Jonathan started at Brenda and Thomas's home where they lived in a picturesque, white ranch house with blue shutters, a well-kept lawn with creepy little garden gnomes, and a decent size porch. Jonathan walked around the neighborhood, circling the block.
He did this when he got a case. Familiarized himself with the scenery, his partner, Micheal used to make fun of him until he came to realize it helped solve these cases. It helps him connect. Standing in front of the Ellis's residence, he turned his back to it looking up at the tall white house across the street.
Jonathan flipped over the welcome mat finding the spare key and opened the door to hardwood floors polished to a high shine. The friendship he had with Thomas remained at the door. Jonathan opened voice memos on his phone; "The deceased was Thomas Adam Ellis. Black male, 38, stood at around 6'2", 6'3". Close to 200 pounds... "Jonathan went around carefully and slowly. He took mental note of the clutter all around. Crumbs missed during the cleaning, and slightly crooked paintings, the way some floorboards creaked louder than others; even the dust particles that danced in the rays of sunlight filtering through the windows. "Autopsy ruled Ellis's death as a heart attack. The wife, Brenda Ellis, thinks differently. She gave me a note written on a napkin. Monogrammed, M.V.G...The note said I'm watching you."
"Today, March 15th, 2023, is the day of Thomas's funeral." Jonathan strolled through the foyer and into the French Style living room where everything including clutter was strategically placed. Not a crumb or speck of dust to be seen. Jonathan hovered by the loveseat, moving the small blue pillows to make room to sit.
"The wife of the deceased-" Jonathan stopped abruptly. He dragged his hand down his face. He sighed deeply taking in the room. "Thomas's wife suspects foul play. She trusts me to solve this investigation, but in all honesty, if you were killed, Thomas... I don't think I'll be the one to bring you justice." Jonathan sat back on the chair. It wasn't as comfortable as it appeared. "This isn't what I expected when I came here, Thom. This isn't what I need. Not now." Jonathan cut off the voice memo.
He wanted to run. Get on the next bus straight out of Little Cove. Block any calls from Brenda and start over. Thomas is gone, there is nothing tying him to her. Jonathan got to his feet, weighed down by the guilt hardening in his chest. Jonathan took his phone out of his pocket and opened a new voice memo.
"I don't know if Thomas was killed. Truly, I don't feel as if it's my place to figure it out. Thomas was my friend... my only friend. I can't be the one to investigate his murder..." A swift and cold breeze grazed along Jonathan's neck. He paid it no mind, only wiping at the back of his neck. In spite of Jonathan's unwillingness. He walked through the entire house. Standing in each room, piecing together the lives of the Ellis family. He suppressed his anxiety long enough to make a thorough sweep once. Ending in Thomas's study.
It was neat and perfect like the rest of the house. Everything is staged like props on a set. Thomas's desk stood in front of a large French window, with your back to the door. The positions made Jonathan's hand twitch with the urge to fix it. Instead, he sat down in the chair and placed his hand firmly on the desk. The cool wood warmed up instantly under his touch.
Jonathan could feel parts of Thomas's essence here. He must've spent hundreds of hours in this chair, looking out that window, with his back towards that door. Images of Thomas working materialized into something tangible. When he rose from the desk, there Thomas was, a fuzzy image slowly flipping through pages of a book. Focused on what's in front of him. As if the rest of the world might as well not exist.
Thomas's mumbles were inaudible, and the word on the pages he read were scribbles.
It's been some time since Jonathan used his gift. As a detective, he relied on this gift. It was the thing that put monsters away for good and gave justice to victims. Jonathan loved this thing he was born with, he excepted it as a part of him. But then...
Darkness took over Jonathan's vision. It was quick, it was sudden. Coming up on him like a flood. His body was weightless, his mind overcrowding with voices, growing louder until they filled his entire body. They dragged him down into a bottomless pit. Falling. Falling.
Jonathan's body ceased up. He tried to pry his mouth out to let out a shout but was unable. As though he was slowly losing control of his body.
"....Jonathan....?" Someone called to him in the distance, and though he was unable to see to label that voice, it allowed him to find his footing. "....Jonathan.... wake up...." Someone grabbed Jonathan by his arms and shook him out of the darkness.
Jonathan was on his back, and Brenda stood above him. searching his face.
"What...?"