At ten o'clock that night, Sandy sat alone under a red-branded Coca-Cola umbrella outside the Jabal store.

She cursed at the memories of her father.

The image in the picture suddenly crept into her mind - her father's loving eyes locked with another woman's, fingers interlocked, warm smiles against a backdrop of a tangerine sunset.

The worst part was that Sandy realized her father looked happier in that single photo than she could ever remember him being. Looking at the photo was like staring at a stranger.

This was not the man she saw back in the house, stealing glances at her mother and hugging her wistfully by the kitchen island when he thought she was out of earshot.

How could he do this, especially to her mother?

Sandy suddenly felt thirsty. She pushed the cold metal chair back, got up, and then headed into the store. Jabal was one of the few stores that operated 24/7 in the neighbourhood. She bought a can of beer and settled back under the umbrella. She popped the can open and swallowed it in short gulps. The beer was strong enough and burned her throat just the way she liked it.

The night was chilly, and Sandy regretted not wearing a sweater over her red chiffon top, which she had layered over blue jeans.

"What are you doing here?"

Sandy swiftly turned around at the sound of the voice. Her expression was one of surprise as she said, "Mark?" with an inquisitive tone.

In the glow of the light that illuminated the store's porch, Mark appeared intrigued as he emerged from behind Sandy and took the empty seat across from her under the umbrella. He leaned his elbows onto the squeaky plastic table between them but then pulled back his hands and brushed the dust off his elbows.

"Are you drinking out here?" he asked. "What happened to little reserved Sandy?"

Sandy couldn't help but burst out laughing. "I'm not reserved!"

"Yes, you are," he said quietly, gazing at her intently and sharply. Sandy twitched in her seat and looked away. She remembered this gaze from the party at his house. It disturbed her back then, the same way it did now.

Feeling a blush creep to her cheeks, Sandy grabbed the can. "Can't I have a drink?" she said.

A silent moment passed before Mark asked, "Something the matter?"

Sandy shook her head, staring briefly at her phone. The time read 10:30 pm.

"You forget I know you too well."

"You don't." Sandy quickly said, raising her eyes to meet his already peering ones. Sandy hoped to add 'If you did, you'd notice me' but instead chose otherwise.

She brought the can of beer to her lips.

"How are your parents... I mean, how are they doing?" What Sandy wanted to ask was, "Do your parents also cheat behind your back, lying they are happy together when they are not?"

Mark looked puzzled, his sharp jawline darkened by the umbrella's shadow, saw light as it fell beside him. "My parents? Well, they are doing great... I think. Why do you ask?"

"No. No reason at all," Sandy began to stand from her seat.

"You leaving already?" Sandy thought she heard disappointment in his voice.

"It's late."

"Of course it is. Let me take you home then," he offered as he stood to his feet.

When Sandy took a moment to reply, he said, "Did you just turn me down because of that?" He pointed at Sandy's bicycle bent over the stone wall.

Sandy laughed as she approached Haley. She then said, "Night, Mark."

Mark stared at her for a while, hands tucked into the front pockets of his trousers. He said, "Come by the house on Friday evening, I'd like to show you something."

Sandy felt her breath catch in her throat, and she coughed quietly. Did he just invite her over, alone?
"Am busy on Friday."

Mark smiled, "You had to make this awkward, didn't you?"

"Glad it worked," Sandy smiled back, tugging Haley off the wall.

When Sandy pulled the kickstand, hopping on the bicycle, Mark said, "I'll be expecting you."

********

The following day, Preston Arina drove his old black Nissan with Sandy Muiru seated beside him, her head bent over the window. The only brother of Diane Rucho, Gerald Rucho, lived in Ngong Town, which was in the Kajiado East subcounty of Kajiado County. The town was approximately 20km away from Nairobi Town, with an additional 5km from the police station. The previous night, Preston had researched the location of Gerald Rucho's home, which was in Pwani Estate on Hilltop Road, 2nd Lane.

Preston was anxious about getting lost on the way to the estate since he had never driven on the road before and preferred to remain in control. Therefore, he had turned on his GPS, which he had placed upright against the car console. This way, he could take glances at his phone and drive simultaneously. He had not slept much the previous night as he had spent the whole night thinking about the case.

The car ride was unusually quiet. Preston had expected Sandy Muiru, to be her usual cheerful self when he offered her a ride that morning. However, Sandy had barely spoken a word since they left the station.

Preston wondered what could be troubling her. Had she discovered something about her father's accident? Or was it just that time of the month?

Preston knew that women during their menstrual cycle tended to be moody, if not temperamental. He had witnessed this behaviour before with his ex-wife, Clara Ayieko.

During their divorce proceedings, she had called him a misogynistic bastard.

Preston couldn't help but think of his six-year-old son, Jaden Arina, whenever he thought about his ex-wife. This Saturday, he was looking forward to visiting him as per the child custody agreement that allowed him to have Jaden only on weekends. Preston believed that his ex-wife had moved to Nakuru just to make it difficult for him to see their son. And he was right; driving for four hours there and back every weekend was no easy task.

As he arrived in Ngong Town around 10:30 am, the GPS voice piped up after he turned through the roundabout in the main town, saying "Take the next left and drive 100 meters."

Pwani Estate was situated on a hilly land surrounded by lush trees. The four-story building was painted brown with white trims along the edges, giving it a grand feel. Preston guessed that the rent here was probably quite expensive.

After arriving, Preston parked the car a fair distance from the building, and both he and Sandy got out. Suddenly, Sandy asked, "Why do you park the car so far away?"

Preston appeared startled by her voice, having almost forgotten that she was with him. "I don't know, just an old habit," he said.

Sandy wasn't convinced; she felt that he was lying.

At the entrance, there was a black gate. Preston knocked on the gate. A few seconds later, the gate was opened, revealing a young man in a guard uniform. The name of the security firm was written on the sleeves of his uniform: BM SECURITY.

Preston presented his police badge and said, "Police. We would like to speak with one of your tenants. Gerald Rucho."

The guard glanced at the badge briefly before responding, "House number 12."

House number 12 was located on the third floor. Preston disliked climbing the stairs because it was physically challenging. On the other hand, Sandy appeared unaffected by the steep stairs.

After knocking several times, Gerald Rucho answered the door. Sandy estimated his age to be in his mid-thirties. He was tall, muscular, and had a defined jawline. His hair looked unkempt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was going to have guests over," he said as he cleared clothes from his upholstered sofa in the living room.

The place was a mess: dirty dishes on the coffee table, papers on the ground, and the curtains undrawn. Sandy's eye trailed over the mantle. A couple of framed photos had been displayed. There was one photo of Gerald with Diane. Sandy stepped forward to have a closer look. Diane was standing next to Gerald, arms to her torso, donning a wide smile. The backdrop was a dilapidated house with chipped beige paint.

"Don't worry, we'll only take a few minutes," Preston said as he sat down.

Sandy, however, chose to stand.

"Is this about my sister?" he asked.

"Yes," Preston replied.

"Good. I heard the case has been opened. She might finally get the justice that she deserves," Gerald said, sounding hopeful.

"Do you have any information that might be useful for the investigation?" Preston asked.

"Just like I told the other officers when they came by ten years ago, there's not much to be said about my sister. She was a sweetheart. The quiet type. Always had something good to say about everyone. Up until now I still don't get it. Why kill her? Why leave her there in a pool of her blood? What type of psycho does that to another human being?"

"Do you know anyone that had a grudge against Diane?"

"Diane was loved by everyone. I can't think of anyone that wished her harm. Oh. The boyfriend. Well, he was something else."

"What do you mean?" Preston asked.

"The boyfriend was a real junkie, always hooked on something. Weed, coke, alcohol. I can't even tell the many times I visited Diane and asked her to leave him. She never did. Claimed that she loved him and that he would change. Like a woman can change a man. Once rotten always rotten. I still don't know what she saw in him."

"You suspect he had something to do with her death?"

"I think he's worth looking into. Maybe he had something to do with it. Maybe not," he shrugged his shoulders.

Sandy caught his fleeting gaze just before it settled back on the carpeted floor. Sandy thought she saw something in his eyes. Was it sadness?

"What was his name?"

"I don't know. Only knew him by his nickname. Big Ted. We never interacted. I preferred it that way."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

He sat up straight on the sofa and held Preston's eyes. Preston noted that Gerald was shaking his legs. "I saw him at my sister's funeral. He was just hanging around. He must have been drunk."

"Where can I find him?" Preston asked.

"Diane mentioned that he worked at a Garage Auto Spares, just a few miles away from where she used to work. I don't know if he still works there. It's been ten good years."

"We will still check the place. Got nothing to lose."

"Yeah. Yeah."

When Preston got up to leave, Gerald quickly excused himself and disappeared into one of the rooms down the hallway. When he returned, he was carrying a large box.

"These are some of Diane's personal belongings that I still have. I donated the rest. Here." He handed the box to Sandy and added, "Maybe you'll find something important for the case."

Sandy shifted her feet on the ground. The box was heavy and sealed with adhesive tape. She couldn't tell what was inside.

"Thanks," Preston replied.

As soon as they made it back to the car, Sandy said to Preston, "Sounds like he didn't like the boyfriend."

"Could be he's trying to divulge our attention. Lots of guilty people tend to do that. Give you a reason to look into other people."

"You think he could have something to do with it?"

"Am not ruling anyone out," came Preston's response.

"That's a bit of an extreme. Don't you think? He's the brother. He has no reason to hurt his sister."

"I've been long enough in the police force to know human beings are capable of anything."

Preston's phone suddenly rang. The caller ID read Michael.

"Hello."

"Preston, we have a problem. Gary Wako has been kidnapped."