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Karl raised the yellow police tape that surrounded the front door. My head turned towards a noise I picked up to my right.
“It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
I bent under the tape and passed through the door. This was not my first time here. Back in the day, my friends and I used to hang out here, drink and smoke, and then go to the back of the terrace overlooking the river and dare each other to stand on one foot on the edge or do silly stuff like that.
“It still looks the same.”
The huge parlor was empty except for old wooden boxes that everyone who was here used as benches to sit on or make out during the parties.
“To be young again,” I whispered as dust moths flew in the light of the flashlights.
“Huh?”
“Where did they find the bodies?”
“Outside on the terrace.” Karl made another attempt at taking my hand, but I pulled it away.
The house was closing in on me. Old wallpaper peeled off walls. I tried to find anything to distract him from hitting on me.
“How did you and Julie divorce? I mean, if it’s not too personal.”
Karl sighted. “The old story, I assume. She felt safe with me. We got together when she was still heartbroken and, after she healed, she decided I wasn’t good enough for her.”
“Sorry.”
“I knew my relationship with Julie ran on borrowed time. Yana, do you think I’m stupid?”
His voice was filled with anger and sadness.
“I never said you were stupid.”
“I assume I’m the rebound guy. The guy that’s good enough to pick up the pieces but not good enough to stay with after a woman is okay again.”
“I don’t think... I mean.”
He sighed, removed a bottle from his coat, and offered me some. “Vodka?”
“No, thanks.” I barely had time to refuse.
Karl took a long swing from the bottle and wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand.
“I’m really sorry, Karl.”
“Thanks,” he whispered.
We both stood in the moonlight on the terrace. The river sounded wild and agitated beneath us.
“I don’t see much.
“I see blood.” He pointed toward a black spot with his flashlight. “Over there.”
“What exactly are we looking for?”
Karl took out his phone and started to shoot photos of the sight. “I promised my friends in the group a few pics of the crime scene.”
“Hey, can I have some vodka?”
Karl offered me the bottle. I took it and sat on the ground with my back against the wall of the house. The terrace was covered in old tiles. I still remember the brown and green floral pattern that decorated them and the cracks that allowed weeds to grow between them. This place was filled with memories of better times. It was hard to shake the feeling of being trapped inside a time machine. Each stone here could tell me a story, not only a story from my past but also from others’ past.
