Sorry it took so long to update. I'm really busy, what with Calculus and English, which I'm failing by the way. The English, I mean, which is pretty funny considering what I do on my free time (i.e. write), but hey, what can I do? Anyway, I hope you enjoy my next chapter. Happy reading.
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"I can't believe I'm doing this," I say to Gabrielle, who is staring at me, apparently thinking the same thing. I'm inside an old banquet hall, which, let me say, is located in the middle of nowhere country-land. The place is so freaking old that even its name is unreadable. All I can see is a scratchy letter B printed on the entrance. It's also completely deserted and probably burned down a few times.
"This is the place," she says. "This is where I was…where I was…where…"
"Yeah, I get the point," I say. This is where she was killed. Thisis the "somewhere quieter" that Josh had led her to. Wow, he's so romantic, couldn't have found a nicer place anywhere. I mean, the smell of burnt wood, the crumbling walls, and the cobwebs glued onto every inch of the building can really fulfills a girl's dreams. Gabrielle must have been real excited by the prospect of this scenery. It's quite intense, and also very lovely, I must say.
"But I don't understand why you'd bother coming here, the police must have already collected all the evidence," Gabrielle says confusedly. I don't know why I bother either.
"That may be true, but there might be something here that could help us," I say, unconvinced by my own words. I take out my flashlight and direct it towards the left corner, "something the police wouldn't have bothered to confiscate, and, anyway, have you seen how much time they actually spend at the crime scene? It's like next to nothing."
I get down on my knees and direct the light at the floor. I start moving along the floorboards, with my hands, gloved, feeling along; searching. My jeans are getting stained from the dirt on the floor. Gosh, if they're not going to use this place they might as well tear it down.
"No, they'd have spent more time on me, daddy would have made sure of it," Gabrielle says confidently. "He would make sure that whoever killed me was punished."
"Uh huh," I say distractedly. "Sure he would." I move up towards the right-hand wall. "Is Josh fond of poker," I say questioningly, pulling out a torn game card from a hole in the wall. I unfold it. It's a Jack, and he's holding a lighter. How unique.
"I'm not sure," Gabrielle says, looking over my shoulder at the torn Jack game card. He looks quite menacing. I put him in a little plastic bag, which I shove into my purse. "Do you think it could be useful?" she asks.
"Dono," I say, all the while thinking the card is completely useless, I mean, why would Josh stick a game card in the wall before he killed Gabrielle? It just makes no sense.
I continue searching, moving back down to the floor.
After two hours, yes, two hours, I come out with just a torn card game, a piece of paper with the word "grad" written on it, and, most importantly, a few hairs. I know. I've never been so glad that shedding exists.
I have plans for those hairs. Those hairs will go a long way, they will.
I hope they're all from one person.
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"So, you're saying that the doctor you met with forgot to take the hair sample from you?" the nice lady in a green suit is asking me. I'm at the hospital, the lab portion of the hospital.
"That's right," I say boldly.
"So, you called to tell him he forgot the sample and he said…" the nice lady says, having trouble regurgitating what I've just told her.
"He said that since he'd forgotten to take the hair sample I should, instead of bringing it to him, just give it directly to the lab. He said it would be easier this way because he'd have to take the samples down to the lab anyway," I remind her.
"I see, and, um, exactly which doctor are we talking about here?" she asks.
"Dr. Krendle," I say. I had heard his name shouted out in numerous occasions across the hospital waiting room, I've never really had any sort of appointment with him. Dr. Krendle seems real busy, thus he'll probably never realize that he didn't have any appointment with me.
"Oh, and the hair sample, what's it for?" She asks me.
"Oh, I want to find out who the father is, of course," I say shyly.
"The father of who?" She asks.
"The father of my baby," I say obviously. "I just found out I'm pregnant," I say, giving out a fake little chuckle.
"Oh, I see," the lady says, giving me a semi-frightened smile, "But, uh, wouldn't it be easier if you just got a saliva sample of the questionable fathers? And, uh, you'd also want to give in a DNA sample of the baby," she tells me informingly.
"Oh, I was only with one person," I begin to say, "I was just real drunk at the time and I can't even remember how the guy looks like, much less the guy's name. The hair sample is the only thing I've found at my apartment, which, I'm pretty sure, is his. I don't have many friends over," I say in explanation. "All I need for you to tell me is his name, so that I can contact him and tell him about the baby," I continue saying, loads of bull just flowing out of me as though I'm a talking water-fountain. I hope she doesn't aspire to call teen-control services, if that even exists.
"Right then," the lady says, taking my hair sample in it's little baggy, where I've also attached my phone number, "well, have a good day," she says, and starts turning around in an attempt to get back into the lab, where she was before I'd interrupted her.
"Oh, and Dr. Krendle said you must report the results directly to me," I say, "it won't be necessary to put it out on paper or send it to anyone else, not even Dr. Krendle himself," I add, hoping she'll go with it.
"Yes, of course," she says, "we'll give you a call as soon as we've got the results." She heads back into the lab.
I sigh in relief. She bought it, all of it. The so-called appointment I had had with doctor Krendle and the whole, I can't-remember-who-the-father-of-my-imaginary-baby-is-because-I-was-too-drunk-at-the-time. I just hope nobody finds out I lied, that would be bad, real bad, like my-life-is-over bad. The thing is, I want to find out the owner of those hairs, that's why I took them to the lab, thus the whole story about the doctor and the baby, how else would I get them to tell me the name of the hair's owner?
I do realize that the hairs could just belong to some random guy, but maybe, maybe, they could be Josh's. That would really help advance our case against him.
I head off to my dorm.
I have to sort papers and feed fish and get ready before my so-called date.
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Remember when I told you that I mostly sort through student profiles at paper organizing place, well, apparently, there's also some teacher profiles I've got to sort through. I guess this is partly a good thing, since, guess who's profile I've found? It's none other than, hear this, GEORGE Borcowitz. I never knew he was a George, or divorced, or childless. Actually, it's not such a surprise, really, I always knew that no woman could possibly stand George enough to actually marry, or, since someone actually did marry him, stay married to him. And the no kids, well, I don't think he much likes them, and they don't really much like him, so it's a good sort of negotiation. Just. Have. None. It does say that, even though he never had any of his own kids, he had adopted a son. I feel real sorry for the son. He probably went mental living with his stepfather, and who wouldn't, really, with Mr. B as your stepfather?
The kid's about my age, a little older, it doesn't say his name here, but it does mention him attending University at present time. So, he turned out to be somewhat normal, I guess, and he hasn't yet killed himself.
That's all I've found out so far, it's quite interesting, I must say, really intriguing.
I quickly head off to feed the fish. None have died so far, so I must be doing something right.
As I near the goldfish aquarium, the fish all edge up towards the glass and look real pleased to see me. At least they appreciate the work that I do.
After I finish feeding the fish, an hour later, which is actually pretty good considering how many aquariums our campus has, I head off to my dorm. I still have an hour before my date with Josh.
It's really hot in the dorm, like a freaking microwave. I feel really dizzy and nauseous and my heads feels like it's going to explode. I sit down on my bed and then I decide to go and take a shower to cool off.
After the shower I do cool off but my headache, well, let's just say that the trend appears to be that a headache just doesn't get washed away in the shower, even though I was kind of hoping it would. I totter over to my closet and get out my really nice black Chanel dress.
I must be having some kind of hallucination because my eyes are seeing fog. Fog near the door, fog on the floor, fog near the window. Fog fog fog.
THERE IS FOG IN MY DORM. And I'm seeing everything in double, no, actually, it's only the door that I see in double, or triple, or million. Doors just appear out of nowhere and completely fill my line of vision.
I close my eyes. Breath in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Out. In. Open eyes. Okay, dizziness seems to be dying down, the million doors are cut down to two, the fog is gone and nausea is at a minimum.
Ok. After a few seconds I calm down enough to put on my dress. After a few more seconds I get up the courage to brush my damp hair and spritz myself with the new Guess perfume. Then, after a few more seconds, I put my makeup on, straighten my hair, style it, and put on my black Nine West shoes.
I'm ready, totally, utterly, ready. I must say I look good, what with my hair rolling down my face in soft tendrils and wearing my frilly Chanel dress that only reaches down until my knees.
I hear knocking on the door. Must be Josh. He's early.
I open the door. No, not Josh, Jesse.
"Jesse, what a pleasure to see you," I say fake-pleasantly, giving him a wide smile.
"Susannah!" Jesse says, looking somewhat flustered. He is now possessively staring at me. What's up with him? Did I put on too much eye make-up or something? I mean I can't look all that hideous, can I? Not so far as to frighten someone anyway. But I guess I did, frighten him I mean, because the next thing he says is, "where are you off to? I thought Halloween wasn't until next month," and starts laughing.
"Oh, you're just so funny Jesse, you should really consider getting your own talk show," I say, narrowing my eyes, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I should, shouldn't I?" Jesse says sardonically and I can't help but laugh. Jesse flashes me a smile and my heart flips over. What is wrong with me? I've had plenty of guys smile at me in the past and my heart never so much as flickered. It must stop doing that. "Um, well, you seem busy, so, I'll just get going," he says, suddenly becoming serious.
"Yeah," I say, "I'll…I'll see you later then."
"Bye," he says, sparing me a fleeting look. I watch him head down the corridor as I close the door.
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Josh called. He said he won't be able make it, that we'll go out next week. Same time.
It's ok. I'm calm. He can't make it, what can I do? He said he had something to do and he apologizes.
I get out of my dress and pull on some jeans and a shirt.
What could be so important that he had to cancel our date? What could he possibly need to do?
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I am in a building on god-only-knows-what-street. I followed Josh---who drove, hear this, a Porsche, yeah, seems killer-boy here also has some cash---all the way here in Dana's car.
I'm standing outside a room that Josh had just entered and strain my ears for any sound.
"…no one can know about this, got it?" I hear Josh say sternly. Know about what?
"Of course not," some other guy replies. "So, are we going ahead as planned?"
"Yes, and don't screw up, I'm paying you big money for this," Josh says curtly.
"Right," says the other guy. "Don't you worry about a thing."
"She won't even know what hit her," Josh says laughingly. Oh god, is he going to kill someone else? "It's perfect."
"All right then, anything else?" the guy says.
"No, nothing for now," Josh replies, "Well, anyway, I think I'll get going now…"
After that I ran out of there like a frightened goose.
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Josh is going to kill someone else. I have to stop him.
Oh, by the way, I'm back in my dorm, shoving ice cream into my mouth. It's quite relaxing, I must say. Why haven't I thought of this before? The ice cream eating, I mean. Oh, and it has these really tasty chocolate chips and its so creamy and…
Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, I must stop him. But I can't do anything until our date.
What if he kills her before then?
Oh, this is bad.
I must tell Gabrielle to keep an eye on Josh, just until our date. For now there's not much I can do, especially since I have no idea who Josh's next victim is.
This. Is. Not. Good.
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A/N: Hope you liked it. But, now it's time to review, that is, if you want me to update sooner. So, have a happy reviewing time.