thought I was, but now he just needed to give me a reason, like he knew Brian.
"You hungry?" my thoughts were cut in the kitchen.
"Um, I don't want to bother." I told him.
"No, its no trouble. Would you mind if Debra, the woman from the precinct came to dinner?"
"You're girlfriend?" I asked, I had to be oblivious to his life, even though I looked into his life as far as records held. He was a normal kid, taken in from a crime scene by an officer Harry Morgan and was the new son and the sister of Debra Morgan. Harry died of a heart problem and I couldn't remember much on the Morgan mom. In the younger years of Dexter he was accused of killing a dog, now that was something I had to dig for. But I hardly got any other insight than what Brian gave me. Brian's story was that him and Dexter were brothers until the murder of his mother, Laura Moser. Harry took him in but left Brian because he looked like an already fucked up kid in two feet of blood. But when Brian went to go and talk to Dexter, he was not heard of again. Not until I saw on the news that he died. Suicide, they said. He wouldn't have done that, I knew him, all too well. Brian wasn't suicidal, and he wasn't the person who would go out like that. He told me two things were gonna happen on the trip; either he was gonna bring Dexter home, or he will be shot down by cops. Neither of that happened, or so I was told.
God, I thought to myself, I should have kept him home. I could feel tears about to come so I stopped thinking about Brian and finally refocused to my surroundings. Debra was there, when did she get here? We were at the coffee table eating a steak and a baked potato with a side of green beans. Debra was in front of me looking at me and trying to get my attention, so was Dexter.
"I'm sorry, what?" I asked.
"Jesus, she's really fucked up about this." Debra stated.
"Deb." Dexter said to his step-sister.
I took this as an opportunity, "I-I was just thinking of dad. He wasn't the best, but he was all I had."
"Shit," Debra said, "sorry."
"Don't be, you didn't kill him." I told her and looked down at my hands. Nice job, I praised myself. But did they believe my lie?, "So you wanted to ask questions?"
"You don't have to push yourself." Dexter told me.
I smiled and nodded, "I know I don't, but anything I can do to bring the killer to justice is worth the pain.". With that, they went into questions, was there anybody who had it out for Mr. Summers, how long had I lived with him, etc. Normal questions that brought Mr. Summers to life. When they had their fill of answers and food, they took the dishes and brought them to the kitchen. While I sat there, they had a side conversation; I honed in my hearing.
"Should we consider her a suspect?" Debra asked him.
"Well, I don't know Deb." I heard Dexter reply, "She seems innocent."
"Everybody seems innocent Dex, but you and I know better than anyone that no one is who they say they are." Debra countered, "Well, it was nice to question her without cameras up my ass."
"Yeah." he said. I looked back at him; he had the same look Brian did when he was deep in thought. They were similar in almost every way, except for Brian having raven hair and Dexter being blond. Debra hardly looked like him, I guess some would argue that their faces were close, but I wouldn't listen. Brian told me specifically that him and Dexter were brothers by blood and that was why he left, to get his attention and bring him home. I watched as he slowly made his name with his first kill and gave so many subtle hints to "try and jog his memory." said Brian. A painting of the nails, the occupation, eventually a room of blood, etc. The last call Brian gave me was the day before they found his body, he told me that this was the night he was going to get Dexter on his side. I stayed up all night waiting for a reply, but the only thing I recieved was a news report that the Ice Truck Killer was found dead in the house he had, everything was pointed to suicide. I couldn't believe it, he wouldn't do that, even if he could save everyone he loved. I figured I had to investigate, so that's why I was here, why I murdered John Summers, why I acted. Now I just needed to get someone to confess something, anything that had to do with the case, if there was one anyway. I plotted to go with Dexter to the station and look through the files. Harshly, I was snapped back into reality by Dexter saying he was going to bed and it wouldn't hurt to follow in pursuit. I got changed into loose baggy clothes and lied on the make-shift bed and covered myself in the white blanket I received. This will do, I told myself, this will do.
