16th October, 2015 (Eleven Days after the Murder).

08:15 PM.

Alyson gawked as she stepped into Ian’s apartment.

“You could perform surgery in here,” she teased.

It was true. The house was, in a word, sterile. The walls were perfectly white, and the rug was a clear, clean dark grey. The lighting was dim, and the tables shone even from where she stood. It was a spacious space, and was divided into a living room, a little dining area, and a kitchen at the back.

The living area was minimalist, with only a white leather couch and a small stool. There was a coat rack beside a mirror by the entrance. He did not even have a TV! The kitchen on the other hand, had black cabinets, a refrigerator, microwave, and cooking gas, the bare essentials. The dining area was at the side of the living room, with a glassy rectangular table and four chairs. The presence of about four paintings well-spaced on the wall was the only redeeming quality on what would have otherwise been a lifeless bachelor’s house.

“You’ve always known I think better in clean environments,” he replied. She caught a whiff of his cologne and wondered how someone could smell so good, as he helped her remove her coat, and placed it on the rack by the wall.

Her situation with Ian had not improved, especially since he walked in on her and Bob in the bakery. As much as she didn’t want to, she had been anxiously waiting for the dinner with him. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and smoothed out her little white dress. The full, long sleeves made her appear ethereal and graceful. Her hair fell straight down her shoulders with a little parting to the left that covered a bit of her face. The dark lipstick she wore matched her dark purple heels.

She took off her shoes as he led her to the dining area. The rug was incredibly soft, and tickled her feet a little. She thanked him as he pulled out a chair for her to sit. She appreciated the gesture – he had always been a gentleman. He walked over to the kitchen and brought back two wine glasses. Alyson could not tell if he was nervous, but she was petrified. She watched him as he filled the cups with red wine. His normally perfectly styled hair was tousled, like he just rolled out of bed. His dark blue shirt was slightly open at the neck and complemented his dark pants. He was also barefoot. He looked charming and relaxed.

He handed her a glass and sat on the chair facing her. Alyson looked at the food laid out before them. Roasted turkey, spaghetti and meatballs, sausages, and some sort of salad.

“Did you make all this yourself?” she asked.

“Yeah. I did it to impress you,” he admitted as he laid out their plates.

“It looks really good,” she complimented.

They had their meal in silence. But as the clock ticked and the minutes went by, Alyson wondered why she had come. Whatever happened between them was in the past. With his visits to her, the calls, and now the date, they were wandering on dangerous territory. She knew revisiting their bitter past was like playing with fire, with at least one of them getting burned. She mentally slapped herself for accepting his invitation, but outwardly maintained her demure smile.

After dinner, they sauntered back to the couch. He refilled their glasses and sat down beside her as he handed her the wine. Her stomach did little flips without her consent as he stared at her intently.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked nervously.

“I feel we need to talk about some long overdue issues.”

“I’ll definitely need more wine,” she joked as she filled her glass to the brim.

“I didn’t like seeing you with Bob,” he stated.

“That’s too bad. A lot of things happen that we don’t like,” she replied with a smile.

“I mean it.”

“I never said you didn’t. Ian, the truth is, you’re not anything to me, not really. I can hang out with whomever I please.”

“Why him?” he asked but stopped at the look on her face.

“I’m not demanding anything, I just want to know,” he added defensively.

“You’re wondering why I am with a guy like Bob who isn’t particularly good looking,” she stated.

“Don’t look at me like that, I can see it on your face,” she continued as she sipped her wine.

He didn’t respond.

“After you left, I needed someone I could talk to. I met Bob a few months after graduation at a grocery store, and we hit it off immediately. I could be free with him, talk about my day, sometimes just rant. He always listened. To me, he’s more than just a friend, he’s a companion.” She took a gulp of wine again.

“I didn’t care that he was fat, or dressed shabbily, or looked poor. I really cherished him then, and I do now. We’re not an item, but we sleep together occasionally. We stopped only recently,” she said as she downed the rest of the wine.

“Why did you stop?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied, and hoped the dim lighting hid the color creeping up on her cheeks. 

“Alyson,” he said as he took the glass from her hands and placed it on the floor. He held her hands and tried to look as sincere as he could.

“I am sorry for the way I treated you. I left because I couldn’t stand to be in this place. I wanted to grow, go to college, be a fucking amazing cop. My future with you then was uncertain, and I feel if I stayed, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life,” he said as she looked away.

He held her jaw gently, and firmly turned her to face him, “I know an apology doesn’t really change anything, nor would it cure you of the pain you went through, but I’m here to stay this time.”

“If it wasn’t for what happened to you, would you be here now?” she asked.

“That’s what I thought,” she replied at his silence.

Ian continued, “I thought I was the best at everything until I got struck down and was forced to realize the world doesn’t work that way. I was too full of myself, and my transfer put things into perspective. I have learned more in the past two weeks than I have in the last eight years. All that matters is now, not the past, and I am willing to fight for us. Are you?”

“It will take a while, Ian.”

“I know, but I am willing to at least try. I will win you back,” he said as he kissed her forehead.

“We’ll see,” she replied.

“Do you miss Bethany a lot?”

“We weren't that close, and didn’t know much about each other, so I don’t feel her loss like I should. But still, the house feels emptier somehow,” she replied.

Ian found her answer strange, but simply said, “I understand.”

“So about Bob...,” he trailed off.

“What about him?” she asked with a glint in her eyes.

“Are you going to break up with him?”

“We weren’t together to begin with,” she replied.

“I meant the whole situation you both had going on.”

“I’m not going to stop being friends with him just because you decided to waltz back into my life after almost a decade,” she said.

“You’re not going to let me forget that so soon are you?”

“Never,” she replied with a smile. She was more relaxed than she had been a few minutes ago, and felt the wine helped loosen her up a little.

“Fair enough. But Ally, what if he was dangerous? Has it ever crossed your mind that he may have killed Bethany? That they could have been in a relationship and he killed her to keep her quiet?” Ian asked. He knew he was grasping at straws, and was being sentimental, but he had to let her in on his suspicions.

“That’s a lot of speculation,” she simply replied.

“It makes sense.”

“Bob did not kill Bethany,” she stated.

“How do you know that?” he asked confused.

She glanced at her phone, “Damn it’s so late. I have an early morning tomorrow.”

She stood up quickly, and he walked her to the front of the house.

“Should I take you home?” he asked.

“It was only two glasses of wine. I can take care of myself.”

She put her coat on, and turned towards him, “Bye.”

“Goodbye Alyson,” he said and leaned in quickly for a kiss.

She turned her head to the side before their lips could meet, “Not yet.”

She put on her shoes and walked out the door.

Ian sighed and walked back to the couch. His relationship with Alyson was going to be better than before, he could feel it. The dinner was certainly a good start.

His phone started to ring, and he groaned impatiently as he walked to the dining table to retrieve it.

“Detective McNeil,” he answered curtly.

“I have some news. The DNA results for the skin cells under Ms. Cooper’s fingernails are back. They were a match for Nathan Fields.”

*****

17th October, 2015 (Twelve Days after the Murder).

10:30 AM.

The police made their way to the mansion of Mayor Sam Fields as soon as they got a warrant for Nathan Fields’s arrest. Detective Suarez was at the forefront.

“Get me Nathan,” Suarez told the maid joyfully. He would never have admitted it, but he derived much pleasure from being the one making the arrest. Putting handcuffs around the pretty little wrists of the mayor’s son would be the highlight of his day. He hated rich kids, especially rich prep school boys who had life handed to them on a silver platter. They were supposed to work and toil for their earnings, like real men. They disgusted him.

Being rich was bad enough, but being privileged enough to murder your own girlfriend because of your bruised ego was simply evil. If it was left to him, the little killer would have been sent to a concentration camp somewhere in the middle east with the key swallowed by a whale.

“Can I help you?” Nathan Fields asked as he walked into the room.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Bethany Cooper,” Suarez said as he slapped the handcuffs expertly over Nathan’s wrists.

“But I didn’t kill her. What is this?” Nathan asked confused.

“You have the right to remain silent…,” Suarez read the Miranda rights to a still confused looking Nathan.

“Martha call my father,” Nathan yelled at the maid, who was already dialing a number on her phone.

Suarez smiled in contentment as he led Nathan outside the house, and into the waiting police car.

*****

Same Day, 03:00 PM.

It was the second time Ian faced Nathan across the table. The changing factors were that this time, Nathan was in handcuffs, his lawyer was present, and they were in the interrogation room.

“Things are not looking good Nathan,” Ian stated.

“Let me tell you what this looks like to me. Bethany broke up with you, probably because she found out you’ve been sleeping with her best friend. You killed her because her leaving you bruised your ego. There was a struggle when you physically assaulted her, and that was how your DNA got under her nails. You disposed of her body, and that left you free to be with her friend. Your car and house are being searched as we speak, and I am sure the results would confirm my theory. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“You don’t have to say anything Nathan,” his lawyer advised.

Ian wanted to slug the stiffly dressed man in the face. He hated lawyers, especially pompous, ivy league graduates like this one. They made his job difficult, and he had seen many guilty people get off and walk freely on the streets because of people like him.

Nathan put his head in his hands, thinking deeply. When he came back up, he let out a breath with resolve.

“I did not kill Bethany, but I was not completely honest before,” he confessed.

“Nathan,” his lawyer warned.

“No, I have to say this. This shit is only going to get deeper, and I have to get myself out before it gets worse.

“On the day Beth died, she came to my house unexpectedly. This was around three or four PM. I had no clue she’d show up. At that time, I was with Sherylyn – she had been coming on to me and I wanted to see where it’d go. We were making out and didn’t know when Beth walked in. I had never seen her so angry. She hit me and scratched me all over. I tried to hold her back, but she was like a cat and I didn’t want to hurt her.

“She slapped Sherylyn as well but Sherylyn punched her in the face. I ordered Sherylyn out, because Beth was my girlfriend and we hurt her. After she left, Beth and I had a fight. We’ve never had a fight like that before. So many hurtful things were said, so many underlying issues… so much bitterness. She broke up with me after that and I knew it was final.

“I was so mad I didn’t go after her. I just let her walk away. Later that night, I only got madder. I texted Sherylyn to come over around 11PM, and we fucked the whole night. I wanted to get Beth out of my system, but it didn’t work. I feel so shitty knowing while she was being killed somewhere, I was betraying her with her best friend,” he said, as his shoulders dropped slightly, like he had relieved himself of a heavy weight.

“Why didn’t you say that before?” Ian asked.

“I was already a suspect. You’re the detective. How do you think it looks if I said we had a fight and broke up a few hours before she died?”

Ian’s silence was answer enough.

“What of Sherylyn? You have been together quite a lot after Bethany’s death,” Ian noted.

“I’m just using her to pass the time. It’s a shitty thing to do, but we both benefit from it in a way,” Nathan replied.

“You said words were exchanged between yourself and Bethany. What were they?”

Nathan looked away and didn’t respond.

“Was it about you? Your family?” Ian pressed.

“It was personal. I’d rather not talk about it,” Nathan replied.

“For now. The lab will keep running all the samples we get from your house to see if your story adds up. Okay?”

“Fine,” Nathan replied, more at ease.

Ian stood up to leave with mixed feelings. Nathan’s story was reasonable enough, but if the boyfriend had not done it, then who was it? Was a killer still on the loose?

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