Steal My Life
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!
Chapter Eleven
"911, please state your emergency," said a bored operator after George arrived home with gifts in his arms, only to find Sofia's dead body in their bed. He had immediately dialed 911 on the home phone.
"My wife—there's blood, lots of blood…. I think she's dead," he said nervously.
"Sir, what happened?"
"I came home and she's just lying there… There's blood everywhere… So much blood…"
"Sir, I need you to calm down. Where are you?"
George rattled off the apartment's address and smiled when she said that an ambulance and the police were on their way.
Everything's going to plan… the lying little bitch is dead, I have an alibi, and he'll be blamed for it… I'm going to get away with everything.
Police swarmed the tidy apartment. Cameras flashed and whirred, police officers took notes and reports, while other collected and marked evidence. At the center of the circus stood George King, with a tear-streaked face, as he paced a small expanse of floor. His hands shook and he was in shock, unlike a large number of husbands who found their dead spouses. He was far from a calm, in-control businessman.
"Who would do something like that?" he asked the police officer in charge. "How could anyone do that to her?"
"Mr. King, did your wife have any enemies?"
"Sofia? No, everyone loved her. No one would ever want to hurt her." Except for me—I killed the lying little whore.
"Well, I'm sorry to say that someone did want to hurt her. Someone killed her."
"I-I still can't believe it. It's unreal. She can't be dead—she was so full of life… It's seems like just yesterday we were married and now…now this…" he choked.
"These things happen," said the officer emotionlessly. "Would you mind being fingerprinted to eliminate your prints from the scene? It might help us find her killer."
"Am I a suspect?"
"Not at the moment."
"Did—did she suffer?" he inquired, his voice choked up again and fresh tears falling from his crystalline eyes. She better have… stupid bitch…
"No," lied the police office. There was plenty of evidence to suggest that Sofia King had still been alive for several minutes after being shot. There was evidence that she had tried to phone for help, but had been unsuccessful.
"I should have just come home," sighed George, shaking his head sadly. "If I had only come straight home, then maybe—just maybe—she'd still be alive."
"Where were you, if not at work?"
"I went downtown to one of her favorite stores after stopping in a jewelry store. I finished up early at work and I wanted to surprise her with some gifts…" His eyes fell to the discard pile of gifts lying near the bedroom door. He had dropped them upon spotting Sofia's motionless body. "I can't believe this…"
George buried his head in his hands and the officer muttered a quick "We'll be in touch" and left him to grieve.
A few days later…
George sat in a rough metal chair in an interrogation room at the station. He had been questioned about his life with Sofia, and how things were between them, and so on. He was very bored with the invasive questions and was counting down the seconds until he assumed he would be free to go.
"Mr. King, did you know that your wife was having an affair?"
George froze. "Sofia? You must be kidding. She loved me and I loved her! I gave her everything that she could have wanted!" Yet, she still betrayed me!
"I know this is hard for you, Mr. King, but did you know this man?" A photograph was pushed across the table and placed in front of his eyes.
"Is this him? Is this the guy who murdered my wife?" He turned his blue-eyed gaze towards the annoying officer who merely nodded.
"We believe so."
"Let me at that son of a bitch! He killed my wife! He killed my Sofia! My sweet, sweet Sofia…" Sweetheart, why did you have to do this to me? Why did you have to go and betray me? We could have been happy together…
"I'm sorry, Mr. King, but he's already dead. He committed suicide shortly after killing your wife."
"How? I hope that bastard suffered!" he growled bitterly. Serves him right for stealing her from me…
"It was rather quickly and painless. He shot himself in the head with the same gun used on your wife."
"Why? Why would he kill her?" Let's see if you're smart enough to figure this puzzle out, assholes…
"Apparently your wife was pregnant. It is possible that she believed it was his and she panicked. If she told him, then maybe we have a motive if she threatened to tell you about the affair."
"A baby?" George went paper-white; turning as pale as a blank white sheet. "She had a baby?"
"It was only a few weeks old at most." How dare she?! How could she do this to me?
"Can't you do some kind of test? See who was the father?"
"We'll need a DNA sample from you."
"Whatever you need. I want to find out what happened. I need to know why she died like that. I need the truth." How dare you hide this from me!
Author's Notes:
George is enjoying messing around with the police officer. He is really starting to crack and is putting on a rather convincing show of the upset and grieving husband. He's really disoriented, therefore details and names escape him (hence the nameless police officer and other vague details). In the next chapter, George will attend Sofia's funeral and he's almost about to become Jackson Rippner—I promise. Also, we'll see what happens with Lisa. Thanks for reading/reviewing! Once again, this chapter wasn't edited, so I apologize for any all mistakes.