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Every time I felt like I was on the brink of discovery, I quickly realized I wasn’t. Nothing ever came of my investigations, but that didn’t stop me from continuing to move forward with them. I wouldn’t rest until Anna’s killer was staring at me through remorseful eyes, finally paying for what he’d done to us.
“And the cameras were completely wiped?” Hank’s frustration was a mirrorl of mine.
For two years, we’d been combing through every possible avenue in search of clues that would lead us to the promise land. Nothing came of our searches. It was as trying as it was decapitating. I felt paralyzed each time I dove headfirst, wondering if I’d ever resurface. It was always Aussie who pulled me to shore, but she’d finally taken off and was settled at her grandparents’s house.
“It’s like nothing is there. The video never changes. The last movement on the cameras was mine up until I returned. We’ve already gone through the system to see if any code for entry was punched in. Nothing. Remember, we checked all the windows and doors. No signs of forced entry. It’s like a fucking ghost came to my home and murdered my wife, leaving nothing behind but this damn picture. They didn’t even leave that. Anna did.”
“Fuck, man. We need this motherfucker altered or something. Somebody can tell us something. Got to.”
“I’ve tried, Hank. I’ve sent this picture across the world and no one can give me any information on what’s in the image because it’s just… man… This shit is agonizing as fuck. I’m tired, bro. I just want to dead the motherfucker that violated me and move on with my life. Ya know? She ain’t coming back. But a nigga ain’t ’bout to just get away with putting her down like that. Ya know?”
“That ain’t never happening, bro. Ever. When we catch up to the nigga, it’s lights out. Do ’em dirty.” He grimaced, sipping the spiked coffee in his cup.
Staring out into the openness, I wondered if there was anything I’d missed or overlooked in the last two years. Relentlessly, I’d been on a manhunt, stopping at nothing for answers. It was baffling to me that I still didn’t have the ones I needed.
“I’ma get out of your hair, bro. The wife is receiving an award today and she’s going to kick my ass if I’m not there when the doors open at eight-thirty.”
“As she should. Don’t pull down on me again, trying to use me as a rest stop so you won’t be late. I bet your ass left out of the house as soon as she did, knowing it would be a fucking problem if you didn’t.”
His wife’s office was approximately twelve miles away, right where The Meadows bordered the inner city of Berkeley.
“Don’t be a fucking hag.”
With a shake of the head, I watched him stand and finish off his coffee. Slowly, I sipped mine, still trying to make sense of everything that happened the night Anna was murdered.
“Hit me up.”
He didn’t wait for a response because he understood he wouldn’t be getting one. In a haste, he rushed toward the awaiting vehicle with Willie at the wheel. A quick head nod and my former driver signaled his goodbyes. I tossed a hand in the air, pride swelling in my chest.
Continuing to thrive in the same game that robbed me of my treasure was absurd in my eyes. Passing the torch, I put Hank in charge of operations and wiped my hands clean. If the game couldn’t return my dear Anna, then I didn’t want shit to do with it. As I imagined he would, Hank rose to the challenge and was getting his paper just like I knew he would.
Hank’s disappearance put my thoughts into perspective. Trying my hardest not to fall into the rabbit hole that the mystery of my wife’s murder would lead me to, I cleared my head completely. Because I knew once I stepped into that realm, there was no turning back—for days and sometimes months.
Propping my feet up on the unstained planks on the porch, I leaned back in the rocking chair that had come with the home. Though I hated the idea that Anna hadn’t been able to enjoy it, it was a nice addition and, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to toss it. The bitter, black coffee in my cup heated my lips as I took a final sip before setting it on the small table next to me where Hank had left his. I pulled the straw hat over my face to filter the sun and closed my eyes.
Dozing wasn’t in my plans but it seemed I didn’t have much of a choice. Not even the coffee was strong enough to revoke my brain’s right to rest. Admittedly, it was appreciated, but the sound of footsteps in the distance didn’t allow it to linger.
“Private property,” I yelled, never opening my eyes or removing the hat from my face.
In my right hand, beside my chair, I gripped the twelve gauge that would surely rip a hole in whoever or whatever was approaching if they didn’t take heed to what I was preaching. The footsteps continued, forcing me to reveal my weapon of choice. I set the gun across my lap, halting movement from the unwanted guest.
“Private property,” I repeated, still attempting to get some shuteye.
“H-hi,” the silky voice stammered, clutching my heart and squeezing the little blood left from it while continuing.
“I’m Aeir… Aeir Rothshire. I have an interview for the homeschooling position at nine.”
It’s Wednesday?My days and nights and afternoons and evenings were all mixed up. Just like Aussie, it seemed I didn’t know what day was which most of the time. I’d marked my calendar to remind me of the interview I’d scheduled for Wednesday and never looked at it again.
“Hellllooooo?” She chuckled nervously.
My limbs locked, refusing to loosen. Her voice, her familiar tone, anchored me. More footsteps were heard as she approached the porch, reviving me as the next set of words left her mouth.
“Mr.…?” She paused, waiting for a response to continue.
“Domino,” I shared, silently chastising myself for setting up an interview after hearing her voice the first time.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Domino.”
