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“Is it that cat of yours?” he pushes.
I don’t answer. I keep my eyes on the table, studying the floral design of the tablecloth.
“I heard you talking to your mom about the cat.” He leers.
My eyes trace the flowers, the stems, the leaves. I focus on the colors and the pattern, anything but him.
He walks over to me, his hand still in his pocket. He is close now. I smell something on him, something that doesn’t sit right, like the charred smell you get from a barbecue.
“I’ll tell you this,” he says, leaning toward me. His voice is sharp and electric like the noise a cattle prod makes when it jabs at flesh. “You don’t want to know what happened to your cat.”
My head swings around, instinct making me look at him, but I wish I hadn’t. The look on his face will stay with me forever. I see pure evil—an evil that’s bred, not learned or nurtured, but born with.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I switched it to silent upon arrival at the station. I pull it out, and my heart sinks at the name. Piero is calling. This has to be the seventh call so far this morning, all of which I’ve let go to voicemail. He left a message expressing his concern and desire to get in touch. He wants to know I’m okay and tells me I can take as much time off as I need.
I jump as Klein bursts through the door, closely followed by DC Finnegan. I shove my phone back into my pocket. Klein stands before me, a file in his hand. It looks old enough to bethefile. I see his skin through his thin white shirt, with a faint shadow of chest hair and some sort of tribal tattoo running down his arm which doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of him. I didn’t notice last night how gangly he appears. They sit, neither looking at me as Klein places a laptop on the table. DC Finnegan shifts in his seat as if he’s making way for the laptop.
Finnegan is a typical round man and older than Klein, which strikes me as odd since Klein is his superior. He’s quiet, not adding anything to the questioning. They don’t appear to have a good cop-bad cop routine. Klein pulls open the file, and Finnegan stares over his shoulder.
“I’ve found the file, Miss Daniels. It’s all in here.” He taps the first sheet of paper as if it’s a small pet.
It amazes me how much one little file can contain. It’s the whole reason I’m now sitting here explaining the death of my work colleague.
I never planned it.
I tell myself this.
It just happened.
Frank wouldn’t help me.
People at school were not going to help me.
I couldn’t involve my mom and dad.
No one could help me.
Carl was hurting me and only me. I needed it to stay that way. I’d not let him hurt anyone else.
I had no choice.
Mom and Dad are at the nursing home because Grandad attacked one of the nurses.
I told them not to worry about me and that I’ll probably head to Olivia’s house.
I begin to head out when I smell something familiar. I drop my bag by the door and bow my head to the scent. There is no mistaking the sweet, earthy smell that often drifts from around the back of the science blocks at school. But this time, the smell is coming from inside my house.
Frank stayed overnight at a friend’s house, and I doubt he’ll be home before lunchtime. That leaves Carl.
Without thinking, I march up the stairs and fling open his bedroom door.
He is stretched out on his bed, joint in one hand, his other arm behind his head. The room stinks. The musty smell already clings to the curtains and the bedding, things my mom and dad spent their money on to give Carl a place of his own. He lays on the bed, smoking away, and I wonder where he got the money to buy weed. How is he paying for this newfound habit? He inhales.
I see Lulu bounding off my bed. I see the graffiti on my locker. I see the words he’s brandished me with and my piss-stained bedding. I see the monster he is. All fear leaves me in a fit of rage. I scream at him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” My hand is on the door, my arm shaking, my knees practically knocking together, and he doesn’t even have the courtesy to look up.
“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” He holds the joint in front of his eyes and examines it.
