When the police had arrived and had gotten an understanding of recent events, they effectively cordoned off the house and began going through the process of taking statements, asking questions, and performing follow-ups with Jon and his various relatives. Statements, questions, and follow-ups, rinse, wash, repeat.
Jon had already given clear directions to the police where he had last seen Judas, allowing the cops to find his cousin's remains. From what snippets that he could hear over the police's radios, it sounded like they were still picking up pieces off of the ground. Hell of a way to go. Sure, Judas had something of a drinking problem, but until that point of time, he was largely harmless. So what could have driven him over the edge?
Then again, he barely knew his cousin, and he was already dead, so there wasn't much use in speculating. He sighed as his knee shook uncontrollably, as he quietly sat next to his mother, his fingers loosely laced together as he stewed in his own thoughts. He had shot and killed plenty of animals before whenever he had gone hunting with his father.
Mostly deer, sometimes a possum or a raccoon that was making a nuisance of itself on their property, but a person? He had never shot a person before. It was definitely different. He felt a sense of guilt for having to shoot his cousin, though he acknowledged that perhaps, it was unavoidable. He was clearly intoxicated and deranged… not a good combination. He did try to deescalate the situation, though of course that was utterly fruitless.
He glanced out the window, and saw the remains of Judas (What was recovered) had been placed on a gurney and being placed and zipped up inside of a body bag. Observing and supervising the actions of the police was a woman dressed all in black, her hair also black, and she wore mirrored sunglasses, her face pale and gaunt, almost sickly looking.
At first, he supposed that she was a superior officer of some sort, however, he noticed that none of the other officers spoke with or interacted with her. Some officers would cast a few glances at her, but not a single one approached her or even sent a word her way. Finally, she moved and approached the bagged remains of Judas, the coroner standing next to the remains with a clipboard in hand.
The woman in black seemed to briefly say something to the coroner, her lips moving almost imperceptibly, however the coroner nodded to her. She then gave a slow nod and walked away and then climbed into a black Ford Mustang, a very nice car in his opinion, and then she drove away.
"Excuse me son, did you hear me?" An officer asked Jon, breaking him out of his musing. Questions, statements, follow-ups. Rinse. Wash. Repeat. He sighed deeply in annoyance, deeply desiring for the day to come to an end so that he could process these recent events. He wasn't sure how many times he had to repeat the same statements over and over before he lost his mind.
Once again, he gave his statement, explaining events in as much detail as possible, quickly rattling off what had transpired to the officer who dutifully jotted down his words on a notepad while nodding his head along. The officer then opened his mouth, as if preparing to ask Jon some questions, which had already been asked and answered, but was stopped when a hand tapped his shoulder.
The policeman turned and suddenly went stiff as he found himself staring at his own reflection of the mirrored sunglasses worn by the woman in black. Jon raised an eyebrow, certain that he had witnessed her driving off earlier, unless he was mistaken. She stared at the officer, her face blank and devoid of any emotion.
"Mine." She spoke quietly, barely above a whisper as she held out her hand expectantly, the leather of her black gloves squeaking slightly. The officer gave a slow and almost robotic nod as he slowly placed the notepad into her waiting hand. She then made a shooing gesture, prompting the officer to immediately march out without any protest or questioning.
The woman in black turned her gaze to Jon for a brief moment, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly, as though she were giving a small smirk of amusement. She then pocketed the notepad and spoke to him in a soft voice "Hello Jon. My name is Amy Paucity. At your service."
She extended a hand to him, which he accepted and gently shook, finding her hand to feel a little cold despite the presence of her gloves, then again, she had been out in the cold not that long ago, she probably had yet to warm up. Jon feared that he was once again about to be questioned for the umpteenth time today, however, instead of running through the usual questions, she asked him "How are you? Need anything? I know you have been through hell these past few hours."
"That's a major understatement. Had to shoot my cousin, said cousin got torn limb from limb by wolves, now I've been asked the same questions on a loop all day. Not my idea of a good day at all." Jon responded tiredly, running a hand across his face as he felt a strong urge to lock himself inside of his bedroom, curl up in his bed and let his mind rest.
Amy said nothing, only stared at him with a strange little smile that was perhaps one of amusement. From behind her mirrored sunglasses, Jon could feel her piercing gaze, making him feel like a bug trapped beneath a microscope. What made it even more unnerving was the fact that he couldn't tell what she was possibly thinking about since he couldn't see her eyes.
"I knew your father. Good strong man. He loved you very much." She finally spoke, catching Jon off guard with that statement. "Such a shame when he passed. There was so much he wanted to do with you, so much that he wanted to tell you." She continued on.
"How did you know my father?" Jon asked since he never knew many of his father's friends. What could her connection be to him?
"We knew each other through a mutual friend. Please excuse me for now, I must be going. Should you need anything, feel free to reach out." She answered briefly before reaching into her breast pocket and produced a card that she held between her fingers as she presented to him.
He accepted the card, which was made of a shiny black material, it had no name or address on it, only a phone number that was in gold.
"Thanks." Jon said as he pocketed the card. Amy's lips twitched again, almost as if she were fighting back a smile as she pulled her mirrored sunglasses down slightly before she replied "Anytime. See you soon."
Jon slowly nodded as he tried to peer past her sunglasses, he wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, but he could almost swear that where her eyes should be… there was nothing there but a pair of pitch black holes that seemed to swallow up the light. He felt a chill creep up his spine as she replaced her glasses.
She then gave him a two fingered salute and walked out of the house. What a strange person. She seemed friendly enough but… there was something definitely off about her.
He continued watching her through the window, she appeared to be giving instructions to the other officers who all nodded along with everything that she had said. Once she was finished, she got back into her Mustang and drove off, this time Jon observed her leaving until her vehicle vanished down the road.
After this, the other police officers finally gave the all-clear and permitted everyone to return home and wished everyone well before departing, either to their respective hotels or directly to their homes earlier than planned. Hurried goodbyes, farewells and sympathetic wishes were offered as everyone left.
At long last, it was only Jon and his mother Julie who remained. The latter seemed to almost collapse on the couch with a loud sigh and began mumbling something to herself that he couldn't quite hear. He decided to give her some space and leave her be for the time being, believing it to be best for them to rest and recuperate after the day's events.
He returned to his room and almost felt himself sink into the familiar comfort of his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he finally had a moment of peace and quiet. He then reached beneath his bed and pulled out a large photo album that he kept for family pictures. While it was most convenient that phones could act as cameras and save pictures in both their memory and the cloud, Jon preferred good old fashioned physical pictures.
Something that he could feel in his hands, which felt more personal to him. He opened up a section of the album that was filled with numerous pictures of his father, Sam. Jon smiled fondly as he looked at pictures of his dad, some were taken during a trip to a famed amusement park, there were some of various birthday parties from over the years, a few were of himself and his father posing with an animal they had hunted and killed together.
Finally, there was one photo of Jon, his father, and a well dressed old gentleman that he recognized as his grandfather. What was his name again? That was the first and only time that Jon could remember meeting his grandfather from his dad's side of the family. Oh, wait, Darius! Darius Winters. That was the name.
It was just the three of them together in a movie theater just before the lights dimmed for the movie, they ended up watching a superhero movie involving a shield slinging hero who fought in World War 2. He remembered his grandfather as being very kind, and spoiling him with expensive movie snacks ranging from popcorn, candy, and as much soda as he could drink. Best part? They had the whole theater to themselves so there were no annoying patrons chattering during the movie or looking at or talking on their phones, which annoyed him greatly.
As Jon looked at the photo of himself and his father and grandfather, he saw the face of someone in the background, lingering in the darkness. He had never really noticed this before today, not surprising since this unknown 'someone' seemed to be dressed all in black and even seemed to be wearing sunglasses inside the theater.
"Wait a minute." Jon muttered as he squinted his eyes and looked closer to try and identify who this person was. The photo was slightly blurred, making it hard to tell who it was in the background… but he was fairly certain that it was that officer he had met before. Amy Paucity.
Strange, he certainly didn't remember her being there. He had been certain that it was just himself and his father and grandfather in that theater, unless he had been mistaken. Jon tried his best to remember anyone from his father's side of the family, but drew nothing but blanks. After his father's death, he had expected to see his grandfather at the funeral, but he had never made an appearance. He did remember though that all the necessary fees for the funeral had been waived and paid for by someone else, presumably his grandfather.
There were times that Jon wished that he knew how to reach his grandfather, but he didn't have his number, nor did his mother seem to know either. Now that he thought about it, when he used to ask about his grandfather, his mother would always get this sour look on her face for some reason.
As he mused on this, Jon was startled by the sound of his phone, ringing loudly and buzzing in his pocket, which almost made him drop his photo album. He sighed in annoyance as he pulled his phone from his pocket to see who was calling, only to see that the caller ID was marked as 'unknown'.
He sighed in aggravation, believing that it was some telemarketer or scammer of some sort and chose to silence it and ignore the call. When the phone stopped buzzing, he set it on his nightstand so that he may return to looking through the pictures of his father, only for the phone to start ringing again almost immediately.
Only this time, the caller ID was marked as 'Pick up the phone!'. Jon tilted his head in curiosity, whoever was threatening to blow up his phone must have wanted to talk with him badly. He chose to answer and see who the caller was and what they wanted. If they were indeed a scammer or telemarketer he'd say to them his favorite line 'Suck dirt and die. Call me again and I'll kill you'
He picked up his phone and answered, bringing it up to his ear as he greeted in an even tone "Yello?"
There was a brief pause until a voice spoke on the other end, a voice that he hadn't heard in years but still very much recognized. "Jon? This is your grandfather, Darius, speaking. We need to talk."