No, that can't be, " It was barely a week ago when I saw my mom; what happened to her?"
Angela Questioned, "she had a heart attack." It felt as if the world had consumed her; everything came crumbling down."
For a moment, she thought its some sick prank relating to the call she had received earlier.
Then her brother Jack came an took the phone.
"How did this happen? Mom was healthy and fine."
Jack was crying; It was the middle of the night she had passed away.
"How is dad handling it?"
"He looks fine."
"I wonder if he had something to do with it, that son of an "Angela paused; what if he heard on the other end."
Her brother needed her, and she would stay strong for them both, " how are you holding up? Are those detectives still trailing you?"
"Yes, they are still outside,"
"Jack, you will have to come clean, sooner or later. Have you searched for her?"
Yes, I have; she is nowhere to be found, "What about up the river?"
"We were there also,"
"Who is we, Jack? "Those detectives are watching you like a hawk."
"I know, now is not the time we should be talking about this."
"I know. I am sorry, Bro."
"When will you be leaving the house?"
"I am not sure, but dad is leaving, son; he went on one of those trips."
"Mom, just passed away, and he is leaving?"
"Yes, anyway, I have to go."
"Jack, do not speak to those detectives; they have a way of getting into your head."
"The funeral will be on Saturday. Will you be coming?"
"Yes, I will be coming. I don't want to see his face, though."
Jack hangs up; as he walks over to the window, he drops down to his knees, covering his ears as an excruciating pain shoots through his head."
"You killed me; whispers echo all around him as he turns around, holding his head; whoever you are, get out of my head."
"You a murderer." the voice echoes," it was not me, he screams."
He lifts his hand and starts at it; it's covered in blood, and Jack runs to the bathroom to rub it off. When wiping his eyes, he sees no blood, only his reflection in the mirror.
Jack races to his room, pick up his phone, and dials Ricks's number; it goes straight over to voicemail.
"Everything okay, says an unfamiliar voice behind him,"
"Excuse me?" he turns around; it's the detective who was there earlier; he is standing there with a policeman. " how did you get in."
You are being charged with the murder of Nicole Marshalls.
"I will read you your rights."
"You have the right to remain silent; anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney should you not be able to afford on; we will assist you with a state attorney."
Jack smiles and shakes his head; you have it, wrong guys, as the policeman walks up and cuffs him. "My dad is going to press charges and sue you for this.
Can I give him a call?"
You can Sir down at the station.
The detective was aware of who they were dealing with and knew Mr. Fox had lost his wife, and things were going to get ugly.
They handcuffed Jack and placed him in the police car; Mr. Fox came speeding with his new BMW X1 parking in front of the police car.
They climbed out of the vehicle, pacing fast towards the detective.
"What is happening here?" In a high pitch tone, his grey suit jacket was unbuttoned, his tie was loose, and his hair looked messy. The detective recognized Jack's dad and walked toward him. "Sir, we arrest your son Jack in connection with Nicole Marshalls."
"This is preposterous; his mother just passed away, and now you are coming here to our house while we are grieving, handcuffing my son, "what evidence do you have to prove he murdered Nicole?"
Sir, please step back; Mr. Fox was inches from the detective's face.
You do know who I am, and son of a bitches I put in jail for a living, you better make sure your evidence is sufficient; if it's not, I am going to sue your department, and you can make such due, detective you will lose your badge.
Th detective knew fully well who Mr. Fox was, and he was praying his witness was reliable. "Son, you will be fine. Il gets you in front of a judge before sunset.
Mr. Fox could pull anything off; he had judges and cops in his pocket; he was what they called an underdog; his connections were to the underground world.
Me. Fox followed them down to the station where they had fingerprinted Jack. Jack felt numb as if nothing mattered, he lost them, and maybe it's time he told them the truth, but his dad made it clear that he speaks to no one under any circumstance.
As promised, Mr. Fox had gotten a lawyer, and the witness, the detective, had no longer wanted to talk after realizing who Jack's father was.
Mr. Fox had gotten the detective suspended, and with an investigation in progress, he sued the department promised. Still, due to the nature of the delicacy in the pending investigation, his case was thrown out of court.
Nicole's body was never found, so Jack was convinced she was still alive. After being thrown into a lake and the body disappears, the cops would have discovered her body; even if there were an authentic witness, he would have directed the cops to where he last saw her.
Walking over to her window and glancing out, Jack thought of the days it was cold, and his mother had him and his sister play in the snow, then recalled the fireplace that warmed up the wooded house.
Why does it feel so unreal that she no longer exists, he will never get to see his mother smile again, and she suffered in silence at the hands of his dad, but his dad was too much of a coward to admit to his doings.
After getting back to campus after the funeral, Angela was more comfortable; She had become good friends with Chrissy, Chrissy and Angela became close friends, and Chrissy had a brother. He was, well, different from all others.
He was handsome, not perhaps in the conventional sense, but he had that appearance that could make him stand out in the crowd. He was fair, almost pale white. His unfathomable, golden brown eyes contrasted exceptionally with his light-toned face.
His eyes were as deep and expressive as you could get lost if you stared long enough. His face had that faraway look, which can't be described in words.
His smile, which reached up to his eyes and wrinkled them, flaunted his modesty and humility. Often, you could see a hint of pain in his sparkling eyes, which would disappear as suddenly as it emerged.
He sometimes spoke too fast, perhaps revealing how much agony he concealed within himself. Above all were his frame and his stature. He was not highly muscular, with 8-pack abs or 16 cm biceps. However, he could stand out in a crowd, primarily due to his way of carrying himself. Perhaps he was not the kind who had girls swooning over him. But he was straightforward and innocent. He was probably, just one in a million, "nothing special, but all the same unique."
The first day Angela had met him, they had bumped into eachother in the hallway; she had not known it was Chrissy s brother. Without glancing up while hurrying over to her other class, she had bumped into him. Her books had dropped onto the floor, and when standing up, she looked into his eyes as they both froze, "you're a student here?" He had asked her," would I be carrying this with me if I was not a student?"
He smiled. "I guess not; I am Greg; nice to meet you," he had kept out his hand to shake hers; she looked down at his hand and shook her head, racing off to class, "Greg walked over to his locker, opening it, and there were photos of the girl he had met online and had not heard of in days. Behind him was his sister, "remind me what happened there again."
"You got to stop creeping up on me like that, Chrissy; I don't know, she had just gone silent, her messages are not delivering, I tried calling her, and her phone is off."
"I warned you, these online girls or guys just end up ghosting you. Have you met my new friend?"
"New friend? No, I have been busy, but if she is anything as weird as you are, I do not want to meet her."
"Stop looking for excuses; you are just shy; how long do you know this girl from online anyway, and we're you guys not supposed to meet on the evening she had stopped talking to you?"
"Yes, I went to the restaurant we were supposed to meet at, and she never pitched, but I am sure a pickup truck passed the diner with her in the middle."
What exactly did you see, Greg? "We will catch up at lunch. I have to get to class. Greg closed his locker, forgetting to lock it; his sister had a duplicate key. As she stood there, she was about to shut it; she then looked at this girl in the photo Greg had been talking to online, maybe of. She snapped an image she could help him find out what happened that evening. Removing her smartphone, she snapped a photo and locked the locker before the bell went off.