"Don't you think that was at least a little weird how the victim's wife was so eager to help?" Yaten asked.
"She wants us to find out who killed her husband. Who wouldn't want to help?" Raye answered.
"Did you notice how she referred to her husband in the past tense?"
"Are you completely sure of that?"
"Yes! She said that he was her husband. I even wrote it down."
Raye just shook her head, pouring herself a fourth cup of coffee. Nightmares raced around her dreams the night before, filling her mind with terror. Images of blood and a cold, pale Mr. Patterson lying on the ground. Then she started seeing herself in pool of blood with her eyes empty, her soul missing.
She shuddered at the very thought, distracting Yaten from his rant of the wife's word choice.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
"Yeah. I'm just really tired," she answered.
"I kept having nightmares."
The images flashed through her mind again. It was like an never ending cycle of haunting scenes.
"You know what? We should go interview the people at Mr. Patterson's work," Yaten said, drawing Raye out of her scary thoughts.
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Blake?" Raye asked a man in a tidy suit. His brown hair was slicked back, with a pencil tucked behind his ear.
"Yes. What do you want?" He snapped, causing Raye to flinch back.
"When was the last time you saw Mr. Patterson?" Yaten asked, pushing Raye behind him.
"Three days ago. Why?" He asked, although he didn't seem that much interested.
"He's dead. He was found yesterday, stabbed to death." Yaten said, looking for a hint of emotion or guilt in his eyes. But there was none.
"Oh, that's terrible. But we all die sometime," Mr. Blake said while shrugging his shoulders. Before he turned to walk away, Yaten said one last thing.
"What is your job, specifically?"
"I'm his best writer. I found lots of information that made his magazine sales skyrocket. But I guess now, I'm the boss," he said, a sly grin spreading across his face.
Raye watched him walk away, disgusted at his reaction. He didn't seem one bit upset that his boss was dead. And the way he grinned made her want to slap him across the face as hard as she possibly could.
"Did you say that Mr. Patterson was dead?" A woman asked Yaten.
At what he said, she threw herself at him, burying her face in his chest. She was bawling, her tears and snot running onto his shirt. 'Oh that's disgusting!' Yaten thought, looking towards the ceiling, trying to forget what was happening. He then looked at Raye standing next to him who simply watched as the woman cried her heart out.
"What do I do?" Yaten whispered.
"Comfort her," Raye whispered back.
He reluctantly put his arms around her, awkwardly patting her back. She finally calmed down and released her grip on Yaten, and sat down in a nearby chair. The woman smiled at him, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
"Thank you for comforting me," she said, her voice breaking.
"Were you close with Mr. Patterson?" Raye asked, sitting next to her.
"No, not at all. He is such a great boss though. Well, he was a great boss," she said wistfully, tears flowing from her eyes once more.
"What's your name?" Raye asked.
"I'm Margaret Campbell," she replied.
"What is your job here?"
"I'm a secretary."
"We are going to do everything we can to find who did this terrible crime," Raye said reassuringly, putting a comforting hand on the secretary's shoulder.
"Thank you," the crying woman said. Her head was tilted towards the ground with her hand covering her eyes, hiding her tears from her co-workers passing by.
The two detectives left the building, mulling over what had just happened. The new boss, Mr. Blake, was definitely suspicious. But the secretary's behavior was weird too.
"How could someone have a meltdown for a person that they hardly knew?" Raye thought aloud.
"I don't know. There might be something that she's not telling us," he answered.
"I agree. It doesn't make sense to bawl your eyes out over someone you weren't close with," Raye said, although doubt still remained in her heart about that. "Then again, she could've just had a huge crush on him. Since he was married, she just hid the feeling in her heart. I mean, does Margaret seem like the type of woman who would try to destroy another person's marriage?"
"Not really. I don't know her well enough to say for sure."
When they got back to the department, Mrs. Patterson was standing in the center of the room, looking lost. But as soon as her eyes rested on the detectives, her eyes instantly brightened. She waved at them anxiously, beckoning them over.
"Have you had any progress in my husband's murder?" She asked, hope shining in her brown eyes. Her blonde hair was frizzy and looked as if it hadn't been brushed in a while. Her black clothes were all wrinkled and her eyes were red accompanied by tear stained cheeks. 'Poor woman. She must be distraught about her husband's unfortunate death.' Raye thought as she examined the widow's appearance.
"We do have a suspect," Raye said, hoping that would give a little comfort.
"Have you made an arrest?" Mrs. Patterson asked.
"No, because we don't have enough evidence to arrest him," Yaten said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Who is the suspect?" She demanded.
"That is confidential. But I do have one question for you. Where is Mr. Patterson's phone?" Yaten asked, noticing how her eyes widened a bit in surprise.
"Uhh, it was stolen. It probably was taken when my husband was murdered," she said, tears spilling from her eyes again.
With her shoulders slumped, she trudged out of the building.
"I don't like her," Yaten admitted, receiving a glare from his partner.
"Well, that's because you're an antisocial and you get along with nobody," Raye said, waltzing to her desk.
"I get along with you just fine," Yaten stated, following her.
"Do you really think that we get along?" Raye asked.
"We get along better than before," Yaten said.
They paused, seeing no need to speak at the moment. New thoughts formed in the silence. Questions flew around inside their heads. Questions that needed answers.
"So, what do you think about Mr. Blake?" Raye asked.
"I think he did it," Yaten said, as if it made perfect sense.
"Yaten! You can't just make accusations without any proof!" She exclaimed.
"Well you shouldn't have asked," he said, grinning.
"You should know that you can't accuse people like that. It's not nice," she scolded.
He just stared at her incredulously, wondering how things worked inside her head.
"Kou, I hope that you are actually doing real detective work, not just gawking at pretty girls," the chief said, walking past them.
A blush crept onto Yaten's face, becoming a deeper shade every second. He fixed his gaze on his shoes, very embarrassed.
"Well, I think we should look at Mr. Patterson's record, to see if he had any enemies," Raye said, typing on her computer.
"Um, yeah. Okay," he said.
"Well, nothing that really stands out," Raye said. "This is just another dead end."
"I don't know why I am saying this, but I think we should call Mrs. Patterson back in," Yaten said, grimacing.
"Do you know of anyone who might have a grudge against your husband?" Raye asked.
"Well, he used to have a gambling problem. He might have owed a few debts or something," the widow said, wiping tears from her eyes.
Raye pondered on this piece of information. 'People do care a lot about money. They would do anything for it,' she thought. It was certainly a motive. But the message on the wall still didn't fit in.
"That's strange, seeing as how he owns a magazine that helps people save money. It felt like he cared an awful lot about taking good care of money, not just wasting it on lottery tickets," Yaten commented, folding his arms across his chest.
"Well, that was what inspired him to start the magazine. He thought that it would help him with his gambling problem as well as other people's."
"Do you know Mr. Blake?" Yaten abruptly asked, watching Mrs. Patterson closely. Strangely enough, she acted like a stone statue.
"Are you sure?" He asked.
"Well, that's all for now. You may leave," Yaten hastily said, pushing her towards the door. With the door shut, he leaned against it, running his hand through his silver hair. Raye flopped into a chair, propping her head up with her hand.
"What do you think of the gambling problem?" Raye asked.
"I don't think that was why somebody killed him. I feel like there is something that Mrs. Patterson isn't telling us," he replied.
Sorry for taking so long. School has been very stressful and that is about to get a lot worse. Wish me luck in this mighty battle with all the tests! Anyway...
Thank you for reading! It helps knowing that there are people out there who read my story.
Special thanks to: James Birdsong, Sol Bronte, syla04, and Luna Goddess of the Night Sky. Your reviews have kept me going!
Let me know what you think!