The day was still young, and the trial was already over. To be honest, Ethan hadn't really expected it to end the way that it did. Not with the confession of the witness, but with Apollo winning the case. The evidence had all been against him, and Klavier was a formidable prosecutor… even if he was a little over his head.
Ethan tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He felt the vertical shoulder holsters press against him on either side. The holsters themselves were empty; obviously firearms were not allowed inside the courthouse. Besides, people tended to act edgy around him when his handguns were visible, and for good reason. That's why he tended to wear his jacket a lot. Still, he had them for a purpose. Being a detective had its risks, and he had encountered incidents where force was needed.
But because they were empty, Ethan just felt awkward. He was one of the first to leave the courtroom after its end. His truck was waiting in the parking lot. His two firearms were tucked away in the glove compartment.
'I'll go get them, and then head back to see if Terry needs a ride home. Daina's going to be ecstatic when she finds out,' he thought cheerily as he weaved between parked cars. Eventually, he caught sight of his own vehicle a few spaces ahead. As he neared, he noticed a folded piece of paper tucked under his windshield wiper. Ethan slowed down, but then quickened his pace. What was that? A parking ticket?
"Are you shitting me?" he mumbled to himself. "C'est des conneries! I didn't violate anything!" He stopped by the truck. It wasn't a ticket.
It was a note. There was large writing on the paper, but it was folded up and couldn't be read. Ethan reached over and pulled the page out, opening it up. The message covered the entire paper, and each letter had been written over several times.
NO ONE IS INNOCENT, ETHAN.
A chill ran down the detective's spine. His arms pricked up with goose bumps. Ethan looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the gleeful face of the prankster peeking at him from behind a car. The lot was empty, save for a few people getting into their cars and pulling away. The majority of the trial's participants were still crowded in front of the courthouse.
Ethan looked back down at the paper. Then, he flipped it over. And what he saw made his blood run cold.
It was a childish drawing of two people standing under a bright yellow sun. One person, a boy, was taller than the other, a girl. This picture had been made years ago. The child who had drawn it was the tiny girl in the picture—little Sophie Tache. This was one of the drawings of his little sister's that Ethan had brought with him when he moved to LA. He kept all of them in his office, which was currently locked.
Including this one.
Ethan quickly unlocked his door and ripped the door open. He lunged for the glove compartment and yanked it open. The two guns were still there. He snatched them up and tucked them into their holsters.
Then, he took out his phone and quickly scrolled through his contacts. He stopped at one: Lewis. He was a security guard, and a good friend, who worked at Criminal Affairs.
As Ethan listened to the phone ring, he drummed his fingers against the hood of the truck. His heart was racing. Finally, he heard the familiar, "Hello?"
"Lewis, has anyone been to my office this morning?" Ethan asked hurriedly.
"Your office? Uh… no, I don't think so. Wouldn't the front desk ring you up if someone was looking for you?"
"No, I don't mean that. I mean has anyone gone up to my office? Check the security cameras. It should be camera number…. Ah…" Ethan tapped his temple. "I don't… look, just look over footage for the fourth floor, west hallway. Can you do it now?"
"I… I guess? What's this about?"
"Someone's broken into my office!" Ethan said. He pulled himself into the driver's seat of the truck. "I'm headed over now. Check that footage!" He tucked the phone away and revved the engine.
Trucy waited until they were away from prying eyes and cameras before she pumped her fists in the air. "Yeah, I knew it!" she yipped. "We rock!"
Apollo couldn't seem to share her enthusiasm. Sure, he won the trial. But for some reason, it felt… wrong. He was quite sure that Luna had been the killer, but her confession spawned more questions than answers.
"Come on, Polly. The least you can do is look a little bit happy! Party pooper," Trucy scolded, noticing his somber look.
"I don't know. I feel like—."
A brisk clearing of someone's throat cut him off. Both looked over to see Terry standing behind them, her arms crossed over her chest. "Listen, I, uh…" she began quietly. Then, in a rougher, more familiar voice, she said, "Yeah, thanks for… well, you know."
"No pr—."
"No problem!" Trucy chirped. Apollo's mouth pressed together tightly at being interrupted for a second time. "So how have you been?"
"Well, I finally got away from the damn cameras. Asshats make you feel more like a bug under a microscope than a celebrity," Terry grumbled. "But I'm just glad I can go home. I can go now, right?" She eyed Apollo.
"Uh…" Apollo meant to agree, but Terry staring at him like that made him too nervous to think straight. It looked as though she were about to snap his neck if he uttered a single syllable to her disliking.
"Don't tell me I have more bullshit paperwork."
"No, you're good! It's over."
Terry finally lowered her arms. "Good," she sighed. Her eyes flickered to something over in the parking lot. Apollo heard the roar of an engine and the screeching of tires. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a silver truck zooming by. As it sped by, Apollo caught a split-second glimpse of Ethan inside. Then the car passed. Apollo wasn't quite sure, but he thought Ethan looked… panicked?
"Wow. Looks like someone's in a hurry," Trucy noted.
"He's probably off to tell dear sister the news," Terry guessed. "He's always eager to make her happy."
"Oh, how sweet!" Trucy cooed. "They sound so close!"
"Daina and Ethan? Yeah, they go way back." Terry glanced over her shoulder. Luckily, the cameras had not found her yet. "Anyway, I'm off before the mosquitoes catch the scent of my blood again. So, well… thanks guys." She slipped her hands in her pockets and began walking away.
Trucy gave Apollo's sleeve a sharp tug. "You could've offered her a ride home!" she hissed.
"Oh my bike?"
"He did what?"
"I know! Not a single peep, not even a glance! And I said 'good morning, Detective' to him all sweetly, too!" the woman sniffed.
"That's awful! So he just ran past you?" her companion gasped.
"Yeah! He went back there into the security room."
"Oh, Janice, honey, don't let it get you down! He probably didn't mean it! I mean, he's probably the only person here who bothers to remember our names! And they're right freaking here!" she reached out and straightened her nameplate on the reception desk.
"I know! And he's so cute and nice and everything! Too bad he's always hanging out with that forensics girl. Ugh."
"Right?" The front desk's phone rang. She picked it up. "Hello, Criminal Affairs…. Mmkay, can you hold for a moment, sir?" She pressed a button and put the phone back down. "She's such a nerd! I bet she doesn't own a single thing from Gucci."
"I know!"
"Are you sure?" Ethan demanded, glancing at the screen.
Lewis gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes, Ethan. I'm sure. Look, you can see it yourself!" He tapped on the screen. "The only person who went into your room this morning was her." Below his finger was the paused security footage. It showed the kindly old janitor entering Ethan's office. "She goes in there every morning, remember? I'd hardly call that a break in."
"But…" Ethan mumbled. He wasn't quite sure what to think. It was seriously doubtful that the elderly janitor would take one of his pictures and scribble that strange note. "Okay. Thanks, Lewis."
"Sure," the guard replied absently as he pulled open a bag of chips. Ethan walked out of the room. His brow was furrowed with concern. There was no explanation of how the picture left his room. He had stopped by his office and saw no evidence of tampering on the door. Nothing in his room was different except for the missing picture.
The detective sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The only possibility he could think of was that someone who had visited his office had taken it without him noticing. Still, that didn't offer him much reassurance. The note creeped him out. But it looked like he had no choice but to attribute it to someone with a sick sense of humor.
She hummed to herself as she polished the shelf with the cleaning wipe. The vacancy of this place was clearly evident. A couple hours of cleaning and sorting, and the place still wasn't up to living standards.
Mordecai sat on the floor behind her, watching her. His mouth was parted, tongue hanging out.
"You could help, you know," Daina said playfully to the German Shepherd. He began wagging his tail, dragging it against the floor. "Well, I guess that counts. Thanks Mordy." The dog suddenly got up and scooted out of the room. In a heartbeat, Mordecai returned carrying his favorite stuffed giraffe in his mouth. He trotted up to Daina, looking at her expectantly.
"I'm busy, baby." The dog continued to stare at her with wistful eyes. "Now don't you use that on me. You know I'm no match for your puppy eyes." More staring. "Mordy, go away, you spoiled little brat!" She pushed him away gently with the side of her foot.
Mordecai let out a defeated whine and moped over to the corner with his head low. He plopped on the ground and sadly gnawed at the toy giraffe. Daina watched him in her peripheral vision as she finished the shelf and began cleaning the nightstand.
Finally, with a sigh, she dropped the wipe. "You're making me feel so evil!" she cried. She knelt down on the ground and patted her knees. "Come here, Mordy!" The dog jumped up and dashed over. He flung the giraffe into Daina's lap and began racing in circles.
Daina picked up the giraffe and waved it around. "You want it? Mordy, do you want?" The German Shepherd danced around, his tail going crazy. "Go get it!" She threw it out of the bedroom. Mordecai raced after it. Daina peeked out the door and watched him speed to where it was and snatch it up in his jaws. Then he dropped on the floor and began writhing around as though he were wrestling with the giraffe. Finally, when he had successfully "killed" his prey, he got up and trotted triumphantly over to Daina. He dropped the slimy giraffe in front of her.
Daina regarded it with a grimace. "Real nice, Mordy," she commented. Suddenly, there was loud knock on the door. Her eyes flew to it. Was that… Terry? She had told Daina that the trial would most likely end today. Joyously, she stood and hurried to the door.
It was then she felt something tug her back. Daina looked back and saw Mordecai pulling at the hem of her shirt. "Not now!" she scolded. But the German Shepherd released her and ran in front of her. He faced the door, ears pinned and teeth bared. Daina hesitated, watching the dog with concern. What was with him? If it was Terry, he should be excited.
A deep, throaty growl escaped Mordecai. Suddenly, he jumped at the door and began barking at the top of his lungs. Daina was horrified. All desire to open the door was gone. It definitely wasn't Terry. And Mordecai hardly ever barked, especially with this ferocity.
She crept closer to the door to check that the lock was in. The doorknob began rattling. Daina jumped back, a hand over her mouth. Mordecai barked more intensely, pouncing back and forth at the door. Suddenly, the rattling stopped. Then Mordecai slowly began to calm down. He turned around and pressed himself against Daina's leg. But she could only stare at the door.
Addendum: I don't believe it! Is this story back from the dead? Ahhh! It's a zim-zam-zombie!
But yeah, to all of my followers: I am very sorry for long gap. Honestly, I lost motivation for this story for a while, and I also started up another story. Good news, though! I will be starting this story up again!
I'm pretty sure Ema has the DNA Extraction Kit by Gucci.
