left.
Around the corner was a small grocery store owned by an elderly man named George Ross. Jessica walked there and ambled around the store a while. She finally chose a Diet Coke and put it on her Visa.
A memory came flooding back as she paid. As a child, she and Michelle would save their pennies. When they had enough, they would hop a fence near their apartment building and go to the grocery store next door. They would purchase strawberry milk and candy bars, as much as their money would allow, and then sit on the fence and eat them and talk.
Jessica thought it was around fifth grade for Michelle and sixth for her; the closest they had ever been. They would talk about who they were going to marry and what boys at school were cute. Which teachers were treating them unfairly.
And then Jessica went to middle school.
It was only a year difference, but some sort of change happened in Michelle. When she got to middle school, she didn’t spend time with Jessica anymore. Worse, it didn’t seem like she wanted to spend time with her. She had her own group of friends, and not a group that Jessica wanted to be around. One of the girls had a tongue piercing, and Michelle had followed suit. Now, it was hardly something to be noticed. But fifteen years ago it was a sign that something was wrong. Her parents had put Michelle in therapy, and after that, the rift between them and her grew so wide, it could never go back to what it was.
As Jessica walked out of the store, she thought about the last conversation she had with her sister. She tried desperately to remember what they had fought over. As if remembering would somehow make her feel less awful about it.
But the memory just wouldn’t come.
6
As Thomas Garcia closed the file on his desk, a sense of achievement flowed through him in a way he hadn’t felt for years. The suspect was in the interrogation room and the arrest was about to be made.
The case had been an old one. Two men got into an argument outside of a strip club in downtown Seattle. One of the strippers, named Diamond, had apparently been dating one of the men and sleeping with the other.
But Diamond, unfortunately, had been shot when her lover pulled out a firearm and let off six rounds. Killing her and her boyfriend. That left no witnesses, and a case that grew so cold, every detective that caught it thought to put it in the open-unsolved drawers in the basement.
It wasn’t until Garcia followed up on the case that they had their big break. Though the initial investigators had interviewed everyone at the club, they didn’t interview everyone that had been there that night. Garcia painstakingly went through the club’s credit card receipts at the bar and found one for near the time of the murder. When he followed up and went to the man’s house, he admitted that he had been in his car, with one of the strippers, and had seen the shooting but was too frightened to come forward. He gave them an excellent description, which led to a composite sketch pasted on every news channel for a night.
Using the sketch, the man’s own brother turned him in for the five thousand dollar reward money.
And now, after six hours of interrogation, the suspect had gone through in detail the night of the murder. Though he claimed it was in self defense. But that didn’t matter. Something for the lawyers to fight over. Garcia had gotten his collar.
As Garcia rose from his desk and grabbed his suit coat to head home, three uniforms walked by. They stopped and clapped, hooting obscenities. He nodded, smiled, and said, “Thank you.” He hoped he wasn’t blushing.
Out in the parking lot, he climbed into his black Mercedes S Class and headed home.
Home was nothing more than a condo, but it was a condo overlooking Puget Sound. An inlet of the Pacific, Puget Sound had the appearance of a large lake with all the benefits of an ocean. Including the mournful cries of humpback whales, which Garcia listened to
Around the corner was a small grocery store owned by an elderly man named George Ross. Jessica walked there and ambled around the store a while. She finally chose a Diet Coke and put it on her Visa.
A memory came flooding back as she paid. As a child, she and Michelle would save their pennies. When they had enough, they would hop a fence near their apartment building and go to the grocery store next door. They would purchase strawberry milk and candy bars, as much as their money would allow, and then sit on the fence and eat them and talk.
Jessica thought it was around fifth grade for Michelle and sixth for her; the closest they had ever been. They would talk about who they were going to marry and what boys at school were cute. Which teachers were treating them unfairly.
And then Jessica went to middle school.
It was only a year difference, but some sort of change happened in Michelle. When she got to middle school, she didn’t spend time with Jessica anymore. Worse, it didn’t seem like she wanted to spend time with her. She had her own group of friends, and not a group that Jessica wanted to be around. One of the girls had a tongue piercing, and Michelle had followed suit. Now, it was hardly something to be noticed. But fifteen years ago it was a sign that something was wrong. Her parents had put Michelle in therapy, and after that, the rift between them and her grew so wide, it could never go back to what it was.
As Jessica walked out of the store, she thought about the last conversation she had with her sister. She tried desperately to remember what they had fought over. As if remembering would somehow make her feel less awful about it.
But the memory just wouldn’t come.
6
As Thomas Garcia closed the file on his desk, a sense of achievement flowed through him in a way he hadn’t felt for years. The suspect was in the interrogation room and the arrest was about to be made.
The case had been an old one. Two men got into an argument outside of a strip club in downtown Seattle. One of the strippers, named Diamond, had apparently been dating one of the men and sleeping with the other.
But Diamond, unfortunately, had been shot when her lover pulled out a firearm and let off six rounds. Killing her and her boyfriend. That left no witnesses, and a case that grew so cold, every detective that caught it thought to put it in the open-unsolved drawers in the basement.
It wasn’t until Garcia followed up on the case that they had their big break. Though the initial investigators had interviewed everyone at the club, they didn’t interview everyone that had been there that night. Garcia painstakingly went through the club’s credit card receipts at the bar and found one for near the time of the murder. When he followed up and went to the man’s house, he admitted that he had been in his car, with one of the strippers, and had seen the shooting but was too frightened to come forward. He gave them an excellent description, which led to a composite sketch pasted on every news channel for a night.
Using the sketch, the man’s own brother turned him in for the five thousand dollar reward money.
And now, after six hours of interrogation, the suspect had gone through in detail the night of the murder. Though he claimed it was in self defense. But that didn’t matter. Something for the lawyers to fight over. Garcia had gotten his collar.
As Garcia rose from his desk and grabbed his suit coat to head home, three uniforms walked by. They stopped and clapped, hooting obscenities. He nodded, smiled, and said, “Thank you.” He hoped he wasn’t blushing.
Out in the parking lot, he climbed into his black Mercedes S Class and headed home.
Home was nothing more than a condo, but it was a condo overlooking Puget Sound. An inlet of the Pacific, Puget Sound had the appearance of a large lake with all the benefits of an ocean. Including the mournful cries of humpback whales, which Garcia listened to
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