Sabrina Álvarez
I had been on this case for almost four days and I still couldn't make heads or tails of it. Only one piece of a loose end to incriminate that homicidal bastard and prove my client innocent. But it seemed like I was going around in circles.The waste of space and pathetic excuse for a human being was a clever motherfucker. He had cleaned up his tracks almost effortlessly. Just one slip was all I needed to wrap it all up.
Just one.
You see, I'm a lawyer, at a firm that had given me an ultimatum last week. Either, I win this case or I clear up my desk to make way for the next slave. I have some pretty big wins in my arsenal. They had helped me earn the stability of working at an established firm. Yet, it seemed I've been down on my luck lately, given my string of lost cases for the past six months.
This is my last chance, to salvage any chance of starting my own firm, one day. So yeah, taking this high profile case had seemed like a great way to prove my mettle.
At the time.
I stared at the gruesome pictures of the crime scene stuck on the clip board above my work table. The first time I saw the images of the mangled corpse, I had barely restrained myself from retching. Since then, I had looked at them so many times that it did not even register anymore.
It was just a corpse. That's it.
As I let my eyes wander, I realised that what my flatmate/ best friend Brie thought was right. My workplace was a mess. All pieces of evidence and notes I had made on this case were stuck to the board. There were files of unsolved cases piled on my desk that I had been studying. The white board I was using, to figure out patterns was something, nobody else could figure out.
My room was a mess too.
Unmade bed. Check
Clothes littering the floor. Check
Cluttered bookshelves. Check
Boxes full of god knows what. Double Check.
It was all utter chaos. Just like my life.
And I loved every part of it.
This was my environment and I thrived in it. Just like how pigs are more healthy in filth.
The angry red digits on the clock, at my desk, blinked back at me, a silent testament to how I had slaved off the night. Again. It was 4a.m, the Sun wasn't out yet and only a faint light was visible from the open window. Well, that made it still night in my book, which meant I could still go to bed.
I stretched like a cat after getting off the offending thing, that the store lady downtown called a chair. It was damned uncomfortable and needed to go as soon as possible. I made a mental note to bring up the issue with Brie. Furniture were her department after all. The bed was calling to me like a siren does to a sailor.
I took off my T-shirt and shorts, leaving me in only my panties. Cool air on my heated skin was pure bliss. The bed seemed extra soft as I got under the covers.Today was a Sunday, so I hoped not to see another human being before at least noon. I placed one pillow between my thighs and another under my feet. One more on my other side for when I rolled over.
No judging. My bed, my rules.
As sleep enveloped me, the only thing I could remember thinking, was that the curtains were not closed.
∆∆∆∆∆∆
I have no idea, what woke me up.
The incessant ringing of my phone (forgot to silence the damn thing again) or the light falling square on my face through the windows that were wide open (forgot to close the curtains again). The clock on the bedside table showed that it was 2pm.
Time for lunch. Correction tea then lunch.
The phone was still ringing so, I reached out to it without even opening my eyes. By now, I've become adept at accepting calls while half asleep. After croaking a little 'hello' I dropped it beside my head on the pillow and rolled over so that I was facing it.
"Ms Álvarez?", asked a deep husky voice from the other end.
"Uh huh", that was the only response my half asleep ass could come up with.
"I am Thomas Wilder. I was wondering if an appointment could be arranged, today. We can meet at your office or keep it to an informal setting like a cafe or a restaurant----"
At this point I had already zoned out.
No way in hell , was I getting out of bed today, unless it was to the kitchen, for snacks.
Not even for the fucking President.
"I can assure you there is a reason for my call, and this would not be a waste of your time"
"Really?"
"Yes, absolutely"
"Tell me, then. What do you want to talk about?"
I buried my face interview he pillow to stifle a yawn. This guy was an absolute bore.
"I'm sorry, Miss but this is something that cannot be said over the phone. It is better to have a face to face conversation"
"Alright, I will think about it"
"Wait, NO! Why? I mean what do you mean, 'you will think about it'? This is important"
Ok, He is starting to me annoy me now.
"Look, I don't know what calender you use, but today is a Sunday. I've had a shit week with absolutely no sleep to speak of. This the first time I've touched my bed for god knows how long. So, this is my humble request to you, Stop. Bothering. Me"
"But, you should really hear--"
"You know what? Fine. I will 'hear' what you have to say, but not today. Can you, like do...tomorrow, maybe?"
Uh…"
The line went silent and just when I was starting to think he was gone, his voice came back.
"No problem, Ms Álvarez, tomorrow would be wonderful. I will call in advance to schedule an appointment. Good day, Ms Álvarez, and…have a good—erm…sleep."
With that the line went dead. I pushed the phone under the pillow, silenced this time and draped the comforter over my head. I tried my best to go back to sleep but my mind kept wandering back to the conversation I just had. That man was acting all kinds of weird. Now, I really do want to know what he has in store.
"Ugh!!"
After struggling for a while, I threw the covers off of me and sat up. This is getting me nowhere.
Thank you so much, Thomas Wilder, for ruining my Sunday.
Good sleep, my foot!