anerdgirl-writes

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I know nothing with any certainty but the sight of stars makes me dream
vincent van gogh

A need for secrecy

May 15, 2017



9 am on a Friday morning, in a large house with blue panels and white trim surrounded by police cars, a man saw a ghost.

Daniel walked into the into the house and was not at all surprised or phased to find a dead body in there. The body being there was, in fact, the very reason he had been called to the house in the first place. In the throng of people, above the ruckus of the room, his brain picked her out immediately. She was kneeling on the floor looking down at the body that sat there, taking notes on her phone. He walked through the crowd almost in a daze, until he made it to the back of the room where she knelt. He had absolutely no idea what to say but he stuttered, “What the heck?”

She said nothing for a while-as if she was somehow taunting him. She didn’t even look at him. “Good Morning, Agent Harrison, lovely day to solve a murder isn't it?” Agent Harrison. The words, the name, although it was his own stung him, she hadn't called him that in years. She left, now she was back and ignoring him almost completely.  

Of course, the feat of Elizabeth Allen coming back from her mystery vacation isn’t the only mystery in this story, although it may be the most twisted.

----

As for this victim, he seemed to be cracked over the head with one of his statuettes that had been placed meticulously in rows not only in that room but, around the house as a whole. “Who found the body?” He asked no one in particular, knowing that someone in the room would eventually answer him.

“The wife.” A voice called.

“Anyone interview her yet?” He asked again, no one in particular in mind this time as well.

“Liz’s is doing it.” A voice answered from below him, Oliver, the medical examiner who was still looking over the body.

Daniel scoffed a little,  “Yeah. I don't know who that is but, I don’t think it's Lizzy. “

“Really? Looks like her and-oh. You mean-” Daniel nodded, as Oliver stuck his head back down and continued with his work.

Daniel took a second to look around, nice house, nice neighborhood, and now someone had been murdered, that would probably bring the property value down. He wondered for a second, how in gated community with a guard at the gate, (one he had struggled to get past on the way in), how someone could’ve gotten in to murder this man. It meant it had to be someone he knew-Daniel made a mental note of that

She didn’t speak to him, for the rest of the time they were at the scene. When he was in his car, she sent him an itemized list of everything that she had learned. He smiled a little at that, she was meticulous and always made sure that everyone knew what she knew so that they wouldn't ask her what she considered, ‘dumb’ questions.

The message read:

Name-Michael Julien
Occupation: Congressional Aide (Anthony Weatherly)
Wife -High life insurance policy but hair doesn't match found at the scene also had an alibi.
COD-for now-blunt trauma.
I’ll meet you at the office.

He decided to follow her directions and not press any further. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he knew some basic rules for dealing with her, they had been working together for a long time.

^^^^^^^

As they walked up the marble steps of the Capital building, Elizabeth and Daniel were still veiled in the thick cloud of silence and questions that had been surrounding them ever since that morning. They had agreed, at least for the moment, to just talk about work so the only questions spoken aloud would be about the case. They were off to interview Michael Julien’s boss, Anthony Weatherly.

Upon entering his office, both of them found themselves overwhelmed by the amount of attention he paid to himself. Rows upon rows, of awards, campaign posters, any picture of himself that he could find seemed to be posted on the walls. Unlike Michael Julien’s house, these things were not meticulously organized; they were placed in a random order. “If Michael had OCD, then he must’ve hated coming in here,” Daniel whispered as they walked in. She smiled for a moment before her face immediately turned back into the hard set frown that she had been wearing since he had first seen her. Her smile made him outwardly smile for a moment, hoping to keep hers in place, but as soon as it fell, he looked dejected. They waded through the crowd of extra guards waiting outside the office, ready in case anyone wanted to attack the congressman, although it seemed highly unlikely.

Once they made it into the inner sanctum, where the big chief, boss, ruler of all that the posters of himself touched, Anthony Weatherly sat in his office chair, looking at something on the computer.

“Congressman Weatherly,” Elizabeth called, tapping her foot impatiently against the floor. “Congressman-”

“Uh..yes?” The congressman replied, pushing his glasses up on his face.  “Sorry, I was checking over some magazine covers. Now, who are you?”

“Go figure,” Elizabeth whispered to Daniel, then she turned. “FBI Agents, we’re here to talk about Michael's murder.”

“Oh yes, Michael. We never did work very closely, but I am very saddened at his death. I can’t tell you much about him but maybe my son, Thomas could-or Daisy. His co-worker, my secretary. She's right outside.”

“Thanks for all your help,” Elizabeth said sarcastically, as they exited the office and went to find Daisy. After again wading through the crowd of security guards, they finally found Daisy, aimlessly typing away at her desk.

“Are you Daisy?” Daniel asked her.

“Do you wanna make something out of it? I’m busy and-” Then Elizabeth flashed her badge in Daisy’s face. That made Daisy visibly panic for a moment, then she ran.



 

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