Only Doors

CHAPTER ONE The day started drearily with the windows covered with fog. The man peered out with a sigh. “Damned Mondays,” He thought pessimistically. He waited for the rain to pass before settling into his upholstered office chair with his pipe. The smoke wafted through the room searching for release in the airless room. He stroked his beard curiously thinking about his need to shave, his need to bathe, his need to sleep or eat or do anything vaguely human. He pulled the papers out of his desk searching through them aimlessly. He stared at the phone wistfully mentally begging it to ring. “Ring” He thought. “Please God, let it ring.” But to no avail. He bargained with it, “All right, either you ring or I kill myself.” He pulled the shiny black .9 Millimeter out of the drawer and pointed it at his temple. “Now ring!” He thought, clutching the trigger. But instead of the ring of the phone, the doorbell rang instead. The man sighed and put down the gun; put it back into the drawer with all the old photos. He got up and opened the door to one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her hair was the shade of blond seen only in very old movies and she wore a short red dress that matched the shade of her lipstick perfectly. The only imperfection that the man could find was a very small mole on the tip of the woman’s nose. She pushed her hair back quickly, trying to carry an air of professionalism but exuding sexuality. “Hello, I’m looking for Detective David I. Seward?” She intoned pushing her chest out to display a heart-shaped tattoo on her décolletage. “Who’s asking, Sweetheart?” He asked trying to make the whole unclean thing seem sexy instead of transient. “My name is Serena Silver, not Sweetheart. I’m a feminist, Mr. Seward, and I’d prefer if you kept the misogynistic remarks for those who are flattered by them, not insulted. Also, if you would look at my eyes and not my chest, that would be greatly appreciated.” Seward instantly looked up at her eyes, the most vibrant shade of brown he had ever seen. “I am in need of a Detective and I found your ad in a very old copy of the Yellow Pages. Can you help me or not?” “Well, what is it that you need me to do, sugar? Find out if your hubby is straying? Or find a lost kitten? Because I’m not that kind of Detective, Ms. Silver, and you should probably go to another Detective.” And he began to close the door. She stuck her 4-inch Louboutin pumps through the door.

“It’s a murder, Detective, a murder and kidnapping. Is that interesting enough for you?” She murmured with a small smile. “That’ll do.” Detective Seward answered with a grin and let her in. CHAPTER TWO Serena looked around the small office and wrinkled her nose. “I heard you were supposed to be good, comparable to Sherlock Holmes, but the state of this office? Comparable to Pigpen. Simply disgusting.” She sat into a chair carefully trying to put the least amount of body space on the chair. “Hey, I don’t judge you. Or maybe I should? What happened? Who’s dead?” Seward sat. “My husband has been murdered. I woke up one morning about three days ago and discovered he was missing. This didn’t alarm me as I knew he was seeing another woman, but when I went into the freezer for ice for my morning scotch, I found him dead between the pork chops and the margarita mix.” “And the kidnapping? Was it your kid?” “No, no. I am without child, thank God. Obviously I was upset when I discovered my husband so I called my lover and found that they too were missing.” “So, who’s the guy you’re foolin’ with? Could he have maybe killed your husband and ditched town?” “No, I severely doubt that. The ‘guy’ that I’m ‘fooling’ with’s name is Melissa Vane, my 90-pound lesbian lover.” CHAPTER THREE “So, why’d you come to me?” Seward asked lighting another cigarette and leaning back in his chair with his notepad. The twist of the woman’s lover had come as somewhat of a surprise to Detective being the appearance of the woman, but not wanting to seem ogling or overly focused on the woman’s sexuality he simply wanted to continue. It had been three years since the last case he had taken, after he swore off detective work for good. He shook his head of the memories and tried to

focus on the plight of the woman. “I had to. The police are suspecting me of the murder. I am actually living with my ex right now, just to keep myself out of jail. I promise you I did not murder my husband or kidnap Melissa.” “Scout’s Honor?” Seward said sarcastically picking up two fingers. “How am I supposed to trust you? Who else was connected? Who should I suspect here, other than you?” “I’m not on trial here! I have an alibi!” Serena shouted rising from the chair and slamming her hands on the desk. “You know nothing about me! I have half a mind just to leave.” “Fine, leave. You’re doing me no favors, honey. You’re not even paying me, so just go. If you can’t prove your innocence and give me a valid alibi, you’re wasting my time.” “Fine, where I was all night three nights ago? I was at work. I work as a professional assistant to a very rich man.” “Oh, really? That just sounds like a fancy name for a streetwalker.” “I do what I have to!” Serena screeched. “Sure, that’s what feminism is all about.” Seward sneered. “I’m just trying to pay for my education for a way out, All right?” “A way out of what?” Seward stood pounding the table. “I’m—” And Serena broke down into tears into the chair. Seward walked around the desk to Serena and put his hand on her back. “I’m pregnant… and I’m being abused.”

CHAPTER FOUR Seward took the case. After the incentive of the money promised to him after the case was over, it was hard not to. Seward sat in his office with his new notes on the case. The case files were clear: the husband, Manuel Silver was murdered by being shot five times point blank in the head and cut in half and fit into the freezer. The last time that Melissa Vane was seen was at a grocery store buying celery and cheesecake at around nine p.m. on the night Manuel was murdered. Serena was out with her “benefactor” until about seven the next morning. Seward went over the case files again and again to keep his mind off of the old case files sitting in the drawer. He pulled open the drawer gently fingering the ends of the papers and photographs until his fingers met the cold silver of the gun

again. Without warning he pulled out the drawer and threw it against the wall. He put his face in his hands in his lap. “Get it together, Seward. You can do this.” He got up quickly throwing on his coat and walking out the door. Seward arrived at the crime scene just as the sun began to set. He walked under the crime scene tape just as he heard a feminine screech. “What do you think you’re doing? Murderer! Murderer!” An old woman screeched across the street. “Hey, lady! Quiet down. I’m not doing anything. I’m a detective, ma’am.” Seward said firmly. “Have you seen anything out of place around here either before or after the murder? Anyone suspicious?” “Only that hussy who lived here! Coming and going at all hours of the night with all kinds of street urchins and the like! Can you believe it men and women both! Just like a common prostitute. I knew this neighborhood was going downhill when I saw that tramp moving in. Her and her ‘husband’. What kind of husband allows a women to bring home men and women at three o’ clock in the morning? And him! Not much better, bringing home women with fishnet stockings! With holes! Despicable!” She ranted and ranted about the dread of her neighbors while Seward attempted to paint an accurate character sketch of Mr. and Mrs. Silver in his head. “Thanks, Babycakes, but I got work to do. Just… keep an eye out All right?” Seward walked under the crime tape into the brownstone. Seward imagined the home being overwrought with blood and sex. He could imagine the signs of struggle of the murder of Manuel Silver. He could practically smell the stench of blood and sex already, simply imagining the wreckage from both the lives and death of the Silvers. However, as he switched on the light switch the image of a den of sin full of handcuffs and smelling of patchouli did not appear. Instead, the perfect picture of suburban cleanliness appeared. The entire house smelled of vanilla candles and bleach and the walls shone bright white. On the mantle there were pictures of the happy Silvers staring out with smiles seemingly madly in love. There were area rugs, ottomans, shaker end tables, a breakfront, throw pillows, even shoji screens all simply screaming ‘IKEA’ and nothing was out of place. Everything was perfect and the pictures were straight on the walls. Nothing at all was out of place. Seward looked around curiously, searching for a possible stray blood drop or anything to show the sin or death that took place in this place. He searched through the bedrooms and bathrooms and again found nothing. There was, however, a

good amount of cleaning products under the sinks that could indicate that the murder was cleaned up after. However, there was no sign whatsoever of the lustful lives that the Silvers had lived with their various lovers and prostitutes coming and going out of this home. Even the books on the shelves were alphabetized. Giving these books a closer look however, Seward discovered something strange. The bookshelf seemed to be jutting about 5 inches out of the wall. Seward pushed the shelf gently and felt the entire shelf roll forward to reveal a hidden door. “Aha!” Seward exclaimed, feeling like Sherlock Holmes for finding a hidden door in such a fashion. It felt almost cliché, but he paid it no mind as he opened the door with a deep creak. As he walked into the room he felt a cold breeze exit and felt the cold concrete hard on his shoes. The room smelled dank and vaguely like baby oil as he entered. He felt vaguely uncomfortable around the handcuffs hanging from the ceiling and mirrors covered with lines of cocaine as he searched for anything out of the ordinary in the disgusting den of sin. He walked into the small attached bathroom and found the place the severing of Mr. Silver took place. The entire half bath was drenched in blood. There were entrails on the floor and in the sink. There was a hatchet, machete, and chainsaw all covered with blood as possible murder weapons. The scene was stomach wrenching but Detective Seward simply shrugged it off and pulled out his camera. He had seen such carnage before, but before it had been closer to home. The remains of Mr. Silver no way compared to the things in the past that had hit Detective Seward's own family. The case, his last: the one in the drawer, put away from human eyes, especially Seward's still haunted him. He shook his head banishing the thought again. All of a sudden out of the horror of the blood covering every surface of the half bath, a midi version of “American Idiot” by Green Day sounded out from the small sink. As Seward reached for the phone he saw the name: Olivia Silver. This was recognized as Manuel's estranged sister. Seward allowed the call to go voice mail as he wiped off the blood with a small towel. Listening to the message, Seward heard an angry shrill voice shouting: “Manny, I swear to God, I'm going to kill you as soon as I see you. I don't know how you could do that to me, but I sure as hell am going to get you if it's the last thing I ever do!” CHAPTER FIVE

“The first suspect is Olivia Silver, your sister-in-law. Did she have any reason to harm Manuel?” Seward questioned Serena. “Where should I start?” Serena quipped lighting a cigarette. “Could you not smoke in my office, please?” “Why not? This entire office is a craphole. What's one cigarette butt? It smells like smoke anyway in here.” “It's the principle of the matter. It's my office and I'd prefer if you kept an air of professionalism.” “Fine, whatever.” Serena murmured putting out the cigarette underneath her high heel, burning a hole in the carpet. “So, why were the Silver sibling estranged? What happened? Was there some sort of event in their youth?” “No, basically it was Olivia's disapproval of me. She disapproved of our marriage from the start. At our wedding she literally stood up and objected to our union calling me a slut. Everyone knew why, of course.” “Why?” “It's because I 'broke her heart' after we broke up by dating her brother. I told her that I wasn't interested in her as much as her brother and she flipped. She stalked Manuel and me for a while and called at all hours of the night. She was obsessed with me! She once told me that if she couldn't have me nobody would. She was one for the dramatic. She went to school for drama and was training to be an actress until that horrible breast augmentation. Now she's some sort of 'spiritual guru'. I think her cult meets downtown at some warehouse. If you're looking for her, that's where she'll be.” “Great, but what had Manuel done recently to make Olivia threaten his life?” Serena smiled, all sharp teeth and bravado. “He did it again. He stole Olivia's lover. Again.” Seward sighed. Couldn't anything be easy for once? This whole web of sexual complications was getting exhausting. Why couldn't the most likely suspect be the one who killed the victim, even once? Why did people have such complicated lives? Why couldn't they make things easy for once? He walked up to the door and could vaguely hear, “Breathe in and out. Feel love enter every cell of your body.” Seward groaned; if this was another orgy fest or bloodbath he would just quit then and there. He heard the voice of his mentor in his head, “Never lose a case and never quit. That's the only way to get out alive and with all your brains in your head.” Seward remembered the old man kindly, the way he smelled of

Ramen noodles and wet rain on the pavement. He was the one who had taught Seward everything he knew from fingerprints to not getting involved with women on the case. Seward wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to banish the constant flood of memories. This is why he had taken the break from being a P.I. All these flashbacks were getting to Detective Seward. The nightmares were back as he felt himself experiencing that night over and over again. The flashbacks weren't the only reason Seward was avoiding detective work. He had another reason. He pulled the pistol out of his coat slowly and brandished it, preparing to uncover the most disgusting of crime scenes. He stood outside the door and prepared to kick down the door. With a sharp crack he kicked down the door and aimed the gun inside the warehouse. “Put your hands on your head and nobody move!” Seward roared at the entire room of panicked Yoga positioned people. “I'm looking for Olivia Silver for the murder of Manuel Silver and the kidnapping of Melissa Vane!” Olivia pulled out of the Downward-facing Dog position calmly and addressed the rest of the class, ”Now class, come in to a wide squat, Bring your palms flat on the floor just under your feet, bend the elbows back as you would in Chaturanga Dandasana, begin to shift your weight back to rest on your upper arms and bring the feet up off the floor, straighten the legs and arms and you will the position known as the Firefly position. Do this and I will go and speak to the interrupting oaf with the gun. Remember your breathing!” Olivia instructed to the class and got up to pull Seward into a small room in the corner of the building. She instantly went into a Child's pose with her knees bent and her head on the floor. ”I hope you don't mind, but I can think a lot better in this position.” Seward shook his head accepting any little bit of madness. Olivia continued, “I would really quite prefer if you put the weapon away to not upset the Children and explain who you are.” ”My name is Detective David Seward. Did you mention children? I didn't see no kids in there.” Seward asked scratching his elbow. ”No, my followers are known as the Children because we're just like one big happy family of innocence and curiosity. We are trying to instill a sense of being really and truly loved like children and being unquestioning about the availability of that love. I feel that that is the path to love and joy in life. Going first back to the womb and becoming born again and then spending the rest of your life as a young child. This is the path to filling yourself with the love of others and accepting the questions of the universe

and always asking 'why?'. Me and my Children follow this way of life and use meditation and chastity to become literal Children.” ”Chastity? Apparently you are nothing like your late brother.” Seward quipped. ”Late? Whatever do you mean? Where is Manuel? Is he already? Has something happened?” Olivia furrowed her brow. ”He was murdered, Olivia. He was killed, chopped in half, and stuffed in the freezer with the popsicles. Now, where were you Thursday night?” Olivia gasped. “Not Manny! Manny was my only brother! We grew up together; went to the playground together and swung on the swings! My baby brother Manny!” ”Cut the innocent act, Olivia. I heard your voicemail to your brother. You wanted him dead for sleeping with your lover.” ”You don't understand. This place, The Children of Love is all about the tenets of becoming a child, including celibacy! You must be celibate and abstain from sex, drugs, alcohol and anything that a five-year-old would have no interest in. You must be pure. So even if I had a relationship with Serena or anyone else, it's completely irrelevant. We must fraternize with the opposite sex other than in a child-like way. However, violence is also against the rules. Children may at times lash out to their parents or whatever but we must not take it any further than a tantrum, if needed. This pure expression of emotions is the only way the 'badness' in life can be expressed.” ”This does not prove that you didn't kill your brother. What's your alibi? Where were you Thursday night?” Seward grilled. He wanted to get to the point and not fool around with petty argument. Olivia looked confused. ”I was... I... Wait! I am innocent. You're not even a real police officer. I know my rights. I will not tell you anything.” ”If you are so assured of your innocence, if you loved your brother so much, than why don't you simply rule yourself out as a suspect and tell me your alibi?” Olivia stood from the Child's pose on the floor. “I believe we are done here, Detective. I would very much appreciate it if you would get the hell out of this sacred space.” CHAPTER SIX

”Sassy little one, ain't she?” Serena growled taking a drag on her cigarette. Seward pretended to be extremely annoyed while actually finding it quite sexy. They sat outside of the coffee shop, Seward questioning Serena once again. ”But why would she deny any of her relationships with you or anyone else?” ”It's this whole cult thing, I'm guessing. It's got her completely brainwashed to believe that anything after the age of six is pure sin and will lead to an unhappy life. Also, the whole 'gay' thing has never come easy for her. The Silver's, my in-laws were hard-core fundamentalist. It actually makes sense that Olivia is trying to move past this sort of religious upbringing by founding her own cult. It's a blessing the Silver's died before their children grew old. They would be outraged if they knew the state of their children now... child. Oh, sorry.” Serena put her hands over her face and made sobbing noises. ”Oh, Serena. I'm so sorry. I forget that this is a tender subject for you.” Seward said uncomfortably patting Serena's back. Serena picked up her head, tears trailing from her eyes. Seward went into his pocket and pulled out a small disposable Kleenex package. “I know that in the movies that the suave detective normally pulls out his own handkerchief for the beautiful woman, but I personally have always felt that that was kind of disgusting, so I keep these. I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you. Honestly, sometimes I forget that people are affected by this kind of thing anymore.” “Are you really so heartless?” Serena inquired taking the tissues from Seward and wiping her eyes. “Have you really forgotten that he was my husband? I loved him! I just can’t stand the thought of living life without him!” She broke down into Detective Seward’s arms as he held her awkwardly. “Then why did you cheat on him? If you really and truly loved him why did you stray?” “He cheated on me first and I wanted him… to care. I wanted him to kill whomever I cheated with… but he didn’t. He took it as a free pass to cheat with whomever he wanted, too! It killed me when he told me about Eric.” “Eric?” “Eric was his first male lover… and I suppose his last. Eric was the first person he ever cheated with. Manuel told me that if he hadn’t married me that he would’ve ran away with Eric. He used this against me many

times in many different fights.” “What made him stay if he hadn’t loved you?” “Oh, it was the inheritance. I tended to threaten him with it fairly often. I told him that if he ever left me I would take every cent he had and I meant it!” “You’re really not helping your case.” Seward mentioned pryingly. “Oh, I’m not getting a cent anyway. He left every cent to Olivia. It was his form of some sort of sick apology for stealing me away from her and I suppose all the other things he did to her.” “This gives her motive!” Seward stood with glee. “I have to go and question her again.” He stood and began to pace around the small coffee shop while concerned yoga mommy’s and barista’s stared. “The inheritance, the phone call, the revenge for a jilted lover. I have to get her away from that cult!” “She’ll never leave it. She created it to escape the world and avoid talking about her brother and especially about me. She refuses to answer my calls. I just can’t deal with her anymore and I can’t believe that she killed Manuel though she has every reason to. Go to her. See if she did it. Clear my name.” CHAPTER SEVEN “Yeah, yeah, clear your name.” Seward murmured to himself his hands on his forehead. He had to get through just this one case. He felt the ghosts creeping up, the visions of the past haunting him every time he turned around. Serena, Manuel, Olivia, and the entire case just reminded him of his very last case. He felt the shocks when talking to Serena, when switching songs on his radio, when waking up in the morning. He could feel the ice-cold water streaming through his bones. He ached for the visions to stop. Fall was soon approaching; he could see the leaves start to change and feel the slight chill in the air. He knew that once this one case would mean the difference between living a normal life and death. He pulled the drawer open again and pulled out the picture and the pistol. He looked at the image of himself staring back at himself. The youth and happiness wasn’t easily concealed underneath the self-assured smirk of a young detective. She was beautiful as always; her blond hair was slightly mussed. The little boy, however, brought tears to Seward’s eyes. He fingered the handgun and felt the cold steel against his fingers. He closed his eyes, blinking away the tears as they fell down his unshaven face. He grabbed the picture and murmured, “I’ll do it for you, Sammy. I’m so

sorry but I can make it better.” He pushed it and the gun back into the drawer. He rose from the chair and grabbed several coffee cups from his cluttered desk and took them to the kitchen. As dusk fell he put on his trench coat and walked out the door of his apartment. He took a taxi to the warehouse trying to form his plan of attack. He could see that now there were two mid-twenty-year-old guards playing jacks right outside the door, guarding the Children of Love door way from anyone who might break in armed with a gun. Seward sighed and hung his head preparing himself. He wondered if he was truly capable of what he planned to do. He pulled out his gun and cocked it. He walked up to the door of the cult. He watched the two twenty-something’s eyes widen in fear staring at the gun and screw up their faces like children and began screaming, “Stranger! Stranger danger! Stranger danger!” “Hey, hey, I’m here for the big show.” Seward announced dropping the gun in the dirt. “I want to be a Child, too.” Seward had to give up his gun, his badge, and all of his clothes. He put on the loose play-clothes that were required. He was given a small comfort object of his choice (he chose a small teddy bear he named Felix) and a small bed in the upstairs quarters. The bedrooms were sorted between men and women to prevent any sort of “dilly-dallying” (as they called it) with the opposite sex. Also, there were patrols of “babysitters” to prevent any other sort of “mischief”. Seward had shaved before and cut his hair to make himself look and feel younger to try and assimilate with the others. He felt like he had entered a mental hospital of his own accord, especially when he witnessed his first tantrum and attended his first naptime. He felt like this was a place for adults who simply couldn’t deal with growing up and was in some sort of backwards, schizophrenic Nevernever land. The only small flaw in his plan, however, was the fact that Olivia didn’t live in the general population. She must have had her own room without having to worry about interaction with the other Children. Seward attempted to seek her out, once even resulting in a fit screaming, “O-liv-i-a! O-liv-i-aaaaah!” Until his face turned blue and he fell asleep. They informed him that he could not see Olivia nor request her until he had gone through the initiation the others had already gone through. He would have to remain in the general population for a whole two weeks until it was approved of him seeing the “Big Kids” from what they were called. He tried to question some of the elders and the ones who had been there the longest but he realized something that he had quite forgotten in the years he had been alive: no one listened to young children, that is

unless they screamed. He was untiring of the screaming and the pounding on the floor that the other children were quite used to at this point. He enjoyed this quite a bit, but more in a theatrical sense. He never thought about staying any longer than what would take to speak to Olivia. The compound was once again close to both outsiders and those who wanted to leave. He, himself, could leave at any time, at least until his initiation. Once a Child was truly an initiated Child they could never leave unless several steps were taken. He worried about these steps and was unsure about what they were but nevertheless did not fear for his life. He knew that many of these Children did not do more than slap or bite and had no real fighting power while Seward had many years of Tai Kwon Do under his belt in which he knew he could protect himself. He simply had to wait. “Wake up!” Seward heard a shrill voice shout in his ear and felt his shoulder being shaken. “Can you hear that noise? That is the noise of you getting your booty up and taking a bath!” “Not a bath…” Seward grumbled and rolled back over and covering himself with the blanket over his head. “Come on! Wake up, Sleepyhead! Tonight is our initiation and we got to get up and get ready, Freddy!” The voice giggled and he heard the sound of bare feet on the wood floor. Seward pulled the blanket gingerly from his eyes and peered out. He could see the sunlight streaming from the small, high up window. He could feel that the day of reckoning was coming and that this was the first step to get there. He pushed his head against the pillow and flexed his feet inside of the footy pajamas. It was all working out. It was happening.

CHAPTER EIGHT Seward arrived at Serena’s house three weeks later. He was bleeding from a large gash in his forehead and was covered from head to toe in sweat. “She didn’t do it.” He gasped collapsing on her front porch. Serena dragged him inside and put him on the couch. When he awakened he had a cold cloth on his forehead and was wearing nothing but a bathrobe and his underwear. “Seward?” Serena whispered pushing his hair from his face. “Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?” “No, no. I’m going to survive, Sweetcheeks, don’t worry about me.” He mumbled tossing and turning a bit as if he was still having a nightmare.

“What happened? Where have you been? I called and called you but I had no idea where you went.” Tears filled Serena’s eyes as she picked up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter to hide her tears. She lit the cigarette and with a shaky sob blew out a mouth full of smoke. “The police came for me. They said that I did it. I… I don’t have very long, David.” “What did you call me?” Seward demanded blurrily still fighting off the nightmares. “Oh, I’m sorry, was that too informal for you? You’ve called me nothing but misogynistic nicknames since I’ve met you and you get offended when I call you by your first name.” “No, no, it’s not that. I just… you’ve never called me that before.” “Well…” Serena looked down ashamedly and played with her cigarette. “I missed you.” Seward bewilderedly put his hand on Serena’s. “I’m sorry I left you without telling you where I was going. I was just sure that you would try to convince me not to go. That you would tell me it was too dangerous.” “Well, obviously I would’ve been right, now wouldn’t I have been? You have bruises all over your body and you’re sickly thin. Tell me, Seward. What happened?” “I got there and it wasn’t so bad. We were just a bunch of adults pretending that they were kids, you know? It was that… initiation.” He shivered. “That’s when the whole thing took a turn for the worst. We stood there in the yoga rows we normally stood in, at around seven in the evening. Our bedtime was eight p.m. so I suppose they wanted us to be ready early. We were dressed in our yoga clothes and we were eagerly awaiting the initiation. I felt as if I was more overexcited than any of the others. Once I got through the initiation I could talk to Olivia and no one could stop me. I could grill her until she would admit what she did to your husband and your lover. I was so convinced. I… never thought… It was horrible.” “Finish. Tell it all. Tell me what they did.” Serena intoned entranced. “They were horrible. First, they beat us. They used belts and paddles and told us we were naughty children. I fought back. I wouldn’t let them beat me like the others did. Some even enjoyed it. I was scared that they would kill me so I fought back. Then… they put me in the closet. Oh, god. They… they left me in there! They left me in there for a week! No food, just a little water and they sent in one of the “Big Kids” to beat

me every day! I tried to stop them but it was too hard. I was so weak and I realized that the majority of the time that I was in there they were drugging me through the juice and water. That’s how they do it. That’s how those people are always so docile and peaceful: they’re drugged! Your ex-sister-in-law is sick. She’s drunk with the power she has over those people. I knew I had to stop them somehow. I had to. I had to do it.” “Seward, what are you talking about? What did you do?” Seward looked up, wide-eyed at Serena. “I had to stop it, don’t you get it? I got the matches and the lighter fluid from the barbecue area and I burned that hellhole down.” Serena stopped and looked agape at Seward. She didn’t believe him; she didn’t believe he was capable of that kind of thing. She stared in his eyes and realized it was true, that the intensity in his eyes was too strong. “But I don’t get it! How do you know that Olivia didn’t kill my husband? Shouldn’t this prove that she’s even more capable of it?” “I heard. When they let me out of the closet, they still kept a close watch over me to make sure I didn’t run or hurt anyone and one night the “babysitter” watching me had a visitor. I was falling asleep and I heard a woman’s voice say, ‘Olivia! You scared me! I’m just watching Baby Seward, here. His commencement did not go too well, I’m sure you heard. He’s still recovering from the beatings. I swear those boys took it way too far with him!’ Then, I heard Olivia answering, ‘Spare the rod, beat the child’ and I tried to get up, either to talk or to beat, I’m not sure but I couldn’t move. They were putting more and more drugs in my food and I was so sore I couldn’t move. Again, I heard Olivia, ‘Tympani, have you thought about what I discussed?’ I heard the guard, the one named Tympani murmur, ‘It’s against the rules, O. I’m sorry. We just shouldn’t.’ ‘That’s not the question, T. Do you want to? If we weren’t here, would you?’ I didn’t hear a response until I heard Olivia again, ‘Oh, come on, T. Kids do it all the time! Come on. Come play with me.’ I expected Tympani to go with her and plotted my chance to escape until I heard Tympani exclaim, ‘No! I know what you’ve been doing with Sam and Johnny. You play with them every night in your playroom. I don’t want to be your playmate, O.’ Then I heard some harsh whispering and Tympani cry out in pain. I listened closely and could hear Tympani again, ‘No. I heard about what Baby David said about you! You’re wanted for murder! How could you do that? Your own little brother and you killed him? I can’t believe you, O.’ I heard gentle crying and could tell it was Olivia. ‘I didn’t, T. You know where I was that night. I was with you. Last month,

the last Thursday of the month? ‘Member? It was me and you in the playroom. How could I tell them that? They wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t understand!’ I could tell that she pointed at me. ‘He wouldn’t understand our childish games.’ I could hear Tympani agreeing quietly and then some strange muffled noise and then footsteps leading away. I know that Olivia didn’t kill your husband or kidnap your lover. Olivia is a deranged sick person, but she’s not a killer. Not yet. That’s why I burnt down the cult, to save Olivia’s soul. She's not a killer, Serena, she's a lesbian.” Serena put her hands over her face. “Oh, my God, poor O. She created this whole entire cult just to escape the shame and she still can't escape it. I don't understand her. She has nothing to be ashamed about! I don't understand how anyone could be as self-loathing as Olivia. She has tried to hard her entire life to be straight or to be celibate and she just can't! I should know: we dated for months and she hated herself the entire time. That's why I moved on to Manuel; at least he had some confidence in himself. Olivia... she needs to find her way on her own terms. She's a Silver, through and through. She needs to understand that!” ”Well, there goes my lead. I don't even have any idea at all who to go to next!” ”I do.” Serena said innocently fluttering her eyelashes. ”Oh God, I swear, if it's another one of your many lovers, I give up!” ”No, no. Remember how I told you that the Silvers, my in-laws, were dead? Well, I kind of lied... Mike Silver is still alive, Manuel and Olivia's father. He is completely homophobic and disowned both Olivia and Manuel when they were still teenagers. He's the reason that Olivia started that cult and that Manuel went so crazy. They told me that he was dead, but once when Manuel got really drunk he told me the truth: his dad is living in an old age home called Grand Meadows Assisted Living. I here he's still causing hell. Be careful, Seward. I worry about you.” Serena helped Seward off the couch and put a butterfly bandage on the gash on his head. ”I worry about you, Serena. Keep yourself out of trouble. Hide out, for now, until I can clear your name. Don't let the cops get to you.” Serena clung to Seward. “Oh, Seward. I'm so scared to go out into the big, scary word all by myself!” Seward frowned, “Really? Are you going to be okay?” Serena gave him the look that the beautiful woman often gives to

the handsome Private Investigator right before they kiss and she backed up gently. “Oh, Seward.” She gushed and pulled back and socked Seward in the arm. “Ouch! That hurt! What was that for?” Serena smiled a serpentine smile and pulled out her cigarette case, “Oh, Detective Seward, have you forgotten? I'm a feminist. I don't give into all that mushy 'I'm a woman all by myself, I need a big, strong man to take care of me' bullshit. I can deal with the cops or whomever on my own. I'm glad that you're okay, but I need your help for strictly political reasons. I couldn't clear my own name while I'm under suspicion, now can I?” Seward hung his head. “I feel so used, now.” He answered with a gentle smirk. “So, what you’re saying is that you don’t even need a detective?” “No, no. Not at all! I’m just saying that you make the process a helluva lot faster. I had some ideas of how to get Melissa back and figure out who killed Manuel, but the actual process of going through and finding the truth? It all just seems a little much. There’s something you have to understand about me, Detective. I am a very wealthy woman and there’s something that you must understand about very wealthy women, they hardly ever do anything for themselves. I, myself, like to call myself an ‘enlightened’ woman who uses her feminist ideals in her every day life to keep herself from becoming one of “those women” who simply wait on a man to give her a life. I am independent and emancipated from the masculine holds of everyday being a housewife. You don’t understand how difficult it gets sometimes. He comes home from work and expects there to be dinner on the table? Fine, as long as he doesn’t expect me to put it there. If he seriously thought that I was that kind of woman, he should have married Eric, that’s for sure. Eric was… homely, I suppose you could call it. Eric cooked, Eric cleaned, Eric ironed Manuel’s freaking underwear for God’s sakes. I always wondered what Manuel saw in Eric, but I guess the real question is what Manuel saw in me. He always was the Mama’s boy, especially after his mother passed so tragically. She had cancer, you know. She had cancer from smoking.” For emphasis Serena took a long drag from her cigarette and blew it into Seward’s face. “I bet I would have liked the old broad. The stories both Olivia and Manuel told about her! She was wild in her younger years; she was always going out on Mike. I don’t blame her; Mike was not exactly the nurturing type. I can’t believe he brainwashed his children so well, though. Manuel, I can

understand his need to chase every skirt (and otherwise) that walked across his path, but Olivia? Denying her identity and then founding her own cult? Now that’s going a little far.” Serena blew out another mouth full of smoke and shook her head. “Yeah, I’d check out Old Mikey Silver. He always did hate those kids and I’m pretty sure that’s where Olivia got her “spare the rod, beat the child” nonsense.” “You think they were abused?” “Mentally? Definitely. Physically? Only an insane woman and a dead man would know. That and a very old man in an old age home.” “Fine, I’ll have to have a talk with him about the past, now won’t I?” Seward walked to the door and pulled on his hat. “I’ll see you later, Serena. You take care of yourself, babe, eh? Don’t let the coppers get to you.” Serena smiled and pushed her chest out and wrapped her arms around Seward. “You be careful, too, ‘kay? Don’t get hurt, or I’m seriously in the soup, got it?” “You got it, Babycakes.” Seward winked at Serena and tipped his hat, He could see from the outside of the house that the fog was starting to grow. He began to walk into the abyss until he heard Serena’s voice. “Hey, Seward? One question: what the hell happened to your office?”

CHAPTER NINE Seward went to his office to get another gun and the things necessary to question Michael Silver. He put his hands in his pocket and noticed the lack of detritus in his pockets. He sighed gently. He pulled his keys out his pocket as he approached the door marked with his name. Embossed into the door were letters spelling out DETECTIVE DAVID I. SEWARD and directly underneath it: PI. Strangely enough, however, there were several small yellow sticky notes on the door also. He took a closer look and could see that they were from Serena. “SEWARD, CALL ME ASAP, SERENA”, said one. Another read, “Seward, I’m worried. Call me if you’re dropping the case. -S” and yet another one read, “Seward, what happened? Where are you? CALL ME!!!! P.S. Sorry about your doorknob. I’ll pay for it.” Seward furrowed his brow and went to open his door and found it unlocked. He put the key into it to try and lock it from the outside and found that it was broken. He looked around the

area of the doorknob and found a stray bobby pin lying on the ground. He sighed and went into his office. He was instantly affronted with the smell of Febreze and baking soda and could see his reflection in the clean desk. Seward sank into the large, comfortable chair in front of his desk and sighed again. He could feel the cleanliness invading his soul and wondered why it felt so foreign. He had kept the office clean before his last case, but the last case made him lose purpose. He had let cleanliness fall by the wayside in so many aspects of his life. He now quit smoking the pipe and tried to keep up with his own person hygiene. He bought cleaning products, deodorant, Nicorette, the whole nine yards. He once heard someone say that your life will change when you change. He was hoping that by pretending to change that the principle still applied. He could feel the need to tidy up, to tidy himself up, too. Maybe it was a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder, or maybe he was just going nuts, but he needed to control something somehow. He needed to solve this case. He pulled out his files and his laptop, setting them carefully and attractively on the table. He logged onto the laptop and began searching for background on Michael Silver. He found the marriage license to Deirdre Grenada (who later became Deirdre Silver) and the birth certificates of the Silver children, Manuel and Olivia. He also found the intake papers to Grand Meadows Assisted Living. There was one file, though, that intrigued Seward. There was a police charge against Michael Silver for domestic violence around two months before Deirdre Silver died. Serena had mentioned that Deirdre had died from cancer from smoking, most likely lung cancer, but what if that hadn’t been the case? What if Old Mikey Silver had found out about his son’s homosexual relationship(s) and killed him as a sort of revenge? That was enough motive for Seward. Seward rose from his chair and grabbed his coat and headed to Grand Meadows. “I did not murder my wife or my child!” Michael Seward roared standing from his wheelchair. “I don’t understand why you’re snooping into my business but I suggest you back off!” Seward laughed gently. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it? You gonna get a bunch of your Grand Meadows buddies and beat me up? Fat chance. Half the people in here are bed-ridden and the other half don’t even remember their own names! You of all people are confined to that wheelchair, accept when you feel like being overdramatic and getting up, like you did just now. Now, how can you prove that you didn’t murder in cold blood your own flesh and blood son Manuel Silver? How can you

prove that?” “What you just said, Detective. I’m confined to this wheelchair. I’m dying, sir. Do you really think I could brutally murder anyone is this state? Do I look like someone who could—” Michael’s voice broke. He hid his face in his hands and began to sob roughly. He looked up. “You think find out like this? Find out that my one and only son is dead, like this?” Michael was crying openly, tears streaking down his wrinkled face. “I loved my son. I may have made a mistake in disowning him, but what was I expected to do? I’m a good God-fearing man, Detective. When I found out my son was a… a…” He grimaced heavily and cleared his throat. “A homosexual, what was I supposed to do? I denied it for a while, then, I tried to ignore it. But then Olivia ‘came out’ to me and I could only guess that Manuel did it to her. He infected her with it! I tried to keep up with them after they left.” “Left? You kicked them out, Mr. Silver. What were supposed to do? Say they were sorry and weren’t going to be who they were anymore?” “It wasn’t who they were! Manny got married to a beautiful woman! He could change! He did change!” “He never changed, Mikey. He was still just as screwed up as ever. He was having affairs with men and making his wife miserable. Serena, your son’s wife, had to keep up with the affairs of your son and was accused of his murder. You don’t understand what she has gone through.” “I- I had no choice. After my wife passed, after my children were gone…” Michael Silver looked up at the ceiling. “I didn’t know what to do anymore. I… followed them for a while, kept up with what they were doing. I saw Olivia grow into a beautiful young woman, though she still seems… damaged in some way. I know about that… church that she has started.” “It’s not a church, Mr. Silver, it’s a cult. It’s called the Children of Love and it’s sick. They are abusive and horrible and it is all from the way you treated your daughter in her youth.” Michael Silver put hit hands over his face and sighed. He ran his hands through his hair and stretched his neck. “That’s the way, isn’t it? To always blame the father. I didn’t abuse Olivia, or Manuel! The worst I did was making them leave. I regret that every day of my life; I think about Manuel and his wife or Olivia and the children she could have and I realize I’ll never meet my grandchildren. It was… oh, god, it was Deirdre. She beat them, screamed at them. I’ll never forgive myself for letting her

do that to them. How was I supposed to stop her? She was just a woman! I- I only once interfered. She was just… hitting them so much that I feared for both of us, all of us! I feared for my children’s lives and Deirdre and my eternal salvation. I grabbed her to stop her and… she began to beat me. I tried to hold her off, but she was too strong and I was afraid to hurt her. She was on top of me and she just kept hitting me… I lost myself and… I hit her, okay? That was the domestic violence charge you claimed to have found on my record. I swung at her blindly and ended up giving her a black eye. I’m not proud of myself, but at least I stopped her. I couldn’t stand to just stand and watch. After that, she never hurt our children again. At least, not physically. She began to stray and have multiple affairs. She flaunted this, not only to me but around town. My children were prone to the shame and I know that they were known as children of the town whore. I knew this didn’t go down well, especially since Olivia began withdrawing from everything, from friends, from school, everything but boys… and eventually girls. I didn’t know how to handle it. Nothing ever really goes as planned, now does it? When me and Deirdre got married and had kids I expected to live a good life. I didn’t want my kids to be hurt, you know? I just wanted to do right. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and I have my regrets, just like everyone else. I just tried to do right.” Michael sat down in his chair. “Now, if you have anymore questions for me, I’ll be here, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to sleep.” He began to roll into his room. He remembered something and turned around in a soft circle. “Just… find them, Detective. Find the person who killed my son.” And he exited. One after the other, after the other. The leads stacked up and were shot down. Seward had his head down on his desk and pounded it into the desk again and again. He glared at the phone. “This is all your fault.” He snarled at it. “You got me into this, now you get me out. Give me a lead.” He stared bullets into the phone begging it once again to ring. He considered briefly calling Serena. Serena had given him the last two major leads, but did he really expect her to solve the entire case for him? He didn’t think so. “I can do this.” He said standing up and grabbing his coat. He put the gun in his pocket and began to head out the door. He grabbed the doorknob and turned around realizing he had no place to go. He tried to go over Michael Seward’s rant to try and pull something important out of that. He would have considered Deirdre as a suspect if he hadn’t known she lay in the grave, dead from lung cancer years earlier. He tried to search his brain through the abuse and the abandonment of Olivia and Manuel

Silver, but could think of nothing. He couldn’t help but remember Melissa Vane who was still missing and possibly dead. He pulled his noted out of the desk drawer and rifled through the notes until he found Melissa’s address. He also noticed that she lived with a female roommate. Maybe that was it. Maybe Melissa was having a relationship with her roommate and the roommate had discovered Serena. Maybe the roommate stalked out the Silver home waiting for Serena to come home and pounced upon Manuel instead. Maybe then the simple discussion about Serena and Melissa had turned sour and the roommate turned violent. Maybe it started out as self-defense and the roommate lost control. She killed Manuel and continued to mutilate his body. Then, terrified for her life hid him in the Silver’s freezer to frame Serena. But still… why didn’t the roommate continue to go after Serena? Had the killing of Manuel really satisfied her bloodlust and need for revenge? Had she felt that she had gone to far and was hiding out in the room she had once shared with Melissa? Was Melissa still alive and kept somewhere being tortured? There was only one way to know. Seward grabbed his coat and headed for the apartment. The sky was overcast and dreary as Seward headed out into the streets. He arrived at the fifth story walk-up breathless and winded. He decided to take the cool approach and simply knock this time. He put on a slightly friendly but professional smile and knocked. He could hear a distinct mumbling and could hear feet walking towards the door. He braced himself and fingered the gun in his pocket making sure it was close at hand just in case. He saw a shadow pass underneath the door and at the peephole. “Yeah, who is it?” He heard a bored female voice purr. “Um, I’m Detective David Seward and I’m looking for Melissa Vane’s roommate? I’m not sure the name.” Seward fumbled. He could feel the hairs stand up on the back of his neck for no reason at all and feel sweat begin to form on his upper lip. “Yeah? What do you want with her?” He could tell the voice had smoked too many cigarettes or perhaps sung too much karaoke from the gravelly, throaty tendencies of her voice. He could also hear some sort of heavy metal music in the background laced with the sound of screaming. “Is something going on in there? Is everyone all right? Can you open the door so we can discuss this?” He stood on his toes to try and see inside. He felt so vulnerable just standing talking to a door. He heard a rough sigh and heard the locks turning on the door. The door opened about an inch though the chain was still locked. Seward could just make out a

feminine eye covered with smeared eyeliner and eye shadow look out. He could see that the person speaking had a pierced eyebrow and lip though the lip piercing was harder to see due to the lipstick covering her lips. “Nothing’s going on. I’m just listening to some music. Melissa Vane, eh? What’d she do this time?” Her growling voice seemed to match her outward appearance. She seemed like a punk kid who probably hated the world and made that fact clear to people. “Music? You call that music?” Seward sniped. “Um… yeah, apparently. I mean, I am listening to it. It’s called screamo and it’s gaining in popularity. Ever heard of Underoath?” “Are they devil-worshipping Satanists who scream ‘Worship Satan’ in all their songs, specifically if you play it backwards?” The girl laughed. “Ha ha, not exactly. Now, what’s the deal with Melissa? Is she wanted for drugs? She does do that sometimes.” “Um… no, actually she’s missing. Her lover Serena Silver reported her missing after Manuel Silver, Serena’s husband was killed. We think that the person who killed Manuel also kidnapped Melissa.” “Oh, that sucks. I haven’t Melissa. She was annoying and took off. I haven’t seen her. Can I help you?” “Umm… I was just wondering if you had seen Melissa or knew anything about her disappearance.” “No, not really. She left one night to go out and didn’t say where she was going or anything and just left. She hasn’t called or anything, so I’m really clueless. We were cool and stuff, I guess, but I don’t know what to say about her private life. I was actually just wondering if I could help with your case, kind of like a sidekick or some shit like that. Would that be okay? I would try not to get in the way and if something was not appropriate for me to be there I could probably bounce, but could I?” This caught Seward completely off-guard. He had always assumed that he was kind of a lone wolf character, but here he was on one of the most difficult cases of his life and the first case he was jumping into after the last case had gone horribly wrong. He needed to keep out of his own mind for his own good and maybe this girl could help with that. He could also see that she was kind of unprofessional and could be possibly harmful to this case. “I don’t even know your name or what you look like. How could I possibly let you be my assistant?” He saw that she was thinking. “Fine.” She murmured and slammed the door. He was puzzled and began to walk away slowly. He wondered what had brought upon that strange occurrence. All of a sudden he heard the door open again. He

turned and could see the girl standing outside the door. He could see that she was a natural redhead, though the lilac streaks through it needed to be redone. Her hair was long and wavy and was pulled back into a loose ponytail. He could see her tank top was stained with paint and her arms were as well. Her jeans were ripped at the knees to reveal fishnet stockings underneath. Lavender Converse were on her feet in a similar shade to her hair. Her hand was on her waist and she wore a smirk. “My name’s Ginger. Ginger Bailey. Is that good enough? Honestly, I just need something to do. I’m going out of my mind with boredom and can’t think of anything to paint. I figure if I help you, I can get some inspiration, you know?” Ginger walked up to Seward and looked him straight in the eye. “How far are you? In the case, I mean. Do you have any leads? Apparently not, if you’re coming to me.” She grinned. “I can help. I kind of have a sixth sense about things, you know. I can tell when people are lying and stuff. It’s crazy, I know, but I can. I’m not saying I’m psychic or anything or even have premonitions, at least on demand, but I get these feelings about people. I get feelings from you, too. I can tell you’ve gone through a lot in your life and that you really need to figure out this case. I can tell it means a lot to you, more than just money or a job. That’s why you’re still here. You’re hoping I’ll reveal something or that I can help. I can hear in your voice that you want someone to help and that you really like Serena as more than just a client.” Seward began to shake his head. “Oh, you’re secret’s safe with me. You don’t even need to deny it. I know how easy it is to love Serena. I watched she and Melissa go on and even I fell in love with Serena. I’d like to help her. To make feel safe again and to make the police get off her back.” “How did you know that the police were going after Serena?” Seward asked curiously. “How could they not? Married to a murder victim and having ‘intimate relations’ with a disappeared girl? I’m surprised you’re the first person who’s come questioning me. I have been kind of hiding out, though.” “From the cops?” “Oh, no. Just the outside world. I’ve been trying to create for months, now. I’ve been trying to paint something worth a damn or write a song with a melody. No one gets how hard it is to hole oneself up into a house and create when there’s no inspiration around. That’s why I need you. You can help me; I can help you. It’s a win-win situation!” Seward shook his head. “I just don’t think it’s a good—”

“What do you have to lose?!” Ginger screamed grabbing Seward’s shoulders. She stared him down. “Tell me, what, if anything, so you have to lose? If things go bad, I’ll bail, I promise! I can help.” CHAPTER TEN That is how Seward got a sidekick. He needed to get out of his head or it would kill him. He could feel the walls closing on him every time a lead went bad and maybe allowing this strange girl to help him would get him out of his own head. He told her the sidekick place was simply on a trial basis but he could tell it made her way too happy. “Okay, so Serena Silver has been cleared? Are we sure? Are we completely sure that she didn’t kill Manuel? I could totally see her doing it just to get out of an unhealthy relationship. Maybe she was sick of all the cheating and maybe Manuel was taking after his mother and became abusive and Serena just snapped. Why do you trust her so much?” Ginger was leaned over Seward’s clean desk popping her gum. “Is it because she’s hot? Because I swear if one more ‘poor, helpless, big-boobed victim’ murdered her husband, I swear I’ll scream.” Ginger threatened. She glared at Seward. “Were you looking in her eyes or at her chest when you questioned her?” “Hey!” Seward objected standing and leaning on his desk. “Why does everyone assume that because I’m a detective that I’m some raging misogynist? I believe that women have every right that men have! There! Are you happy? I think that Serena is innocent because I talked to her and because she hired me to find Manuel’s killer. And why are you forgetting about Melissa? She was your roommate. How do I know that you didn’t do it?” “I don’t know. How do you? You know, except for the fact that I’m helping you solve the freaking case!” Ginger sunk further into her chair and took a drink of the latte she had on the desk. “This quibbling is getting us nowhere, you know.” She looked reproachfully at Seward. “We need a lead. I say we go back to the crime scene, where Manuel was killed.” ”It’s already been cleaned up. There won’t be anything left to find.” “Then, we’ll just inspect where Serena lives.” Ginger stood and grabbed her leather jacket off the chair, backpack off the floor where she had first walked in, and went to leave. “You wanted to clear her name anyway, right?”

“Yeah, sure. Why? What else what I want to do? Fine. Let's go to Serena's house.” Seward grumbled and grabbed his coat following Ginger.

CHAPTER ELEVEN Seward knocked on the door of the Silver’s house, calling for Serena. “Wait? Isn’t she in hiding? Why would she be here?” Ginger said aloofly. “No, I was just wondering. I didn’t want to go barging in if I knew she was home.” He took the spare key from his pocket and began to unlock the front door. “Why? Do you not want to see Serena for some reason?” “Yeah, ‘cause she seems like a major diva and I’d rather not deal with that kind of thing, especially since you seem so interested in dealing with her, if you know what I mean.” ”I don't know that I have any idea what you're talking about.” Seward retorted. “She's both the one who formed the complaint and one of the main suspects. Of course I have interest in her. If you mean a relationship in a sort of man/woman, romantic way, then no. I am a professional, Ms. Bailey. I don't consort with the opposite sex in that way anyway.” “Are you gay?” Seward was taken completely aback. He stuttered and fluttered for his phone in his pocket. “I don't know what you're talking about! I'm very straight. You know, I like women. I mean, I'm not against, you know, the g-g-g-gays, or you know, homosexual people of any personage or whatever.” Seward blushed scarlet. Ginger giggled. “I was just wondering; you don't have to take it so seriously. I'm not completely straight, if you must know.” “Well, I suppose that makes sense.” Seward deduced. “You were roommates with Melissa. Did you two have a relationship?” Ginger began laughing heartily and put her hands on her knees. “What's so funny?” Seward questioned confused. “Me… and Melissa?” Ginger fell down in hilarity. “Oh, no. That never happened. I told you before; I thought she was super annoying. I guess we were too… similar, in the most annoying of ways. She was hot,

but kind of a slut, you know? She was going out with everyone male or female from here to Wichita. I couldn't keep up with who was her 'recent' and who was yesterday's news. She went through them like tissues and a bloody nose. Even if I had wanted to hit that, I know that it would have just ended really badly. I… I really feel for her. Her main girlfriend's married, you know? Isn't that just the lowest of the low? Going out with a married woman? You almost can't blame her, though. She had a difficult childhood.” “Oh, please!” Seward scoffed. “Everyone has had a difficult childhood. That's no excuse for anyone's mistakes in later life! I can't stand when people use that excuse for everything! I've found in my life that if a person works hard enough and does the right thing they can overcome almost everything. If her life was so bad, she should have changed it. Settled down with someone or at least tried monogamy or something! Tried to stay away from the married women and men and maybe take off somewhere she could start new.” Ginger looked up at Seward. “Maybe that's what she did.” “Why didn't she tell you, though? You're her roommate. She could have at least told you that she wasn't going to pay the last end of the rent.” “I told you, we didn't talk much. I guess I didn't really know her as much as I'd like to have thought I did. I just saw her lovers come in and out of our apartment and wanted her to change.” Ginger sighed. “I suppose I wanted to love her, wanted to change her. I was living a fantasy as much as she was. She just couldn't change enough for me and then she was just gone.” “Do you miss her?” Seward asked forgetting himself. Ginger looked Seward in the eye. “No. I don't. I just wished she could have changed and stayed here. I don't miss the waiting and wishing for her to change.” “That's one of the reasons you wanted to help me, isn't it? To give yourself time to forget her and move on?” “Not exactly. I can't exactly forget her when we’re discussing her constantly, now can I? No, it's more for closure. I want to make her ghosts go away. I want to quit seeing her everywhere and going up to strangers and wondering if they are her. I really hate that.” “Well, I'll do my best to see that you can. You know what? You remind me a bit of Serena. You're both these strong women who've gotten into these questionable situations and I'm trying to help.” Ginger frowned. “I don't think so. The difference between me and

Serena is that I'm straightforward. I don't use my 'feminine wiles' or sexuality or any of that crap. I can't stand when people are upfront about what they want.” Ginger sneered. “Like, I bet you think that she likes you as a person. That she flirts with you because she actually likes you. Men! And she calls herself a feminist! It's not feminism when you use your boobs to get your way! She's such a hypocrite! I'm telling you straight, that I want to help you to get out of my own head and to inspire my art and writing. I'm not under some sort of ruse that I just want to 'clear my name' or want to 'know who killed my husband'. It's so fake!” “Wait, what do you mean? Do you think that she has ulterior motives?” “Um, yeah! Okay, here's my theory. You should sit down.” She sat on the stoop of Seward's house and sat cross-legged. Seward sat stiffly. “She's blood-thirsty. So, if she did kill her husband, she's just looking for you to excuse her of her guilt by saying someone else did it or that the police arrest someone besides her. If she didn't kill Manuel, which I'm still not convinced of, then she's looking to kill the person who did!” “And Melissa? You think it was a coincidence that she went missing right after Manuel Silver was killed?” “Yes. Yes, I do.” Ginger nodded, stubbornly. “I think that Melissa's disappearance has little to do with anything. I told you that she probably left to start a life on her own, away from all the drama.” “I think that no matter what Melissa does that she won't be able to get away from the drama. I would pray that she would be smart enough to realize that. People like Melissa have a hard time moving away from these drama-filled lives, because it's what they crave. They crave drama and feed on it like animals. She'll never change.” Ginger frowned. “I don't believe that. I believe that people can change. That if she truly wants to get away from all the drama that she will. I don't believe that people are static. Wouldn't that just make life kind of pointless? Isn't that the whole point is to strive for perfection? To try and search for change in productive ways?” Ginger shook her head. “Maybe I'm philosophically, psychologically waxing poetic a little too much here, but I think that it's all about human nature! From what I've seen and heard, Serena is a predator. She's too… primal. She doesn't follow any sort of social norms, which you know I'm not all for, but she completely disregards them in a way that the next step would be murder. I think she did it. Maybe Melissa saw this too. This would make sense. That's why she broke it off with Serena and took off.”

“Wait, but Melissa didn't break it off with Serena. She just disappeared. Why not tell Serena that she didn't ever want to see her again?” “She was afraid. Serena is dangerous and maybe Melissa was afraid that Serena would hurt her if she found out that Melissa was interested in ending the affair.” “You told me that you didn’t know Melissa very well and now you act as if you knew every nuance of her thoughts. What's the truth here?” “I told you, I get feelings for people easily. I lived with Melissa for a pretty long time. I got the feeling of the kind of person she was. I almost wish I hadn't. I loved her because I knew she was, quickly. She was smart and I believe she was smart enough to get out of what she judged as a dangerous situation. If not… I almost shudder to think.” CHAPTER TWELVE They entered the Silver home and once again Seward was affronted with the smell of bleach and air freshener. Ginger walked in, easily walking into the living room and dropping her backpack on the floor by the front door as if she owned the place. “These pictures are sick.” She remarked, picking up a silver picture frame off the mantel. She made gagging noises as the pointed at the family pictures of Manuel and Serena. “You can totally tell they're too posed.” She sneered and put the pictures down. “It's so sick that she keeps these out even with Manuel's spirit or whatever still here.” She looked around and began her search for clues. She pulled up the couch cushions, looked under tables, and in every drawer. She seemed to be collecting something but Seward couldn't tell what. She moved fast, pulling out drawers and spreading the detritus everywhere and not putting anything back. The once immaculate home began looking like a wreck before too long. “I hope you know that we have to clean up before we leave.” Seward chided. Ginger just rolled her eyes and continued. “So where did you find the body?” She asked still holding something in her hands. “Serena claims she found it severed in half in the freezer. So, I'm guessing that means the kitchen. Shall we?” Ginger jumped off her spot on the couch and ran to the kitchen. Seward continued behind slowly. Ginger opened the freezer, a large deep

freezer and could see that it was now completely empty. “Darn.” She mumbled under her breath. As Seward walked into the kitchen Ginger asked, “Was Manuel already buried?” “Yes, Manuel was buried even before Serena came to me with the case.” “Well, that's convenient.” Ginger rolled her eyes. “She didn't want to seem like she was jumping the gun and hiring a detective before she even buried her husband. She was in grief.” “Yeah, sure. She was the poor little grieving widow. 'Oh, poor me! My husband is dead and my lover is missing!'“ “You know what?” Seward said angrily shutting the freezer, just missing Ginger's fingers. “I'm sick of you insulting her! She's the client and you need to have a little damned respect! Why are you so sure she did it? Because you have some sort of 'feelings'? That's bull! Is it because she's more beautiful than you? Is it because she forced out Melissa? I know that she was upset because I talked to her! She was truly worried and wants this case to be solved. She has things going on that you don't even know!” Ginger glared at Seward. “Like what? Is it 'her time of the month'? What's the matter with her that she's so damned wounded?” “She's pregnant, Ginger. She's pregnant and her husband is dead and she has no one to help her raise her child.” “I don't believe a word of it. She's a compulsive liar, Seward. Don't you get it? She'll say anything to get attention or sympathy, especially from men. She's using you!” “Fine, you don't believe her? We are in her home. Let's go look.” He went to stomp up the stairs. Ginger followed behind sulkily. They entered the Silver bedroom which was strangely clean and pristine, like the rest of the house. Ginger began doing her demolition-derby-version of searching for clues. She pulled the blankets and sheets off of the bed and pulled out drawers of stockings and lingerie. Ginger sneered holding up a leather corset. “Yeah, this looks motherly.” Seward went into the pristine bathroom and began to search the medicine cabinet. There, he found the smoking gun. “Does this prove pregnancy, Ginger?” He smirked and held up the half-empty bottle of prenatal vitamins. At that Ginger frowned and hit the floor.

Ginger awoke to the smell of smoke. She sat up hastily and primed herself to run. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Seward said coming into the living room with oven mitts on. “Lay down. You don’t want to kill yourself, do you?” He said easing her back to lying down. “What happened?” Ginger said groggily. Her head felt foggy and she could feel a large bandage on the back of her cranium. She felt underneath and could feel the sticky blood and a large lump from falling on the linoleum. “Ouch.” She murmured laying her head gingerly on the pillow. “I told you that you could get hurt.” Seward mumbled absently. Then turning back to Ginger, “Sorry, I just went off somewhere. You fainted… or passed out or something. I’m making some food, right now, just in case that is what caused it. What happened? I told you that Serena was pregnant and you just hit the ground. Did that shock you, that she was telling the truth?” “It wasn’t that. I just—I get really grossed out around pregnancy. It made me a little woozy. I’ve never really passed out like that, though.” Ginger put her hands on her head. “Am I okay? Should I go to the emergency room or something like that?” “No, I don’t detect any sign of a concussion, but you should rest a bit more. No more crime solving for you today.” Seward slunk back into the kitchen. Ginger rose from the couch carefully and started to make her way for the kitchen. When she got into the kitchen she could see Seward bending into the oven and pulling out some sort of casserole dish. “Wow, how domestic of you.” Ginger remarked. “What is that? Something you learned to make in home ec? What’s in it” She peered over the casserole dish and could see that inside there was a green bean casserole. “I’m not really sure what this is. I kind of found out on the front porch. I figure the neighbors are trying to help out in times of grief.” He shrugged. “There was a bunch in the refrigerator, too.” He handed a heaping plate to Ginger. “Um, this looks kind of gross.” Ginger said pulling a fork out of the sloppy mess. “I don’t trust it either. For all we know, the neighbors killed Manuel and are trying to kill Serena, too, by giving her this poisoned disgusting slop.” Seward merely shrugged again and ate a forkful of the mess. “It’s not bad.” He said, his mouth full of the casserole. “You can look in the

cabinets and refrigerator for something better, but you really should eat.” Ginger sighed and rolled her eyes opening the cabinets and looking around. She pulled out a large package of Saltines, sat on the counter, and began to eat them. “Did you find anything? Any clues?” She said snacking on a cracker delicately. “Nothing new. What did you find? I saw you collecting something when we were looking? What was it?” Ginger moaned and stuck a cracker in her mouth. She chewed angrily and swallowed. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” She mumbled going into her pocket. She pulled out several colorful cardboard, rectangular objects and hopped off the counter. “Want me to buy you a drink?” She walked out of the kitchen leaving a puzzled Seward holding his plate of mush. She grabbed her leather jacket off the back of the couch and looked out the window. She could see the sun was beginning to set. She grabbed her backpack on the floor next to the door where she had left it. She walked back into the kitchen. “Aren’t you coming?” She said to the baffled Seward. Seward got up and put his plate in the sink following Ginger. “Wait! We need to clean up!” Seward said throwing on his overcoat. “God, you’re anal! Have you always been this anal?” Ginger said throwing open the front door and walking down the steps. “No, this is new.” He grumbled locking the door. “Well, you should go back to how you were because this is kind of annoying. Taxi!” She shouted raising her hand. “We’ll go back later, maybe.” She disregarded the panicked look in Seward’s eyes. “Maybe? But what if Serena comes home?” “Then she can clean up. She’s good at cleaning up messes, now isn’t she? TAXI!” “God! Be it hell or high water I’m going to come back before the night is over.” Serena grinned a Cheshire smile. “Really? I thought you weren’t interested in Serena that way?” Seward blushed. “I told you, I don’t assort with clients, not that way! I’m just going back to clean up.” “Sure you are. Of course you are. TAXI!!!” She screamed and waved her arms. A taxi stopped and Seward and Ginger got in and Ginger told him the name of some nightclub. “You have cash, right?” “I thought you said that you were going to buy me a drink?” “I am. I just don’t have money for the cab. Spot me a twenty?”

Seward looked at the driver in the rear view mirror and could see that he was glaring at Seward. The car stopped abruptly. “We’re here.” The cabbie grumbled. “It’s fifteen forty three.” Seward pulled out his wallet. “I guess I’m going to have to, now aren’t I?” He pulled out a twenty and handed it to the driver. “Keep the change.” Seward muttered. “What are we doing here?” Seward said uncomfortably closing his coat around his ears. “Okay, do you really need me to explain this to you?” Ginger groaned. “And I thought that you were the real detective here! Okay, fine, I’ll spell it out for you. Just follow me, really quick.” Instead of going into the bar, Ginger went inside of the small coffee shop next door. The coffee shop had the words Mug Shots written in brown neon lights outside and there was some sort of indie rock music playing inside. Their clientele was mainly hipsters and punk kids, though there were people sitting in the corner with bloodshot eyes, swaying gently trying to sober up, though the early hour. Ginger stomped into the coffee shop nodding at the barista with the nametag that said ‘Brad’ in graffiti letters and put her finger to her lips. He nodded and went back to pulling a latte. “Do you come here a lot or something?” Seward asked Ginger. “Yeah, I guess. I’m a fan of coffee. Actually…” She said biting her lip and inhaled the smell of freshly brewed coffee. “I want coffee real bad.” She started walking toward the counter. “Hey!” Seward said pulling her away from the coffee she had her eye on. “Aren’t we here doing business? I didn’t come here to watch a teenybopper drink coffee! Now tell me what we’re doing here or I’m leaving!” Seward crossed his arms and pouted. “God, even if we’re not even doing anything, our deal still works out. I’m getting your mind off of whatever it is you’re trying to forget and I’m being entertained and inspired. However,” She went on. “We do have a case to solve. I suppose after we find out who killed Manuel Silver that we can find Melissa. That would be nice to give me some closure. That and the fact that Serena will probably ‘thank’ you all night long, if you know what I mean, if you figure out someone else besides her that killed her husband.” Seward groaned and tried to ignore Ginger’s diatribe. He knew that arguing with her would only egg her on. She simply giggled and waved off the barista coming to help her. “No, thanks, Brad. No coffee for me today. Can I get the bathroom key?” Brad the Barista handed her the key attached to a huge bike wheel

and smiled wide at her. “Hey, babe. I thought you weren’t into guys. Who’s the John? Oh, or is he your dad?” Brad the Barista sneered. “I’ve told you a dozen times, the bathrooms are one at a time. If you want to do that kind of thing, I’d recommend the club next door.” Ginger glared at him and took the bike wheel key and stomped off to the bathroom pulling Seward by the collar of his over coat. “Wait, what are we doing? I don’t want to—” Seward protested as Ginger dragged him into the single user unisex restroom. “God, Seward, don’t be such a prude.” Ginger said pushing Seward against the wall and grinning that wide smile again. Seward was shocked, scared, and panicky. He was getting ready to fight back when Ginger let go of him and went into her backpack. He saw her pull out something black and sparkly. “What is that?” He asked, his voice trembling slightly. “Turn around.” “What?! What’s going on?” Seward was fumbling and began to try for the door. All of a sudden she looked at him with a serious look on her face and pulled out a gun out of her backpack. “Turn around and don’t say a word. You’ll listen to me now.” Seward panicked. He did what she said, trembling and willing himself not to cry. He wondered at what point this case had gone so wrong. He tried to go back in his mind to think of any sign that Ginger Bailey would turn out to be violent. He could hear some strange shifting in the background. He heard the sound of what seemed to be the leather jacket hitting the linoleum floor, followed by the jeans. Seward was too terrified to predict what was going to happen next. He could hear Ginger clear her throat. “So now that I know that you’re going to be quiet, I can discuss some things with you.” She said calmly. Seward stared at the linoleum, tempted to turn around, but did not. Ginger continued, “So, we all know that Serena is one type of ‘party girl’. So, I deducted that she must troll the clubs. So when I was going through her house I was looking for what clubs she went to. So I looked for these little boxes.” She threw the boxes at Seward’s feet, as he looked down confused. He could see the boxes for what they really were, matchboxes. He bent to pick up one and instantly felt cold steel at the back of his neck. He froze. “I’m not done, Seward.” Ginger growled in his ear. “Didn’t I say not to move?” He felt the cold

steel of the gun being removed as Ginger continued. “So, I found quite a few of these all from different places. There was only one thing to set this bar, the one across the street of course, apart from the others. On this matchbox there was a phone number. It said Francesca and the number was 555-3409. It also said, “Thanks for the great night!” which is a surefire sign of a one night stand. I figure that maybe either this Francesca or someone else would know anything more about Serena’s secret life or possibly anyone that has it out for the Silver’s. That’s why we’re going to the bar and ultimately why we’re here. That’s the reason you have a gun to your head. Okay, I think I’m done. You can turn around now.” Seward panicked. “Ginger, I know that you’re going through a really hard time right now, but violence is never the answer. Shooting me will get you nowhere. Ex-except prison, of course. You will go to prison. Do you really want to throw away your life like that? Don’t you want to be an artist or something? Don’t you like taking showers all by yourself. Please, don’t kill me. Or hurt me in anyway. Oh, god, I don’t want to die. Or be raped. Please, Ginger. Let me go.” Ginger burst out laughing. “God, Seward. Just turn around already! I’m not going to do anything.” Seward winced and turned slowly with his hands up. “Don’t hurt me!” He groaned and fell to his knees. To his surprise he saw Ginger was completely dressed in a glittery black cocktail dress with fishnet tights and high heels. “What do you think?” She giggled, gesturing to the dress. “Wait, what’s going on?” He asked sweat dripping to the cold linoleum. “I was getting dressed, silly. Since you were being stubborn, I had to take desperate measures. I used my little friend here,” She said stroking a small pink handgun. “To calm you down and keep you quiet. I needed to air my mind and for you not to argue with my facts. Sorry. So, how do I look?” Seward was speechless. His mouth was agape as he stared at Ginger. He could understand her logic, but he felt that her solution was a little harsh. “That good, huh? I couldn’t just go into the bar dressed like that.” She said pointing at the pile of clothes next to her backpack. “Sorry ‘bout that, eh? No harm feelings?” She put her hands up innocently. Seward shook his head trying to steady his pounding heart and calm his breathing. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins

lead nowhere. “Let’s just get out of this damned bathroom, already.” Seward growled and they did. CHAPTER THIRTEEN The line was particularly long but Ginger walked up to the bouncer and smiled. He opened the velvet rope and let in Ginger. He glared at Seward, however. Ginger simply smiled and grabbed Seward’s collar and pulled him in. “He’s with me.” She purred to the bouncer. The bouncer frowned unbelieving so Ginger inched forward whispering, “He’s my sugardaddy.” And pulled him into the club. The club was hopping when they entered. The music was loud and techno and there was probably just as many raver kids as there were old hipsters. Ginger walked in as if she owned the club bouncing slightly in rhythm to the music. She had an air of sexuality that rivaled Serena at her best, but with a manner of sophistication and street smarts. She was a girl that could hold her own. She walked up to bar and asked for a Strawberry Daiquiri. Seward shook his head refusing a drink. “Oh, come on, Seward! Stop being such a square and have a drink with me. I promised you a drink and then thoroughly freaked you out. You deserve a drink. Pick your poison.” “All right, I guess I’ll have a… rum and coke?” The bartender handed them the drinks and Ginger pulled the money out of her bra. “All right, so now we’re here. You ready to party, Seward?” “Um… I’m not really the partying type, if you must know. I’ll just sit here and ask around.” “No, no.” Ginger said getting up off the barstool. “You’re coming with me. You know how to dance right? Let’s cut a rug!” Seward went with Ginger as she pulled him onto the dance floor. She began to dance with some sort of hip gyrations and arm raises that made Seward feel completely inappropriate and old. He tried to keep up but Ginger danced circles around him. “C’mon, Seward. Didn’t Serena teach you to dance, yet?” Seward glared at Ginger and tried to keep up but felt his joints complain with the sheer force of trying to dance at the same pace as someone in their early twenties. The song changed gratefully to something a bit slower as Seward tried to leave the dance floor to sit down. He sat at the bar resting his weary legs. He asked for another drink as Ginger joined him at the bar. She also got another drink , along with a shot of Patrón. She giggled as Seward vehemently shook his head rejecting to play a

drinking game. The music picked up, but Ginger and Seward simply stayed at the bar. “Ready, Seward?” She said with a twinkle in her eye. “No way. My feet are way too tired, Ginger.” “No, silly. Not dancing. We need to do what we came here for. We need to question people and try and find out who Francesca is. She could have been just one of Serena’s regulars, or maybe she had some sort of special connection to Serena like Melissa. We need to find out who it is. Hey, Bartender!” Ginger shouted across the bar. “C’mere!” The bartender groaned and came over wiping down the counter. “Whatcha want, babe?” He said staring at Ginger’s chest. “I was wondering if you knew a Francesca?” “Francesca what?” He grumbled in her general direction. “I'm not really sure. She was probably seen with a tall, blonde named Serena? Do you know who I'm talking about?” Oh, you should have said Serena!” He said turning all his attention to Ginger. “You know her?” “Yeah, we slept together a couple of times. She's kind of a sleeparound, if you must know. I feel for her, you know. She's been in here only a few times in the past couple of weeks, though. I don't get it. She used to come at least every other night. We miss her, here, we really love her. When she did come, she left alone, which was odd for her. She was always hooking up with someone or another and going home with them. If she couldn't find anyone, she'd come to me. Now when she came she was alone and really sad. She drank a lot, and got kind of hammered. What's the deal with her? Are the cops looking for her?” Ginger sneered. “Do I look like a cop to you?” Ginger sighed. “Do you have any reason to think that the cops would be looking for her? Is she dangerous? In your fine opinion, I mean.” “Oh, no. Serena was tough but underneath it all she was a sweetheart. A bit wounded, maybe. She seemed as if someone hurt her pretty bad in her life. I don't know if physically or mentally or what, but that's the feeling I got from her.” “Wow, is everyone a psychologist, now?” “You wanted my advice, I gave it, Baby. You want a professional opinion go see a shrink.” “Yeah, sure.” She sneered again. “So, will you keep as eye out for a Francesca?” “Yeah, I guess. What's your name, Sweetcheeks?”

“Fiona Page, and this is my assistant Pedro Page.” “Your daddy?” “Husband, actually.” She said smiling at Seward and squeezing his hand. “We're newlyweds. We wanted some intrigue and chose to do freelance detective work.” “Whatever floats your boat.” He said turning away and giving another patron a drink. Ginger turned back to Seward. “Damn. No Francesca. Where to next? Should we ask around?” Seward shrugged. “Sure, honey. Right after we get those vows renewed. Where did that come from? Why did you give him a fake name?” “I felt like I had to. He's kind of a perv and I wanted him to back off. Would you really mind being married to me?” “I don't believe in mail-order child brides, sorry.” He quipped. “Oh! Looks who's back!” She smiled. “I thought that the whole threatening you with the gun thing just made you hate me forever. Guess I was wrong. Want to dance, again?” “Oh, no. My feet-- I'm old, Ginger.” “Oh, please. You're not that old.” She said pulling him onto the dance floor for a very fast techno song. Seward danced awkwardly and tried to keep up with Ginger but finally kind of gave in just feeling the music and letting his body move. Then the song changed to a very slow song and Ginger shrugged holding on to Seward. “Slow dance with me?” “All... right.” Seward said awkwardly and took Ginger into his arms. They danced awkwardly while Seward tried to banish any thoughts from his mind other than not stepping on Ginger’s feet. He couldn’t help but think of the last woman he had slow danced with. He remembered her face vividly in his mind and instantly his mind began spinning. He felt heavy and dizzy as he wobbled and almost fell. “Seward? Are you okay?” Ginger helped him back to the barstool. “What happened?” “Whoa, I just got really dizzy. I’m sorry.” He put his head in his hands. “There’s only one thing that’ll help.” She said gesturing to the bartender. “The hair of the dog.” At that point for Seward things got a bit fuzzy. He finally, after several drinks agreed to play a drinking game with Ginger. They raced each other to the next drink and ended up quite smashed. They attempted

dancing again but almost fell over to the floor. Seward tried to question women about Francesca and Serena but came off as someone looking for a date and got many angry glares. Somehow or another Seward and Ginger found themselves outside the club, thrown out and cut off, but trying to sober up before they went home. “You’re lonely, Seward.” Ginger said inebriated. “Am not.” “Are too.” “Am not” “Are too. I can see it in your eyes. You try to pretend that you’re some great detective but then you act like this is your first case. What’s the truth? Who is the real Detective David Seward?” “I can’t tell you. It would ruin the mystique.” “Mystique? Oh, please. That was gone when I made you cry on the floor of the bathroom, remember? Just tell me. I’m so toasted I probably won’t remember in the morning anyway. Are you lonely?” “I’m lonely.” “Why don’t you get un-lonely?” “How do I do that?” “Well, stop hitting on widows and murderesses, that would probably help. Especially if they are one in the same.” “Who should I hit on then?” Seward hiccupped. “How ‘bout barely legal teenybopper sidekicks who think they’re Watson? Should I hit on them?” He slid his hand to Ginger’s knee. “No. I mean, go ahead if it really makes you feel better, but it won’t get you anywhere.” She pushed his hand off her knee and he hung his head. “Seward, smarten up. Find someone your own age. Go on an actual date. Do something that makes you feel better. Get a hobby other than this. I mean, I’m not downing on your profession, but grow up a little about it. Be an adult.” “What if that just gets you into situations that you’d rather not be in? What if you truly find someone you love only to find that they’re gone?” He began to cry gently. “I don’t know if I can deal with that. Maybe that’s why I go for the unattainable, because I know if they drift away, that they never really mattered in the first place.” He stood from the curb. “I’m lonely because I want to be. I don’t need some girl who pines after the emotionally unavailable to be lecturing me. You’re such a hypocrite!” He began to stomp away but realized he was too drunk to do much but fall on his butt back on the stoop. “You don’t know me! You

don’t know the first thing about me. Stop judging me.” Ginger waved her hand at him. “You’re drunk.” She disregarded him. “No! I’m not that drunk. I know what I’m talking about. You- youyou make me so angry! I can’t stand how you think you know everything. How arrogant your generation is!” “Hey, I may be arrogant but you’re over-generalizing our entire culture! How dare you? I could say that your culture is all stuffy, snobbish prigs! You don’t even know what you’re talking about. You’re so wasted you can’t even make a proper dramatic exit! Here! I’ll show you how it’s done.” Ginger stood and began to walk away angrily but fell on her knees. “Ouch! Damn it, my tights!” Seward began to get up to help her but instead began crawling to where she was on the pavement. “Are you okay?” He asked concerned. Ginger curled up in a ball and began to sob. “No! You’re just mean and you don’t get it! I’m alone! I’m lonely. At least I’ll tell you the reason, though. I don’t care about any stupid mystique! I lost the one person I truly cared about. I pushed her away when I needed her the most. It was an unhealthy relationship, but I shouldn’t have done what I did. I hurt her. I know I did. She needed me. She needed me!” Ginger dissolved into tears. Seward attempted to comfort her, patting her back gently. “We’re all lonely, G. We’re all lonely. It’s what you do with your loneliness that counts, that matters.” Seward looked down at Ginger. “What did you do?” Ginger said sobbing into his sleeve. “I-I got back on the horse. I had given up for so long, I needed to just… do it. Get a case. Be a detective again. I’m kind of out of practice but I know I can do it. I know I can solve this case. I need to solve it for you, for Serena, for Manuel and Melissa, and especially, especially for them.” Ginger looked up. “Who? Who are you solving the case for?” She wiped the tears and mascara from her cheeks. “Tell me. Tell me who you’re solving the case for.” Seward’s face went blank. “We should go. I’ll call a taxi. You should get going.” Ginger grabbed Seward’s shoulders and pulled him toward her. “No! Don’t close up now! Tell me who! Tell me WHO!” “I have to get going, Ms. Bailey. I need to get some sleep. I need to solve a case.” Seward got up and stumbled down the road, trying desperately to stay on two feet. He walked away hailing a cab.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN The next day, as the sun rose, Seward awoke with a pounding headache. He groaned, massaging his temples trying to fight off the hangover. In the haze of the night before he could see slight flashbacks of what had happened. He remembered the feeling of the cold steel against his neck from Ginger holding him at gunpoint while she dressed. He remembered far too many rum and cokes and fast dancing and leads gone nowhere. He could also remember the strange argument he had with Ginger and the regret from that sunk deep in again. He both hated the events of the night before and rejoiced in the fact that there was once again a set of memories to fill his head other than the frightening flashbacks that haunted him for so long. He dry swallowed some aspirin and vitamin C and remembered that he had forgotten his oath to Serena. He needed to clean up her house or at the very least go and apologize. He moaned and went up the stairs to get cleaned up and shaved. He left promptly after his hair dried completely. When he arrived at Serena’s he could see that many lights were still on. He knocked gently, fearful that the woman was still asleep at such an early hour. Almost instantly Serena opened the door. “Detective Seward. I’ve been expecting you.” For such an early hour, Serena was dressed to the nines in a short black dress, not unlike the dress that Ginger had been wearing the night before, but much shorter and less sparkly. This did not stop Seward from looking Serena up and down. “I had a sneaking suspicion that you were the one who left the mess in my home last night.” “I’m so sorry.” Seward started vexed. “I meant to come last night after the clu—” He stopped himself. He realized how awful it sounded that he had left her house in that state just to go clubbing. It also sounded equally as bad if he told her the reason for the clubbing was to investigate her, specifically. Serena seemed not to notice. “It’s fine. I’ve already cleaned up. I really don’t mind it and I understand that you’re a busy detective and such. You can’t be bothered with a little bit of respect and common courtesy for other people’s things. I totally understand.” Serena glared at him, rolling her eyes. “I really am sorry. If I could make it up to you in some way, I

will.” Seward said honestly. Serena just rolled her eyes again and pulled Seward in. “Come in, Seward. I’ll make you some coffee. You seem to need it.” “Can you tell that easily?” Seward groaned, falling into the couch. “Yes, I can practically feel the hangover radiating from your kneecaps. Has God decided to smite you with a headache the likes of that found only in the Old Testament?” “Yes, quite so.” He murmured quietly into his sleeve, blushing. “Don’t be so ashamed, Seward, it happens to the best of us. Did you at least have some fun?” Seward squinted his eyes as Serena closed the curtains. “No, not really.” He hadn’t after all. The drinking part had been fun and the dancing not half bad, but the lack of new leads and the drunken fight with Ginger Bailey still vexed Seward. He wondered why the insults of a girl young enough to be his daughter had hurt so much. No, not old enough to be his daughter. Maybe old enough to be a niece or cousin but not a daughter. The thought gave him a queasy feeling in his stomach so he instantly banished it. He turned to Serena again. “I was wondering if perhaps I could question you, again, Serena. There have been new leads and I was wondering if you could verify a few facts for me.” “Sure, I guess. What kind of facts?” Serena said slithering onto the couch, uncomfortably close to Seward. “So, we found some matchbooks in your home from many different bars. We inspected the bars and were told all about your promiscuous and promiscuous for monetary gain ventures. You can support this?” “I suppose. I did tell you all this before the case even began, though.” “I suppose I thought you said most of it, simply to intrigue me and catch my attention so I would take the case. I disregarded most of what you said as embellishment. Set me straight.” “No, no, Detective Seward. That’s your job to solve the crime. I can’t solve it for you.” “How do I know any of the things you told me are true?” Serena inched even closer to Seward. “Blind faith?” She said flirtatiously, pouting her lips at him. “I need to know that I can trust you.” Seward said shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“You can trust me, Seward. I’ve never lied to you. I know that I’ve made a lot of mistakes and I know that my actions probably led to all these things happening to me. I miss Manuel so much. My heart just breaks to think about it.” She looked Seward deep in his eyes. “I’m so lonely, Seward.” She touched the side of his face pulling him in. Seward leaned forward putting his hands on her shoulders. She leaned forward and went to kiss his lips. “I can’t… We shouldn’t.” Seward mumbled pulling away. “You’re our lead suspect. I really shouldn’t kiss you.” “Fine.” Serena said pulling away and taking a drag on her cigarette. Her eyes glowed, electric blue. “I’ll kiss you.” She pulled him close and kissed his resisting lips. He soon gave in and began to react pulling her into the kiss as well. All of a sudden a flood of images filled his head. He saw Ginger’s warnings about Serena, but the images that truly made him stop was the image of that woman: the one who haunted him so constantly holding the small child in her arms. She smiled a Mona Lisa smile at him but he could hear her warnings. He could see his old mentor telling his never to get involved with a woman on a case, especially if she was a suspect. He stopped and gently pushed away Serena. She persevered and tried to pull him back into the kiss. He became angry and pushed her away aggressively. “What the hell?” She hissed, offended. “I’m lonely, you’re lonely, what’s the problem, here?” Seward steeled himself looking down at the floor. “I’d like to make myself believe that you are innocent, but I can’t. You’re guilt lies so heavily all over you. You’re trying to seduce me, so soon after your husband was brutally murdered? We can’t, Serena. Oh God, this whole thing is so wrong!” “It’s not, Seward, it’s not! I know that you know that I’m upset about my husband but… I never really loved him in that way! I felt more of a… brotherly sort of love for him. That was why the affairs never bothered me. He was having affairs with men right and left and I didn’t care! As long as he was always there for me and left me to my own devices. I can’t say that we were truly compatible as husband and wife but I truly loved Manuel more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life.” “Why would you leave Olivia for Manuel, though? It seemed that you and Olivia had everything you needed in a relationship.” “No, maybe that’s the way that Olivia painted it, but that’s now how it was at all. Olivia was… neurotic, to put it nicely. She was so hungup on what her parents wanted and what everyone wanted that she found it

hard to be herself. Yes, I did love her, because she was similar to Manuel in so many ways but once I met him I felt that he was much better at being a good and loving person than she was. I guess what I didn’t realize was that Manuel was just better than Olivia at hiding who he really was. HisHis lover Eric has contacted me a few times since Manuel has died. I’m afraid of what he’s capable of. A few times Manuel came home with… No, it’s just too much.” She hid her face in her hands. Seward put his hand on her shoulder. “Keep going, Serena.” Seward urged. “Tell it all.” “Manuel would come home with bruises… and once a black eye. I asked him where he had been and he had told me that he had been with Eric. I think that Eric was beating him.” “But… you said that you were abused. Couldn’t Manuel hold his own?” Serena laughed dryly. “Manuel wasn’t the one abusing me. Melissa was.” CHAPTER FIFTEEN Seward left Serena’s apartment with a lot on his mind. He could see that Melissa was becoming even more of a suspect. He wanted to trust Ginger's opinion of Melissa and Ginger's opinion of Serena but he felt that maybe she was biased. He could see that she was trying to help, but he felt that her strong opinions were holding him back. He wanted to try and find some things out for himself for once: get out on his own. He realized his next suspect. Maybe the death of Manuel had nothing to do with Serena. Maybe it was Eric. Maybe Eric had something against Manuel, or perhaps Manuel had broken off the affair and Eric had wanted to keep him from dating anyone, ever. Serena had given Seward directions to the home of Eric, but the thought of a man that abused his married male lover frightened Seward. He walked up the porch of the home of Eric. He rang the doorbell and stood nonchalantly in the doorway. He heard the shuffling of feet and saw the door open a crack. He could hear a voice say quietly, “Yes?”

“I'm a girl scout selling cookies, punk. Let me in. I'm investigating a murder. I hear that you were friendly with Manuel Silver.” “Friendly? Is that what they’re calling it these days? I definitely didn’t.” He growled into the door. Seward kept up the sarcastic and aggressive act. “Let me in, Eric. Would you rather it be me or the cops?” “Ain’t you a cop?” “No, sir. I’m a private detective. I can at least give a little leeway to those who I felt simply made a mistake instead of did something in cold blood.” “Cold blood? What are you talking about?” Eric opened the door the whole way. Seward could see that Eric was wearing nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants. “Did something happen to Manuel?” “Manuel is dead, Eric. Manuel has been dead for weeks, now.” “Oh, my…” Eric broke off falling to the floor. He crumpled into a ball sobbing. Seward immediately felt deeply uncomfortable. He reached for a handkerchief or something in which to give Eric to wipe his face. He shifted on the balls of his feet anxiously, completely out of words to say as he watched Eric mourn the loss of his lover. “I’m sorry. You’re going to have to excuse me.” Eric said in between sobs. He rolled into a ball putting his head between his knees letting out lament-ridden sobs. “Are you All right? Is there anything I can… do?” Seward felt so desperately uncomfortable he considered leaving but did not want to think of the consequences of leaving such a grief-ridden man alone. “Would you like to come in?” He said, trying to steady his breathing but remaining in his original position. Seward could find no way of getting inside the home without stepping directly over the crumpled body of Eric in the foyer, so that is what he did. He took a look around the

apartment, which was nearing the cleanliness of the Silver apartment. He could see that it was much more minimalistic than the Silver apartment, however. Where the Silver apartment had a cozy, homey feeling to it, with the beiges and tans, Eric’s house was much more about the color white and almost a feeling of emptiness. There were white walls, floors, chairs, couches, and artwork on the walls. There were picture frames as there were in the Silver home, however in Eric’s home they were blank. Seward picked one up curiously, turning it and opening the back to see if there was a picture inside. There was nothing inside but the cardboard and a glossy sheet of white paper. Seward turned back to Eric who had calmed slightly and was picking himself up off the floor. “I’m sorry about that, detective. I just—I was madly in love with Manuel Silver and his death came as a… shock, to say the least. I- I thought he was ignoring me. Wanting to break it off again. I was upset but I always thought we’d get back together. We were… made for each other. He told me that, the last time I saw him. I worried about his mood; he was… different. I guess I could say now that it seemed like he knew something. At the time, I thought he was cheating on me but… maybe he knew that it was time. Maybe he realized that it was his time to go with God.” “Are you aware, Mr.…. I don’t know your last name. What is it?” “S—Oh, it’s Armstrong. For so long I had been calling myself Silver. I had hoped that…” His voice broke slightly. “Me and Manuel would be married. I guess some plans don’t work out.” He broke into tears again. His grief was so obvious on his face that Seward felt a distinct need to comfort him. He scooted a little closer to him and put his hand on his back, patting gently. Then, he realized the connotations of the patting and stopped and scooted away. “Are you aware that Manuel was already married?” “Oh, Serena? I’m pretty sure that there was a divorce in the works. Serena had to have known that they were in a loveless marriage. Manuel couldn’t imagine a l-l-life without real love. Serena wasn’t enough for

him. He was gay and he knew it. When we first met, he was in total denial of who he was. I loved him so much, that maybe I did pressure him to admit who he was. He was fine with it, though. He told his wife and even though he didn’t have a family anymore, I’m pretty sure he told his sister, too. She denied him, but he told me he never really like her anyway. He told me that she was gay as well but I’m not so sure about that. I wish she had just accepted us, as a couple. It would have saved a lot of strife, you know?” “Strife?” Seward asked confused. “Yeah, for a while she was sending hate notes and making really obscene calls in the middle of the night. It was really offensive stuff. I didn’t mind it so much, because I’ve been dealing with that kind of opposition my whole life, but I could tell it really bothered Manuel.” “Were they threatening notes and calls? Did Olivia say that she would do anything to you or Manuel?” “Not unless she’s Satan and planning on sticking us with her trident. No, I don’t think that Olivia was really violent. Controlling, maybe, but not to the point of murder. I saw her once in a grocery store. She glared at me and I was kind of afraid that she would start a scene. I’m pretty out in this neighborhood, but in some… you kind of have to fear for your life. There are a lot of sick bigots out there. She didn’t say anything, though. She just walked away.” “So, how about the divorce? Was Serena aware of this?” “Oh, I just don’t know. I told Manuel that I was sick of being his ‘mistress’ or whatever, and he said he’d deal with it. I’m not actually sure what he meant by that.” “Have you ever met Serena? She’s our main suspect at the moment.” “Oh, of course I’ve met Serena! I was living with Manuel for a

long amount of time once, while Serena was away on a trip. When Serena got home she found us together. I didn’t know what to do, but she sat me down on the couch and we had a talk. She told me that she didn’t mind me being with Manuel as long as I was good to him and I did something for her.” “What did you do?” “I went- no, I still go, at least twice a week and clean their apartment. While Serena was away on her trip, their apartment was spotless. I’m very cleanly, if you couldn’t tell, and I couldn’t stand being with Manuel in a place that was dirty. He once tried to take me to that disgusting downstairs room and have his way with me there. I said, ‘no way, José!” I asked him if he thought I was such a cheap date that I would do things there and so every time we met after that it was either here or in their house while Serena was away. After the last time I saw Manuel, I figured that he went away on a business trip or something just to avoid me. Serena never said anything. I really don’t believe that Serena could have done anything to him. Their relationship was adorable. Like a brother and sister with less drama, you know? Married for convenience. Manuel told me that they never even slept together.” “What’s with the blank picture frames, Eric? Was there something in them?” “Well, there were pictures of me and Manuel in them but once when we had a fight he opened the frame and tore the pictures to bits. He told me that he couldn’t stand anyone knowing about us. He wasn’t ashamed, I don’t think. It was just that he didn’t want to share the love we had with the world. I wouldn’t have minded going and screaming it from the rooftops, but Manuel was a much more private person. I respected that and told very few people.” “Who did you tell?” “Oh, my eighty-year old Sicilian grandmother and my mother, who

were overjoyed that I was dating a man of such distinction.” “Distinction?” Seward asked curiously, realizing he had no idea what Manuel Silver had done for a living. “Oh, yes! He’s one of the best defense attorneys in the city! You didn’t know that? Oh, if he was alive, he would be able to get Serena’s name completely cleared, I’m sure of it!” “If he was alive there’d be no crime, Mr. Armstrong.” Eric took another tissue and dabbed his eyes. “I need you to catch them, Detective Seward. I’ll never be able to sleep, until I know the bastard who killed Manuel is behind bars.” “I’m doing my best, Mr. Armstrong.” Seward steeled himself for the truly difficult question. He decided to ask it straight out. “So, tell me: were you abusing Manuel Silver?” “Oh, God, no! Why would you think that?” Eric stood offended. “Serena said that often times her husband would come home with bruises and black eyes. What do you know about this, Eric?” Eric played with the drawstring on his pants, nervously. He averted his eyes and bent his foot on the carpet. “I-I shouldn’t get into this. And neither should you, Detective. It’s too dangerous to get messed up in.” “What are you talking about?” Seward said standing to get on the same level as Manuel. “Really, Detective. No good for you or I could possibly come out of you knowing the truth. Oh, how rude of me. I forgot to offer you a drink. I have water, milk, beer.” “I don’t want a damned drink, Eric, just tell me. I know that you’re upset, but if there’s anything that could possibly have led to Manuel’s death, I have to know.”

“Oh, God. This is all my fault.” Eric said sitting back down on the couch and putting his face in his hands again. “What is? What happened?” “We… We were involved in an underground boxing club, Detective. It’s illegal, but it’s done. After that Fight Club movie, lots of guys wanting to be Brad Pitt went out and started their own boxing clubs. One of my friends told me about it and I went. I was curious and it sounded like more fun than the gym, you know. It’s actually where I met Manuel. He wanted to stop going after we started going out, but I forced him to. Oh God, it was my fault, wasn’t it?” “How could it have been your fault? What happened at these underground fight clubs?” “All right. I should start at the beginning. It all started when I was going out with Gabe. Gabe was the first real man that I liked that was more than just a schoolboy crush… Wait, am I making you uncomfortable?” Seward squirmed in his chair. He was a very accepting man but taking on this case he hadn’t realized what he had gotten himself into. He shook his head, lying as he pulled out a steno pad to write down details and hide his flushed face. “Yeah, so it was me and Gabe and we had been going out for, oh how long? It must have been about a year. We weren’t all madly, truly, deeply about it, but we liked each other and everything. I think he thought that we were going to get married or something ridiculous like that, but I wasn’t all that into him. Our relationship was stable, secure. It was nothing like Manuel and mine relationship. I thought that he was almost kind of a filler boyfriend while I was waiting for the real thing to come along.” Eric smiled gently. “It did. Gabe was really into training in MMA fighting.” “MMA?”

“Mixed martial arts. He was always in training, so we never really hung out all that much. Then he started avoiding me even at night. I thought he was cheating but he claimed that he wasn’t. I was so confused. After I threatened to break up with him (which even I knew at the time was inevitable) he told me the truth. He was involved in an underground fighting club. I told him that I didn’t believe him and he asked me to tag along to the next meeting. I was suspicious but, I must admit, a little intrigued. It sounded to ‘rough and tumble’ and illegal that the whole thing just kind of gave me chills, in a good way, you know. I live a very safe, very clean life, Detective. It was even worse when I was with Gabe. We fed off of each other’s anal retentiveness and little quirks. It was odd, but it was how we worked at the time. I wanted to get out of that little shell and take a chance. I wanted to taste danger and feel the heat of sin pressing down on my cheek so hard it bruises. I wanted to hit someone really, really hard! I was pumped that night as Gabe ran the rules by me. The rules were—Oh, God, I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this. I should just stop now, while I still have a chance.” “No, come on. Don’t you want Manuel’s murderer found? This could be the connection that I’ve been looking for. Do you want Manuel’s widow to be locked in prison for the rest of her life for a murder she didn’t commit? Tell me, Eric. Avenge the death of your one true love.” Eric sighed, resigned. “I can’t give you any more details but I can give you the address to figure it out for yourself. This sect of the underground fighting club takes place in the basement of the First Episcopalian church on 7th street. The password to get in is ‘bulldog’. Oh, wait. Or is it ‘bullfrog’? Oh, it’s been so long.” Eric put his hand on his chin and waggled his fingers. “Oh, well. It’s something like that. Good luck, Seward. Whatever you do, don’t tell them that I sent you. You probably shouldn’t mention Manuel, right away, either. Let’s just say, he did something that none of the head people in the group approved of. That’s all I can say.” Eric walked Seward to the door. “Thank you for telling me about… Manuel. I really appreciate you being here. I wonder

how long it would have taken for Serena to have said something if you had not. Sometimes I question that woman’s ethics… Oh, well. Good luck, Detective. Get the bastard.” And Seward walked out with a fresh new lead. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Ginger sat with her arms crossed as Seward told her Eric’s tale. They were back in Seward’s office and were bouncing ideas off of each other when Seward had to explain seeing Eric. Ginger was infuriated. “You really don’t think that Serena had anything at all to do with the death of Manuel? I mean, the whole ‘underground fight club’ scenario just seems a bit farfetched. I can’t believe you went to question Eric without me! We’re supposed to be partners, remember? Maybe if I would have gone with you, I could have gotten a good sense whether Eric was telling the truth or not! Sometimes I just don’t get you, Seward.” “This is my case! I told you that you can tag along, but I need to solve it for myself. “All right, but if you mess up, you’re messing with a lot of people’s lives. There are a lot of people depending on you to get this right, not only me. You have Eric, Serena, Olivia, and the cops all trying to pin this on someone. This is bigger than you, bigger than me and we need to catch the killer and fast. Maybe we’re both wrong. Maybe the whole thing was a coincidence and maybe it was a serial killer. How will we know unless we narrow down the usual suspects? We need to get serious and stop screwing around wasting our time. I want to come with you to the fight club. I want to help.” Ginger looked Seward in the eye. “I need to help you do it. For Melissa, you know? I know that she would care if this whole thing was solved and I would want her to be proud of me.” “Why do you always talk about Melissa as if she’s dead? She’s not dead, is she?” “Not that I know of, but even if she’s just missing she’s dead in my

eyes. I don’t think either of us will ever see Melissa Vane ever again.” “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. Is there? What are you holding back?” Ginger looked confused. “Nothing, Seward. Why would I lie to you?” “I don’t know. Why would you?” Seward was searching Ginger’s eyes and could see there was something that she wasn’t telling him. He couldn’t figure out what, but he felt the need to investigate further. “Tell me, Ginger, honestly. Are you hiding something?” “No! I’ve been completely straight with you. I haven’t lied. I just get these feelings, I told you, especially about Melissa. I think she left without any plans to ever come back.” Seward dropped it, for now, reminding himself to come back to it later. “Well, this time, I want you to stay behind. I want to investigate this underground fight club on my own. It’s more of a man’s place to be anyway.” Ginger scoffed. “That’s so sexist! I could probably punch you harder than you could punch me. I’ve been trained in basic self-defense.” “It doesn’t matter. It’s men-only, anyway.” Seward wasn’t really sure whether this was true but he really didn’t want Ginger taking up this part of the case He was both afraid that she would get hurt and afraid as to what it would mean about his own masculinity bringing a young woman with him to a fight club. “Fine. Take it, all for yourself. While you’re gone what am I supposed to do, just twiddle my fingers?” “Go to the clubs, again. See if you can find the mysterious Francesca or anyone else who knows anything about Serena and Manuel, or even Melissa.”

“But what if the entire case is solved in the fight clubs? I just had no part in discovering who killed Manuel? You know that I need to have to have a part in the outcome of this case!” “You have. You’ve helped me narrow down the suspect list and you’ve done a lot of investigating thus far. It’s ultimately my case. I’m getting paid to solve it. You really, honestly, ethically should have no part in it. This doesn’t mean I’m kicking you off the case. I just need to do this part alone, All right?” “Fine. If it’s so important to you, then go on your own.” Ginger pouted, crossing her arms. “But don’t come crying to me when your lead leads nowhere. Or better yet, do, so I can say I told you so.” “Fine.” Seward said stubbornly. “Fine.” Ginger answered picking up her stuff. “Just go. I’ll stay here to get my facts together. Just leave the key and I’ll lock up.” “No hard feelings?” Seward said sarcastically standing up, giving Ginger the key. “I don’t know why you act like this, anyway. I have a case to solve.” And with that Seward rose and left his office. CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Seward arrived at the basement of the First Episcopalian church on 7 street at exactly eleven p.m. He loitered around the outside looking around to see if there was anyone suspicious entering the church. He pushed his collar up and blew into his freezing hands trying to warm himself up. He looked left and right and tried to convince himself that he truly did not need Ginger. He could see that this would be a situation in which she would actually be helpful. He could tell that her fast wits and bravery would be helpful just to get him inside. He went to the front door in lieu of seeing anyone suspicious and wondered if he should knock. He realized that anyone who would be going to an illegal underground th

fighting club would not knock politely. They would just go in. He tried the door and found that it was open. When he entered he saw the place was completely dark. He grabbed a small flashlight out of his pocket and started to feel his way though the small church. “Hello?” He murmured quietly so he could claim that he was lost and asking for directions. All of a sudden he saw a bright light in his face. “What are you doing here?” “I’m- I’m- I’m just looking for… a bullfrog?” “What?” Out of the darkness he could see a looming figure at least six foot six and three hundred pounds covered with tattoos. “I’m looking for a place with bulldogs?” “Bulldogs? What are you talking about?” The man cracked his knuckles. “I- I’ve forgotten the password. I’m so sorry. I was wondering where the—you know, is?” “You a cop?” “Umm… No. I’m a personal… accountant. I’ve never done this before, sorry. I’m really freaked out. Are you a narc?” “No, man. I’m the gatekeeper. I’m not really supposed to let you in if you don’t know the password, but I feel for you. I’m gonna let you in, but I promise you that if you start anything I’ll get you rid of you, but I can’t be sure that you’ll leave with all the limbs you came in with.” “Oh. Um… All right, man.” Seward waited for the man to move so he could go inside the door that the gatekeeper was covering. The man didn’t move. Seward tried a different tactic. “Yeah. Yeah! Are you pumped?” He said trying to sports guy chest bump the gatekeeper. The gatekeeper stayed unmoved looking at Seward peculiarly. Seward realized

what the man was waiting for. “Oh! Sorry.” Seward said pulling his wallet out of his pocket and pulling a twenty out of it. “That’s more like it.” The gatekeeper said pocketing the twenty. “You can go in. But remember, keep the whole thing quiet.” “Thanks, man.” Seward said going in the door. “Oh, wait.” He said stopping and turning. “What was the password, anyway?” “Oh, you were way off. It was ‘fruit flies’.” “Oh, great.” Seward grumbled and walked down the long staircase. He could hear at the end of the staircase a large menagerie of sounds. He could hear dogs barking and growling, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, roosters squawking, and men egging all of these sounds on. When he got to the bottom of the stairs he could see that the dank basement was separated into three parts: a cockfighting area, a dog-fighting area, and the area in which the men fought. There were men with fists of money screaming expletives and crying encouragement to the fighters, despite the species. He could see that bets were taking place on all three of the fighting rings. He strayed to the side with the men fighting. He could see the one that was the obvious winner by the lack of blood flowing down his face. The other had blood all over his face and hands and bruises all over his body as the other pounded him all over. They were both wearing nothing but jeans and the man losing had a nose piercing that was completely soaked in blood. He could see that the bettors were all for the man with the nose piercing from their cries of anguish and throwing of money on the floor. The winner pinned the pierced man to the floor holding his arms above his head. Seward could hear the crunch of bones and the sick sliding of blood on the floor. The winner leaned down and bit a thick chunk of neck out of the pierced man and pulled a large chunk out and held it up to show the crowd. The crowd groaned. Seward could see the some of the men were crying throwing down the money, having lost the money they so desperately needed. The pierced man was screaming holding his neck while the other man stood and lifted his arms in a victory

stance. The sounds from the room were visceral and instinctive while Seward stood shyly with his hand in his pocket. The victor walked away proudly, ignoring the glares from the bettors and shaking hands with bettors who won. The man on the floor was moved and cleaners came by to clean the mess left from the injured holding bottles of bleach and sponges cleaning up the blood and gore. Seward felt sick and turned away to keep himself from throwing up bumping into a man standing near him. “Oh! Sorry, man. First fight?” Seward nodded, holding his hand over his mouth. “Yeah, it’s like that for everyone. Maybe you should start with the roosters.” He said pointing at the man hauling away a dead rooster. “They’re pretty harsh, though. I mean, at least with the men no one dies. Usually, that is.” The man chuckled. “You really do get used to it, though. Then, after you’re used to it, you start to enjoy it. I mean, this is the most real part of my day. I trade on the stock market and sometimes I have to tell myself that some things in life really do matter. I had a bit of an existential crisis and then I came here. I’ve found that seeing life right before it ends or at its very peak helps you realize that life is really worth living.” The man smiled. “What do you do for a living?” Seward uncovered his mouth and straightened up. “I’m a… personal accountant…” He remembered Serena’s words. “For a very rich man.” “Really? Who? Or can I ask?” “Umm… I’d rather not say.” Seward said slyly. “Oh, well. I guess you don’t have to tell me. So, why are you here? What’s your deal?” “I just… I guess it’s kind of the same as you. I didn’t feel quite real or like a man. I needed a reality check.” “Yeah, and that’s exactly what you’ll get here. Are you betting or just watching?”

“Just watching. We’re in a recession, you know.” “Of course. That’s all I hear at work. Here, though, it seems to matter less. In here, fight club has it’s own economy. You both make and lose money and you normally end up about even in the end. You can hear when men lose money, when they win, just like you can hear when men lose fights and when they don’t. It’s primal. You can feel the pain from the hits and the pain inside from the loss of money. I mean, you almost wonder how these things are illegal when you feel so real inside from just being here. I was wondering, though, if you knew the rules? I figure that someone had to have told you about this, but maybe they didn’t tell you the whole story. I mean, you look pretty grossed out, but not really as nervous as you should look.” “No, no one told me the rules. Why should I be nervous?” The man laughed heartily. “Oh, man. I don’t get why people think that this place should be so secretive. It’s all the hype and press. The whole, ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ kind of thing. Oh, please. How would anyone make any money if no one would talk about it? It’s so silly. So anyway, the rules: the first rule is you have to fight at least once, and you know the bouncer outside that door there?” The man said pointing up the staircase. Seward nodded. “You have to fight him.” Seward’s eyes widened in fear. “He’s not that bad, is he? He seems like he’s a pretty cool guy. He’ll go easy on me, right?” The man laughed. “Oh no, man. He only fights the new guys. He holds up all his aggression until we get a new guy and we haven’t had one for a few months. He’s a corrections officer in the real world and he’s going through a really harsh divorce right now. I’d be scared if I were you.” Seward felt woozy and grabbed the side of the boxing ring. “Hey, man, are you okay?” The man said steadying him. “Hey, don’t worry about it too much. Just cover your head and hit hard. Try not to piss him off or anything. You probably won’t have to fight ‘til later so you should be cool. Just watch the real fighter’s techniques and don’t get your ass

killed.” Seward was freaked out. He stared at the fighters in a daze. He was going to get himself killed. His eyes were glued to the fighters as his entire life flashed before his eyes. He could see the woman and the little boy again. The little boy in his arms crying, just born and the woman screaming at him. He could feel her soft blond hair against his touch and hear the little boy say his name. He could see his mother and father and brother and sisters and wondered if he would ever see anyone again. He could see Serena and Ginger in one room glaring at each other and could see the photographs of Manuel happy and smiling with Serena. He wanted nothing more than to get out of this place alive. He croaked out to the man, “Does anyone die, here?” The man grimaced. “Well, actually, that’s one of the rules. If someone dies, we don’t talk about that kind of thing here. If someone is hurt and doesn’t come back, or dies in the ring, we don’t ever mention it to anyone. There have been many deaths here, especially for someone who just joined. Don’t worry about it too much. I’ve never known anyone who died before, so… you shouldn’t worry it about it.” “What—ahem, what are the other rules here?” “Oh, they’re kind of ‘unwritten’ and ‘unsaid’, you know. Some of them I’ve found out to be true is ‘no calling PETA or any other animal rights group’. This one guy was kind of an activist and sent a report to PETA. We had to change locations and no one ever heard from him again.” He chuckled. “Another rule is ‘no calling 911, no matter how hurt the fighter gets’. If he’s lying on the ground, we move him somewhere else and call the cops from there. If a fighter is hurt, he goes home and then to the emergency room. Why do you think the cops get so many reports of muggings? The fighters claimed they were mugged or they just keep quiet. Domestic violence is suspected for a good amount of the men. Domestic violence is higher for men than for women anyway. They think that these men are being beaten by their wives, girlfriends, husbands, or

boyfriends. It’s very interesting when you think about it, how many people who are going down in mugging and domestic violence statistics are all skewed due to consensual assault of the fight clubs.” He laughed again. “Consensual assault. Ha ha. Anyway, so if you just hang out a while, you’ll figure out most of the rules for yourself. The main rule, however, is never and I mean never mess with the bosses. That’s how a guy really gets killed.” He smirked. “So don’t worry about the first fight. You really should be fine, just don’t worry about it. Nerves and the bosses, those are what really kill a man.” He smiled and patted Seward on the back. “So are you ready?” The man said. “Umm… not really. So, I was wondering, who exactly are the bosses, here?” “Oh, they don’t let themselves be known, unless they need to be known. Everyone once in a while when they feel the need to ‘intervene’ for financial reasons. I promise, if you see one you’ll know. Other than that, they stay pretty much out of all the business here. They like this place to stay pretty self-sufficient, but I guess they do like to make a bit of profit out of it.” The man leaned into Seward. “I hear,” He whispered looking around. “That they’re the Mob, or have connections to some sort of crime syndicate.” The man looked around fearfully and pulled away waving his hand. “But that’s probably just an urban legend.” Seward tried to think of a way to bring up the death of Manuel Silver. “Do you know how they deal with troublemakers and dissidents?” “Oh, if they’re Mob or even have Mob connections, than there’s only one way to deal with trouble.” The man said with a sparkle in his eye. He smiled wide. “A pair of cement shoes and a watery grave, my friend, or something along those lines.” There it was. If he could only get to the higher ups than maybe he could question them or investigate them further to see if perhaps Manuel had started trouble and was punished. Now that he thought of it, Seward realized that Manuel’s death was done in a very organized fashion. The

lack of remorse for the man, evidence, and leads could very well prove that it was well thought out. Seward sighed. This was getting deeper and deeper into the kind of territory that Seward tried to avoid. He did like to take challenging cases with high price tags, because he had been so good before he lost his touch, but this case wasn’t really difficult as much as it was infuriating. There were these solid leads that just led nowhere. He still wondered if Olivia had anything to do with the murder, or if perhaps Melissa had done the murder and left town. Then there was Serena. The one who seemed to have the most motive but he felt like he knew her. He wondered what would be the objective of hiring a detective if she had committed the murder herself. Was Ginger right and was Serena truly that bloodthirsty? Did she just do it to get attention? He could tell that Serena was a fan of attention, but enough to murder her husband and hire a detective to solve the crime? Now that was just crazy. Although, when he had questioned her, she had seemed honest. He believed her. He didn’t believe that she was capable of murder, especially not of Manuel. Their marriage was one of convenience, but not one of hate. They had loved each other in a way that may have been unconventional for people to get married because, but they had made each other happy. He believed their family pictures. There was one thing that seemed odd for Seward but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. He squinted his eyes trying to think of a detail that was odd, that he couldn’t figure out. Finally, he realized… “C’mon, man! You’re up! Get in there!” The man said pulling on his arm, pulling Seward out of his daze. “What? What’s going on?” Seward said trying to pull away but realizing the man was much stronger than he. “You’re up, man! It’s your turn to fight! Go up there, man!” “What if I can’t?” Seward said panicked and tried to fight the man pushing him up into the ring. “What if I refuse? I’ll leave. I’ll leave and never come back. C’mon, man. I don’t want to do this! I don’t want to fight!”

The man just chuckled again. “Dude, everyone says the same thing. Just go with it, I swear you’ll enjoy it!” Seward could hear the screams of encouragement from the men around the ring crying for Seward’s blood and making bets against him. “Fight good! My bet’s on you, man!” Seward entered the ring terrified. He could see that men surrounded the entire ring and that there was no way out. Seward freaked out and could smell the bleach from the last fight being cleaned up, and blood from the last fighter. He could smell endorphins and adrenaline pumping from the men surrounding the ring and hear the screams of the bettors, “LAST CHANCE!” Seward wanted to run, but he felt that he would be hurt even worse if he ran away. “Oh, God.” Seward groaned, as he could hear the thumping steps of his opponent walking up to the ring. He stepped over the ropes and jumped into the ring. The gatekeeper, the bouncer was even huger without his shirt on. His muscles bulging as he cracked his knuckles. In that cracking, Seward could practically feel the cracking of his own bones. He touched the back of neck, nervously. “Shirt!” A man in all stripes yelled into the ring. Seward looked down at his shirt confused. The bouncer looked at Seward kindly. “Take off your shirt, dude. Shoes, too.” Seward’s eyes grew large again as his cheeks flushed as he began taking off his shirt. He felt embarrassed as a middle-schooler in a locker room showing his doughy, pale chest to the room of tan, chiseled bodies. He took off his shoes, too, leaving them just outside of the ring. “Ready?” The bouncer said again. Seward shook his head quickly. “C’mon, man. Let’s just get this done. Don’t fight back that much, I really don’t want to hurt you. I told you before, you seem like a nice guy, but I got to fight you. Just be cool and it’ll go quick, ‘kay?” Seward stood stock still, flinching and sweating on the floor, his arms crossed. “O-o-okay.” Seward stuttered. “I’m ready.” “Put your hands up over your face, at least.” The gatekeeper said.

“Okay.” Seward said putting his hands up, shaking all over. “I just gotta hit you once, and you hit the floor and stay there and I win, okay?” “All right.” Seward said and closed his eyes trying to transport himself back to three years prior. He could see her beautiful blonde hair again and hear her saying his name. He could see her walking away. He heard the ding of a loud bell and could feel the air around him disturbed as the doorkeeper stepped closer to him and cocked his arm to hit Seward. Instead of simply standing there and let himself be hit in the face, he dodged the hit and dove to the floor. The bouncer didn’t expect this and ran into the huddled body of the detective and tripped landing face first into the ropes. His nose burst into an explosion of blood, spraying the bettors and watchers outside the ropes. Seward scrambled getting up and running away from the large man whose face was bleeding profusely. “I’m so sorry!” Seward said lifting up his hands innocently. He saw the gatekeeper lift his head enraged. He could see that there would be no turning back now, and no getting off easy. The bouncer came at Seward, all three hundred pounds coming straight at him as fast as a bullet. For some reason, Seward flashed back to elementary school bullies and his dad teaching him to fight. He faked a turn towards one side of the ring, instead going to the other holding onto the ropes and holding out his feet. The doorkeeper went, with all his weight and anger flying into the ropes again, this time hitting his forehead dreadfully hard against the wooden post holding the ropes together and instantly passing out on the floor. Seward sank against the ropes, desperately thanking God for letting him live to see another day. He smiled, victorious until he looked around and could see the angered faces of the bettors throwing their money at their feet and trying to lift the bouncer from the ring. The man Seward was talking to smiled wide at him and waved a fistful of cash. Seward wiped the sweat from his brow jumping over the ropes, unsuccessfully and falling on his knees weak with relief. “Told you that you had nothing to worry about. Would I lie to

you?” The man said with a grin. “The odds against you were so high that I made enough money to get some food. Want to come?” “They serve food here?” Seward said sickened, imagining tough chicken from the roosters and dog meat. “Nah, man.” The guy said punching Seward in the arm. “Food in the real world. I’m done here for the day.” He said fanning out his money and pointing with his thumb at the angry faces waiting annoyed for the next fight to make their money back. “It’d probably be a good idea for you to come, too. I mean, they won’t care if you come back, but they’re a bit peeved, right now. Want to get a beer or something?” He said walking up the stairs where a temporary doorkeeper glared down at Seward. “Yeah, why not?” Seward said grabbing his shirt and shoes and running to follow the man. “Just one question?” “Yeah, anything man. You just won me almost two thousand bucks. What do you want to know?” “What’s your name?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The bar was nothing like the bar that Serena had frequented and Ginger had taken Seward to. This bar was more of a dive that only men frequented. There were truckers and frat boys hauling back Guinness like pros, playing beer pong and pool. There was a juke box playing everything from the Eagles to Paul McCartney and neon lights of naked women and beer advertisements. The smell of open drunkenness was everywhere and after a few beers and plates of fries, David Seward and Jon Freedman were both able to open up quite a bit. “So who told you about fight club, Dave?” Jon asked with a mouth full of fries.

Seward thought this through, past the fog that the beer brought around. “Oh, it was actually my brother. He… he died recently, though.” “In fight club?” Jon said, shocked but still with a mouth full of fries. “No.” Seward said, methodically but trying to sound tragic. “He was murdered.” He answered and tried to seem like a grieving brother. “Oh my God. Downer.” Jon said, slurring his words slightly. Seward was reminded of Ginger, that night they got so smashed that things got really messed up. “Yeah. He used to go to fight club and he was always telling me that I should go, but… I was too afraid.” “Do you think you’ll go back?” Jon asked taking a swig of beer. “Yeah. I wanted to see if anyone knew my brother and could tell me anything they know about him or maybe what happened to him. They still haven’t found his murderer.” “My God, dude. Who was your brother? Maybe I knew him. I’ve been going to fight club for a few months. What was his name?” “His name was Manuel Silver.” “Silver? You’re last name is Silver, too?” Jon said drunkenly. “Yeah.” Seward said trying to act just as drunk. “Did you know my brother?” “Actually,” Jon said knocking back the rest of the beer. “I do, or did. Whatever. He was…” He stopped and looked down at his hands. “Jon? What’s the matter?” Seward said worriedly. “I knew him well. No wonder I saw you and felt an instant

connection with you if that was your brother. I mean, he was a really great buddy. He first came alone and then started coming with Eric. I never really liked Eric; he was too neat and clean. He tried to seem like he fit in, but even on his first night he screamed louder than anyone I’ve ever heard. He lost his first fight, but Manuel didn’t. He fought and fought off Ambrose, the bouncer, until he hit him so hard in the nose he got him down and pinned him down. It might just have been the best fight I’ve ever seen.” “Wow. I had no idea that he was such a good fighter.” Seward improved. “Yeah, he was one of the best. That was when the drama started. He was the number one fighter of the moment and nobody could beat him. The higher-ups arranged a big fight: Manny against the second best fighter Finn. It was going to be the most dramatic fight in the history of the fight club. Everyone had their bets in on this fight. Almost everyone showed up, and the dog and cockfighting was cancelled for the evening. There were some… rumors about the higher-ups paying Manny off to throw the fight, but I think he might have stiffed them. He beat Finn so bad, that there was mass chaos. Everyone won the bets and the fight club was cancelled for days afterwards due to the money loss. It was insane. I never saw Manny after that. I was bummed. He was a really cool dude.” “I know this may be uncomfortable but did you… have a relationship with him?” “What? We were friends. Did you mean he was…” Jon got up falteringly, falling off the barstool. “I’m not gay!” He yelled as the staring bar patrons stared and heckled. “Hey, chill out.” Seward said, trying to steady him. “C’mon, man, get away! I’m not a homo!” Jon said trying to get away.

“Jon, I’m just trying to figure out what happened to my brother. Just help me!” Jon stumbled away turning around. “I had nothing to do with Miguel like that. We were just friends. I don’t roll like that, and I never have. I didn’t know what the deal was with him and Eric but now I do. I’m glad he’s dead. He wasn’t worth the blood he left on the floor of the mat and neither are you.” Jon spat out and stormed out of the bar, leaving chairs and drinks in his wake. Seward sat back down and stirred his drink listlessly. The interview had gone from good to horrendous very fast. He put his head in his hands, gesturing to the bartender for the check. He searched his pockets and found that he had just enough money to pay the tab for both Jon and himself along with the French fries. He paid the bartender and tipped frugally. He walked outside, realizing he had no way to get home. He thought about hailing a cab and paying once he got home, but he was afraid that the cabbie wouldn’t go for that kind of plan. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, playing with it trying to decide whether or not he had any choice but to do what he planned on doing. He fiddled with the phone and finally dialed the number. “Ginger? Can you come and get me?” Ginger walked into the bar, amidst the gaping stares. Once again she was wearing just a tank top and ripped jeans and was completely covered with paint. “I was working.” She informed Seward, obviously still sulking. She looked at him closely. “You chicken out? Well, of course you did. I never really thought that you’d fight anyway. You’re too much of a wimp.” Seward scoffed. “I did fight, actually. I even made a friend. Even though he ran away because I think he thought that I was hitting on him. Total bigot.” Seward said, relaxing again with another drink. “Yeah, like you’re so gay.” Ginger said, giggling at Seward’s drunkenness. “So, you really did fight? Did you win?”

While Seward relayed the story of the fight club to Ginger, she sat on the barstool drinking energy drinks until the bartender called, “Last call”. “We should go, Seward. It’s getting really late and we need to get up in the morning. I didn’t find anything, so I went home pretty early. You’re going back to the fight club tomorrow night. I feel that there’s more there than they’re willing to tell you. You need to find Jon, again, this time sober. Maybe he just overreacted. If he didn’t either take it all back or maybe he’s the one who killed Manuel. All I know is that tomorrow night, I’m going with you. I’ll go undercover, so no one recognizes me, but you need backup, there. Is that okay, Seward?” Seward just nodded, dozing off in his barstool. “Okay. First thing first, let’s get you home.” She said knowing full well that he couldn’t walk on his own. She pulled him off the barstool saying, “Upsy-daisy.” Escorting him out of the bar and into a cab. In the cab, Seward instantly fell asleep as Ginger watched him sleep with a small smile on her face and headphones in her ears. When the cab arrived at Seward’s apartment, she got out of the cab, pulling him to standing and pulling him up the stairs. She went into the pocket of his jacket grabbing his key unlocking the door. She pushed his hair back out of his eyes and could see the moonlight and city lights all reflected in his eyelashes. She smiled again. “Okay, honey. Let’s get my new hubby inside.” She said gently so as not to wake him and pulled him into the living room. She set him down gently on the bog comfy couch and went into the foyer closet and found a small blanket. She covered him, moving his hair again and kissing his forehead. “Goodnight, Seward.” She said gently and left him, locking the door behind her, and went back into the waiting cab.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN The next morning, the sun streamed in through the blinds of Seward’s apartment. He tried to remember how he came to lie on the

couch but he the last thing he could remember was being with Ginger in the bar discussing the fight club and drinking a Vodka straight up. His head ached and he wondered if maybe detective work was more drinking than he could remember in the past years. No, He thought. This is what being single is like. He thought and limped up the stairs to the bathroom. He looked into the mirror and could barely recognize the man looking back at him. His skin looked much older and he had slight bruises from the fight the night before. As opposed to other men at the underground fighting club though, he was practically untouched. He smiled and could see that his lip was cracked, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the fight or simply from having chapped lips. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of aspirin and took four and closed the bottle and the cabinet. He looked in the mirror again and could see something he hadn’t noticed before. On his forehead there was a slight touch of red lipstick in the perfect shape of a kiss. He touched it gently and realized it was the exact shade of lipstick that Ginger had been wearing the night before. He tried with difficulty to remember the night before to figure out what had happened. He could remember that Ginger had been drinking something and he had been hitting on her but… had it really happened? Had she spent the night and left early in the morning? Had he taken advantage of her? He remembered the last time he was drunk, how he had tried to hit on her and she had pushed him away. Had it worked this time? Seward groaned, wishing he had something stronger than the aspirin to take the headache away, but realized the headache wouldn’t truly go away until he talked to Ginger. Would she remember what had happened? Of course, she would. Seward thought. It was only men that forgot that sort of thing. He wondered what he should do. Would it be rude to call and ask if they had had sex? Shouldn’t he know or not? He realized that if he had, he hadn’t used protection because he never kept any around anymore. Seward felt bitter. Why would a loner, like me have to keep condoms around the house? He thought angrily. He hated himself for his, quite literal, absentmindedness. He walked into the living room finding his coat. He searched the pocket for the phone and found in the pocket a small note from Ginger. “Call me when you’re up.” It said simply. Seward wondered what it

meant. It least it meant that she wanted to hear from him again, instead of wanting to avoid his company. This made Seward happy. He had grown to like Ginger, both as an assistant and as a person. He dialed her number quickly and waited to hear her voice. Every ring was like another form of torture for Seward as he tried to think of what he wanted to say. “Shello?” Ginger answered, half asleep. “Did we have sex?” Seward blurted out before he could hold back. “Wait, hold up.” Ginger said as she yawned and stretched and got out of her mezzanine bed. She put on her slippers and walked into the kitchen opening the cabinets and refrigerator and making a bowl of Count Chocula cereal. She sat down at her couch and started eating the cereal and flipped on the TV. She sat back with a mouthful of cereal and flipped open her phone again. “Okay, are you awake, yet?” “Um… yeah. Sorry about that.” Seward said shyly. “But really I need to know. Did we really sleep together last night? I woke up this morning and found lipstick on my head and I really don’t remember how I got back to my house. What happened last night?” Ginger laughed gently. “You really think I would take advantage of you like that? I came to get you a ride home and that’s what I did. I carried you home and tucked you into the couch like a good little boy and kissed your forehead like a good mommy. I wasn’t drinking at all, and I didn’t get fresh with you. Sorry, ‘bout it.” Seward sighed, breathing easily. “Thanks.” He said. “I was just kind of… freaked out.” “Yeah, whatever. So I’ll meet you at your house tonight, for the fight club, yeah?” “Yeah, I guess.” Seward said scratching his head fuzzily, still feeling the effects of the hangover on his brain.

They spent the day normally, like they had before the case. They rested around their own individual houses and did what normal people not completely stressed out about a case to solve do. Seward relaxed at his desk, pretending to going through his files and listening to classical music and letting himself zone out. Ginger painted and played guitar, desperately trying to find the inspiration within but instead finding it within Serena, Manuel, the fight club and all the things surrounding the case. The use of red in her paintings was tremendous and the use of the word ‘pain’ in her songs became ubiquitous. The day went both slowly and much too quickly. They had both needed the break desperately, but all they wanted when they weren’t working was to be back on the case, back to trying to solve the murder. The day was gray in color and quiet, despite any noise, it was quiet. Seward began preparing for the fight club, much earlier that he had planned, getting dressed in comfortable clothes, lifting weights, and smearing on tanning lotion and bronzer. He looked in the mirror and wondered if maybe the whole underground fighting club thing wasn’t as crazy as he had previously thought. He felt that even after the luck of the night before that he was more of a man for fighting. He didn’t truly understand it, but he yearned to fight again. He flexed his non-existent muscles in the bathroom mirror, frowning. He wanted to fight again and again, until he could truly call himself a fighter. In the moment of the fight, between his life flashing before his eyes and after he stepped out of the ring, his mind was blank. He was simply working on adrenaline and instincts and he loved it. He wanted to move away from thinking and go into simply doing. He came to a conclusion and ran out of the bathroom. He went into his office and opened the drawer he had been trying to stay away from. He pulled out the picture that had been haunting him and the files that had his failure written all over them and ripped them up. He grabbed his gun and shot them on the floor shooting holes into the hardwood. The shot blast echoed in his ears clearing the noises of his mind screaming at him and making the memories go away. He screamed, primitively and fell to the floor in grief, pounding his knuckles into the floor, futilely. He tried desperately to let out all of the grief he had held in for so long. He had never cried or grieved at all after their deaths and now

he was done. He screamed like every person he had ever known was dead and he wanted revenge. He did want revenge. He needed to solve this case to get even, to make himself sane again. He needed to shoot all the demons and ghosts that had followed him around for so long. He stood up, still angry, going to the door of his office. He walked out slamming the door behind him and looking back at the name written on the door. He growled in disagreement at it punching a hole in the door of his office, the glass breaking and shattering around his feet. He stormed down the stoop, running away, fearful that someone could call the cops. He began running, feeling the energy in his veins pushing him, every step, taking him a bit further. He ended up at Ginger’s doorstep, completely out of breath. He knocked at her door, urgently. She opened it, completely surprised. “Seward? What are you doing here? I thought I was going to get you? I thought I told you I didn’t want you here.” “What?” Seward said, still breathing hard. “Why wouldn’t you want me here?” Ginger sighed. “Come in. Are you okay? You’re really red.” She took him inside the apartment and led him into the kitchen where she took a coffee mug and filled it with tap water and handed it to him. “Drink, drink it slowly.” She said sitting up on the counter as Seward chugged the water. “Did something happen? Are you okay?” “I ran here.” Seward answered, finishing the water. “From where, your house?” Ginger said sarcastically. Seward nodded, taking her completely off-guard. “But that’s, like, six miles!” She exclaimed. “Here, come. Sit, sit.” She said leading him to her couch to sit down. He sat. “Why don’t you want me here?” Seward asked again looking at Ginger in the eye. “It’s not that. I just…” She shook her head and blushed. “I just

don’t want people to think that you’re my— anything, really. I don’t want people thinking my dad or boyfriend or husband or whatever comes to check up on me. I want my image to remain single and unencumbered. I mean, I don’t mind people seeing my lovers, but you don’t exactly look like the ‘lover’ kind, you know? People would jump to conclusions that I’d rather they didn’t, if you know what I mean.” “I thought that you didn’t care about what people think about you?” Seward said, confused. “Wow, Seward. You have to realize that I’m human. I might be more human than anyone you know. I’m arrogant, I lie, I can be really stupid sometimes, and my heart gets broken pretty easily. I may pretend to be a lot of things but the majority of them aren’t true. That’s the whole point of getting to know someone and falling in love, Seward. It’s telling the lies from the truth. That may be why no one wants to stick around me. They find out that I’m more lies than truth.” She smiled gently. “Or am I? Is the fact that I’m a lie, the real lie? Or is it the truth? What is truth, after all?” She smiled her Cheshire smile again and looked at her watch. “Oh, God. You’re really early. What are you doing here?” “Hiding out from the cops.” Seward said, as Ginger laughed. “No, I’m serious. I kind of started some trouble at home. I… fired my gun and broke my window to my office. I’m going to have to deal with it, eventually, but for right now, I could care less. I just need someplace to stay until the heat wears off. I’m a private detective; I know how these things work. Police have a thing against us, you know. They don’t want us solving the crimes that they can’t. They’re afraid to lose their monopoly on crime solving. They’ll do anything to cut us down, make us lose our licenses or throw us in jail. I’ve been in jail more times than I’d care to remember. I’m just not ready to do it again, right now, especially for destroying my own property.” “Whoa.” Ginger said, sitting next to Seward on the couch. She scratched her head and sighed. “That’s pretty extreme, Seward. I had no

idea that you were so tough. I could totally see you as one of those Sherlock Holmes detectives who really doesn’t do anything more than look at a few things and make a deduction, without any, like, super action moves, you know.” She smiled gently. “You just gained total respect points with me. We are totally going to solve this, aren’t we?” She got up, again. She went into what Seward assumed was the bedroom. “You should come in here, so we can talk.” She said from the other side of the wall. Seward got up warily and followed Ginger into the bedroom. Her bedroom was very similar to how Seward would have imagined it, had he. It’s not like he did, though. That would have been creepy. The room was painted several shades of purple and had bits and pieces of different things all over the walls. There were black and white photographs of people that Seward assumed Ginger knew, there were magazine cutouts of models and paintings all over the walls. There were scraps of fabric and clothes hung over every surface including a chair, bed, and vanity. Almost everything was a shade of purple except for the clothes, which were either much brighter or black. There was also paint over every surface, splattered over everything including tablature and music noted on the floor and pinned on the walls. Seward was so distracted by the room that he barely noticed the fact that Ginger was in the middle of the room taking her shirt off. When he noticed this, his eyes widened and he turned around instantly, remembering the scene in the bathroom. Ginger groaned. “Seward, I can’t talk to you unless you turn around, okay?” He sighed and composed himself to turn around. “So, anyway, as I was saying,” Ginger continued, getting dressed in comfortable clean clothes able to fight in. “You’re really multifaceted. I thought that you were a chauvinist pig, then a wimp, and now a brave man? You just keep surprising me.” She said winking at him and putting her clothes on. Seward was speechless. He had thought she had wanted to discuss the case but instead she was complimenting him? Or was she? Was she instead saying that he was wishy-washy and indecisive? He couldn’t tell. “Okay, I’m ready.” She said, grabbing a bag. “Is it weird that I’m wearing my yoga clothes to fight club?” She said, holding her arms open wide to show Seward her tight pink tank top and black stretchy pants. Seward shivered slightly, remembering the last time

he had done yoga in the Children of Love. He shook his head gently and began walking out of her room. “So what are we going to tell them? Am I showing up with you or just meeting you there?” “Huh? What do you mean?” “I mean, you were already there last night. Do I introduce myself as your wife or girlfriend and say that I’m really into MMA and was super interested? I mean, you did say that you were supposed to bring people, didn’t you? Or should I just go alone and meet you there and leave like your new girlfriend, or something? What do you think? The last time that I just gave me and you new identities you kind of freaked so I decided to ask you in advance this time.” “Well,” Seward said thinking about it deeply as they walked out the door. “We should say that you’re my girlfriend and I went originally to see if it was cool for you to go. I mean, I didn’t see any women there, but I don’t see why you couldn’t be there. It was also make Jon less suspicious, because he though I was hitting on him that night that I questioned him.” “Were you?” Ginger asked slyly with a big smile on her face. “No, I most definitely was not. I thought we cleared that up a few days ago.” Seward said with his arms crossed. “But you’re not against it, are you?” “For myself, I am.” Seward said stubbornly. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I also think that if I bring a girl with me the heat will call down from me winning the fight with the bouncer, Ambrose. Oh, do you have any money?” He said, remembering. “Yeah, a little. Why?” Ginger inquired. “Because you’re going to need to bet. I figure that they wouldn’t make a girl fight a man, so they’ll have to bend the rules a little bit. If you don’t want to fight, you’re probably going to have to bet.” Seward thought

a little more. “You probably shouldn’t come. It’s not a good idea.” “You said I could!” Ginger interjected. “What changed?” “We’re attracting too much unnecessary attention that could get us caught or thrown out!” Seward explained. “You’d be helpful there, but I don’t know if it’s worth the risk. I also don’t want to see you hurt. What if they make you fight tonight? I don’t want to see you hurt.” She smiled gently at him as they left the apartment. Seward back-peddled. “No, not like that, but… I would feel really guilty if you got hurt because of me.” She smiled anyway. “Stop looking at me like that! This whole thing has begun kind of weird. You’re old enough to be my daughter. Quit flirting with me.” She laughed gently. “Don’t feel special, Seward, I flirt with everyone. You know that we’d never work out anyway.” She skipped ahead of him, hailing a cab. “Wait, why wouldn’t we work?” Seward said running to catch up to her. She laughed again catching a cab. “Seward, let me explain this to you slowly.” She said getting into the cab, Seward following. “I am May and you are November. You’re old enough to be my father or something. Plus, I think of you as more of my mentor anyway. It’s just not cool to hook up with your teacher, or whatever.” “What if I wasn’t that much older or your mentor? How about then?” Seward asked curiously She smiled gently. “Oh, Seward.” She patted his shoulder and unrolled her window. She put her arms out the window feeling the breeze and putting her head there too. She rested her head on her crossed arms and closed her eyes, feeling like flying. “Ginger? Ginger?” Seward pressed, but instead just sank into his seat and put his head back. They arrived at the Episcopalian church

shortly. Ginger got out of the cab and skipping to the door, leaving Seward to pay the cabbie. Seward took a deep breath and pumped up his chest to enter the church. They walked to the door together in the dark, listening for the breathing of Ambrose, the doorkeeper. When they got to the door, Seward could barely make out the shape of Ambrose. He could first see the shape of his large figure and his tattoos but when he got closer, he could see that Ambrose had a vicious black eye and a bruised face. He also had a large white cast on his nose. He glared at Seward as Seward and Ginger walked up. “Did you do that?” Ginger whispered to Seward seeing Ambrose’s face. Seward nodded gently. The glare on Ambrose’s face bore a hole in Seward’s head as they walked up. Seward cleared his throat gently. “Fireflies.” He said the password with his eyes averted. “That’s not the password.” Ambrose said, keeping the door blocked. “What?” Seward said confused. “That’s the password you told me yesterday. How did it already change?” “Why, want to make something of it?” Ambrose said taking a step toward Seward. Seward sank back, wondering if this was some sort of a test and if he was supposed to hit Ambrose or if he should just tuck tail and leave. That second of indecision was all Ambrose needed. He took a step toward Seward and cocked his arm and went to hit Seward. Seward flinched as Ambrose’s fist landed a mere centimeter away from Seward’s face. Ambrose chuckled. “I’m just foolin’ around, man.” He said, lowering his fist and patting Seward on the back. “Chill out, dude. Last night was a good fight. You got seriously lucky. I see we have a new fighter?” Ambrose said pointing at Ginger who had fallen behind Seward. Seward nodded, still a bit afraid. “Well, I don’t get to fight this one.” He chuckled. “Oh, by the way, man, we never did shake after our fight last night.” He held out his hand in shaking position. Seward looked at him

apprehensively and decided to take it. They shook in solidarity and Ambrose laughed. “I really don’t take these things too seriously and neither should you. This whole thing is like fantasy anyway. You shouldn’t let it get you down and you shouldn’t hold a grudge. It’s when you take the fight club out into the real world when trouble starts.” Ambrose said. “I have a three-year-old daughter who’s my entire world. Even, though my marriage fell through and I got my ass kicked by someone who hasn’t ever fought in his entire life I don’t worry about it. The past is the past, so I’m not going to dredge that crap up now. It can’t possibly help anything.” Seward nodded, realizing he was right, but feeling like the past was indelible from the present. He looked down at his feet thinking about the bouncer’s philosophy. Ambrose opened the door and let them down the stairs. Seward was still lost in thought when Ginger took his arm in hers. He could hear the sounds that he had heard before and saw the teeth of the dogs right in his face. He felt how his reaction changed from before. Before, he saw innumerable cruelties and a picturesque version of how cruel the world could be, but now he just saw something apart from anything he had ever done, anyplace he’d ever been. Ginger was amazed and sickened looking from left to right and trying to come to terms with this kind of place. She instantly made up a lie about herself and tried to live it. She could see herself as an MMA fighter who had beaten thousands of girls to the ground. She could see the blood and pain and felt herself revel in it. She pulled the medical tape out of her bag, lacing it around her fists. She jumped up and down building her adrenaline and testosterone as she growled into the air. She watched the fight between the two men and howled at them jumping and cheering encouragement. Seward watched her, wondering what brought about the change. He had been looking around searching for Jon. He wondered if perhaps Jon wouldn’t come, was too busy trying to avoid Seward. He doubted it, after what he had said about the fight club. Out of the corner of his eye, Seward saw Jon walk down the stairs with some man, laughing and carrying on. Seward went to Ginger pulling her close. Ginger misjudged the situation and instead of

giving Seward her ear as he had wanted to whisper in, she gave her lips, kissing him hard. Seward was caught off guard, as well and fell into the kiss. He saw Jon, watching them and saw him smile a tight smile. Seward pulled away and whispered, “Good luck.” into Ginger’s ear. She smiled gently, slightly dazed from the kiss and went up to the ring, where the caller stood calling any new members into the ring. Ginger jumped over the ropes and told her name to the caller. “And now presenting, one of the first woman fighters we’ve seen at this location in a very long time, Ms. Fiadora Grant!” Ginger lifted her arms high, pumping them. The caller continued. “Since, this is Ms. Grant’s first night here, she has to fight, but we felt that Ambrose would not be a suitable opponent,” To this, there were boos in the crowd, “so we’ve brought out, the one, the only Roberta Giacometti!” Seward froze. The name couldn’t be just a coincidence. He was flashed back to three years prior when a similar name was a prime suspect on the last case he ever took before this one. He saw a rather large girl with her hair in cornrows and long braids take the stage. Her hair was auburn brown and she was around Ginger’s age, though she must have weighed at least two hundred pounds. He could tell immediately from the large almond eyes and shapely nose that she was indeed closely related to the prime suspect on the last case and the new prime suspect on this one. He realized where the ties to organized crime came in, because that was the main reason for the suspicion in the last case. He was directly, (or as directly as one could be suspected to be) connected to a sect of the Mob that was involved in several illegal activities all around the city including drug smuggling from Canada and illegal underground fighting clubs taking place in the basements of Episcopalian churches. Seward turned back to the present where a man was asking if he’d like to place a bet. He took the last twenty from his wallet and bet it all on Ginger’s victory. He glared at Roberta and screamed, “You can do it, Honey!” to Ginger. She winked at him, nervously, fastening her hair tightly into a ponytail and clenching her fists.

Ginger growled at Roberta, bouncing on the balls of her feet, back and forth. Roberta just stood her ground, heavily, just waiting for Ginger to get close enough to hit her. Ginger stepped close to her quickly and slapped Roberta. Roberta was angered stepping closer and taking a hard swing at Ginger. Ginger moved quickly out of the way, taking Roberta off guard and punching her hard right on the check. Roberta’s entire body swung away and Ginger high-kicked her in the back where she fell flat on the floor in the center of the ring. Ginger got down on her knees, straddling Roberta and picking her up by her hair and slamming her face into the ground again and again. She heard Roberta gurgle out, “Stop!” and Ginger stopped standing over her victoriously. She lifted her arms as the bettors yelled both in victory and in loss. Seward felt his pride beaming out of him, until he saw Roberta’s foot kick out and trip Ginger. Ginger fell to the floor on her knees with a sharp cry. Roberta got up, her face covered with blood, and grabbed Ginger by the ponytail. Ginger cried again, as Roberta lifted her to her feet. Ginger scratched and slapped at Roberta’s hands but her tries were futile. Roberta lifted Ginger all the way up and threw her against the edge of the ring. Ginger groaned trying to get up quickly and maintain her composure. Seward tried to cry for someone to end the fight; it was unfair, because Roberta had already cried for Ginger to stop the fight. Ginger got up trying to take Roberta down again. Roberta smacked Ginger in the face and pushed her down. Ginger got up again and grabbed Roberta by the shirt and pulling her close to her face and punched her hard in the face so hard that Roberta was instantly knocked out. Seward cheered for Ginger loudly as she left the ring. He grabbed her and hugged her hard. She smiled deeply as the payers came by and paid off Seward the sixty dollars that he was owed. “Good job.” Seward said to Ginger, gently. “Thanks.” She replied and hugged him closer. “Oh, crap. I’m getting blood all over you. Sorry.” She said pulling away wiping a cut on her head and her busted lip.

“I don’t care.” Seward said, pulling her into the hug, again. She snuggled into his shoulder and went to whisper in his ear. “We got some attention, now didn’t we?” Ginger whispered pointing at some men in suits that had gathered around the ring. Seward was immobilized when he recognized one of the men to be Robert Giacometti. Not only that, but that he was walking straight towards them. “Good fight.” Giacometti said to Ginger shaking her hand. “I’ve never seen anyone beat my daughter so bad that she gives up. I applaud you.” He said, fixing his tie. “And who is this?” He asked, acknowledging Seward. “Oh, this is my fiancé Franklin Hope. He fought last night, and invited me tonight. And you are?” “Oh, I’m Robert Giacometti. I founded this sect of the group.” “Can I talk to your fiancé, momentarily? We need to exchange words.” “Oh, this isn’t because of me, is it?” Ginger said, batting her eyelashes at Giacometti. “I didn’t mean to start any trouble.” “You didn’t. It’s of monetary concern. We can speak in my office.” He said to Seward gesturing him into a small room attached. Ginger looked confused, but allowed Seward to go. She gestured a phone to him, to say to call if there was any trouble. When they got into the office, Giacometti closed the door and sat in the large chair behind the desk and put his feet up. Seward sat uncomfortably in the chair opposite him.

Giacometti got straight to business. “Franklin Hope? Really, Detective Seward? Who’s the girl, a new sidekick?”

Seward shook his head. “Girlfriend.” He said covering. Giacometti laughed. “I never thought you had it in you, Seward! Well, I never thought I’d see you again. How’ve you been? Well, obviously not well after… that terrible tragedy that happened. They ever catch who did that? I heard you gave up. This a new case or come to harass me about old ghosts?” Seward croaked through a dry throat. “New case.” “Same old Seward, just like a dog chasing cars. Ever caught one, Seward? I hear you used to be good but you’ve lost your touch. What’s the new case?” “Manuel Silver.” Seward whispered. “He was murdered.” “And how exactly am I connected to this one this time?” “This is your fight club, isn’t it?” “This fight club isn’t anyone’s. It belongs to anyone who shows up to fight. There’s no one ‘leader’ or person who started it. It’s not a conspiracy to do anything. It rose from the ashes of several men who’s lives didn’t feel like they really mattered anymore. I’m sure you can understand that, Seward. Haven’t you ever thought that all ‘manhood’ is anymore is the ability to stand while peeing? We’ve set out to change that through showing what masculinity is all about.” Seward cleared his throat trying to get up his guts. He sat up straight and looked Giacometti straight in the eye. “What about the bets, Robbie? Is that what men are all about? Illegal gambling? I could lock you up right now, just for that. I can also prove that you told Manuel to throw a fight so you can make major profits. It’s kind of like insider trading, but the thing was that Manny didn’t throw the fight, now did he? You paid him off and he won and took all the profits. You had to have hated him. He made a fool out of you. Did you just sit back and let that happen? Or did you get even? You went and found him and murdered him in cold

blood and chopped up his body and left him in the freezer? It’s nothing new to you, is it?” “What, Seward? What isn’t new to me?” “Murder.” “Not this again!” Robbie said throwing down his drink and sticking his cigar between his teeth. “I told you three years ago I never murdered anyone and I never murdered anyone now!” Robbie got up and began to pace. “Sure, I’ll admit to the gambling and maybe I sent some men to rough Manny up, but they left him alive. He called me the next day, to tell me to stay out of his life. I did. I haven’t seen him since.” “Do you have an alibi for the night he was murdered?” “Yeah, I was here. I was watching Felix and Gregg fight it out. I remember because Felix had to go to the Emergency Room that night. Gregg had smashed his face so hard that shards of bone went into Felix’s brain. It was Felix’s last fight that night. He’s alive, but… he’ll never fight again, I’ll say that much.” “How can you be a part of this? How can you watch these young men come in, fresh and healthy and you watch them kill each other? I… I just don’t get it.” “You fought, haven’t you?” Seward nodded. “It was exhilarating, wasn’t it? Made you feel like man?” Seward nodded again, guiltily. “Well, that’s what I’m trying to give to the world. I’m trying to make them feel strong again, make them feel like their in control. That’s the ultimate goal in life, isn’t it, to be completely control? That’s what I’ve always thought. It’s the reason for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and eating disorders and self-mutilation. I give these men and women a way to have control over their lives in a non-harmful way. Fight club is it’s own economy, its own world of wins and losses. Do you feel like you were a part of something harmful, when you fought? Or did it truly help you?”

Seward blushed, trying to see what Giacometti was saying as simply propaganda, but he simply couldn’t. He felt the positive benefits of fighting and had a hard time saying anything against it. “It helped me.” He said uncomfortably, squirming in his seat. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not wrong.” He sat up straight again. “It’s illegal and people are getting hurt. If I shot heroin it would do the same thing for me, but that doesn’t make it right. The betting is just setting up people to get hurt and lose a lot of money. We’re in a recession, sir, people are dying everyday because of money. This fight club has to end, or people will die. I’m not saying that I’m going to call the cops, but if I know that you had anything to do with Manuel’s death, I will shut you down.” Seward threatened. Giacometti looked at Seward in fear and shivered gently. “What? No! You can’t shut us down! Whatever will we do?” Giacometti looked near tears until he broke into bursts of laughter. “Really, Seward? You think that this place could ever die? You think these kind of places ever die? If it’s illegal, people will do it. If it makes someone happy, they’ll do it, no matter what the side effects. This is bigger than underground fight clubs, bigger than money, bigger than anything you’ve ever known. I’ll tell you exactly what I told you the last time, Seward: stay out of it. For your own good, just leave this alone. I didn’t do it, but it may have been someone connected to organized crime.” Seward went to jump on Giacometti’s words. “No, Seward, really. Stay out of it. You’ll get hurt, I’ll get hurt. No possible good could come of this. Investigate elsewhere. You can find the murdered elsewhere but don’t get involved here. I don’t want you around this fight club, anymore. I don’t need you starting trouble for me or for you. Ambrose!” He called and the bouncer came in through the door. “Ambrose, please escort Detective Seward and his female companion out of here.” Ambrose looked at Seward confusedly and went to grab his arms. He took Seward by the arms and began carrying him away. “Sorry, man. I feel for you, I really do.” Ambrose said carrying him out. Ambrose gestured to another man, to take Ginger by the arms.

Ginger looked at Seward and tried to pull away from her captor. “Let me go!” She yelled, pulling and trying to claw and scratch. “Get away, I’ve done nothing wrong! This is a conspiracy to get rid of all the good fighters! You’re just mad I beat your daughter! Let me go! Do you know who I am? Who my father is? I’m an heiress to an oil fortune and daddy will not be happy!” She screamed the entire time they pulled her away. Seward was silent and unresisting. They pulled Seward and Ginger and threw them right out of the Episcopalian church. “And don’t come back, guys. The higher-ups don’t want you around. I’m really sorry about this guys.” Ambrose said leaving them and slamming the door behind them. Ginger sat on her butt on the cold ground. “Why didn’t you fight? What happened?” Ginger asked angrily. “I was having fun and you totally interrupted me! They owe me money! They owe you money, too, don’t they? What happened in that office?” “They don’t owe me money. I already got it.” Seward said with his head hanging low, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket. Ginger went down a level, trying to calm herself. “Seward, what happened? Why did they kick us out?” “It went all wrong. I… I knew the guy who was in charge. He… was the main suspect in the last case I took. I don’t know what to do.” Seward explained the situation to Ginger and she sighed putting her hands in her hair. “Whoa, harsh. What are you going to do?” Ginger said confusedly playing with her hair. “We can’t go back to the fight club. How are we going to get in there?” “I do know that the Giacometti sect of the Mob was involved in a prostitution ring.” Seward said shyly. “No!” Ginger said getting up from the curb. “No, no, no, no, no,

no. I’m not doing it, Seward. I never signed up for this. Forget it. I quit. If that’s what I have to do, I quit!” Ginger started walking away. “Wait! Let’s think about this.” Seward said and Ginger turned around, crossing her arms. “This isn’t our only option. They don’t know you as well as they know me, so you’re our only hope. It’s either you be a prostitute or a drug dealer or figure out another plan for us.” “I’d rather sell drugs than sell my body, I know that much.” Ginger said stubbornly. Seward sat on the curb where Ginger was sitting before. “All right. Maybe they’re more likely to take a girl drug-dealer, anyway. We just need an insider into the inter-workings of the Mob world. I tried to do this in the last case and it didn’t seem to work. They found out who I was, pretty easily. I’m not really the kind of guy that can go incognito well.” Ginger sat next to Seward on the curb. “And I am? Will I have to change my hair? I really, really don’t want to have to change my hair, you know.” She said touching her fringe self-consciously. “We could get you a wig. I have a really good costume guy. They have everybody on the lookout for me, now. I told Giacometti that you’re my girlfriend. I’m not exactly sure he believed me, though.” Seward looked around and stood up. “We shouldn’t be plotting right here. The walls could have ears, you know?” He said getting up and beginning to walk away. “We’ll discuss this at my office. Hopefully, the cops are gone already, otherwise, ‘Oh, my God! I have no idea why someone would come in and trash my house! It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last!’” He sneered. “Come on, Babycakes. Let’s take off.” Ginger got up and put her arm around Seward’s shoulder. “Who are you and what did you do with Detective Seward?” They both laughed and took off to plot.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Hey, want to buy some drugs?” Lizzie, the tall girl with a black bob hairdo and green eyes, said opening her trench coat revealing lots of baggies of oregano and pixie stix. Seward laughed. “Really? You’re going to be that blunt about it, Lizzie?” He said patting Ginger’s shoulder. “Try it again. This time, try to be more subtle about it.” “Hey, you looking for something?” Ginger AKA Lizzie said, trying to be more subtle picking her head up gently. “Now, you’re better off being a prostitute, Lizzie!” Seward said breaking down into giggles again. “Okay, let’s do some questioning. Where were you born?” “Compton.” Lizzie said trying to sound like a gangster. “I’ve found that freelance drug-selling wasn’t as profitable as being part of a drug cartel, you know? So, I want to join up! I’m ready to sell as much (many?) drugs as humanly possible, man. Yeah, I’m a gangsta’!” Lizzie said, popping her collar. Seward fell to the floor his face turning red, making a choking sound. “Seward?” Ginger said, falling out of her gangster voice. “Are you okay?” She ran over to where he was on the floor rolling around. “Seward, oh my god!” She said watching his face turning purple. “What do you want me to do? Should I call nine one one?” She said feeling his pulse. He slapped away her hands taking a breath and letting out roaring laughter. “Seward!” She said slapping him, hard. “I thought you were dying.” “Ha ha hah ha ha!” He laughed, his face gaining color gently. “Oh my God, I’ve never—” He broke down into laughter again having laughter seizures. Ginger got up angrily taking the trench coat off. “Never mind. I

can’t do this. I’m not a drug-dealer. This whole thing was a stupid idea.” She said sitting in a chair angrily. “What are we going to do?” “Well,” Seward said, getting himself together and getting himself up off the floor. “The whole prostitution thing is still an option.” “That’s so gross, though! Why don’t you prostitute yourself?” She said cheekily. “I can’t do that sort of thing. If I can’t even sell drugs, how am I going to sell myself? I’d be equally as bad at it, I’m sure of it.” “All right, so what are we going to do?” “Wait, I think I have an idea.” Seward said. “What if…” He put his elbows on his desk. “Okay, so what if you’re family with the Mob?” “But I’m not.” Ginger said, confused. “But what if you were adopted, because your mother gave you up for adoption.” “How would that get me into the Mob?” “Wait up. Let me think this through.” Seward said stirring his mug of coffee, deep in thought. “So your real mother, your birth mother was raped by a Mob member and then had you, making you part of the family. You never knew this until you turned eighteen who your birth parents were. Your birth mother, who became an esteemed essayist, sought you out and found you telling you that your birthright became one of the leading Mob connections in the state. You decided to seek out your father to see if you could become a part of an organized crime syndicate.” “Wow, that’s almost too convoluted.” Ginger said, “Convoluted, but brilliant. I don’t know if I can pull this off.” Ginger pulled the short bob off. “I figure that I don’t need the costume with this plan. I can just pretend that I had gone out with you to get closer to the Mob through the fight club. I didn’t get what your whole vendetta was about, but I just wanted to find my true father. I feel owed, entitled to the money and

prestige in the Mob that is mine. What’s my name, though?” “You can use the same name, you used before. You’re Fiadora Grant but you’re real birthright name is Fiadora Giacometti. You knew from the moment that you saw Robert Giacometti that you were related to him, or maybe that he was your real father!” Seward was on a roll here. “But if they catch me, if they find out that I’m not really his daughter I’ll be killed! Private detectives don’t get Witness Protection protection do they?” Ginger said and Seward shook his head. “This is scary. I don’t want to get killed because of this. How will I protect myself?” “Do you have a crime record? I mean, under the name Ginger Bailey?” “No, I don’t commit crimes. That’s why I decided to join you. I figure that it’s not a generally good idea for a detective to have a crime record.” “I have a crime record.” Seward said shyly. “Really? What’d you do?” Ginger said. “Any good detective has a criminal record. Breaking into houses to find clues, holding people even though you’re not really a police officer, the whole act of being a detective is practically illegal.” “Wow, I had no idea. Well, since I’m new, I thought it would be bad if I had a crime record to start with. I’m pretty much a good girl.” She said shrugging. “What happened to you?” Seward said. “You are no longer a good girl. Getting drunk, fighting, and pretending to be an heiress to a mobster. You’re no longer very innocent.” Seward said with a small grin. “Oh, please, Seward.” She grinned. “You haven’t seen anything

yet.” She laughed and went to grab her coat. “When should we do this? Right now? I was thinking right now. Oh,” She frowned gently. “I just realized you can’t really help me, can you? If they see you they’ll kill me.” “Yeah, I’m afraid that’s the case.” Seward said. “But I have an idea to get around that.” He said getting up from his chair. “Follow me.” She followed close behind taking her coat off and throwing it on the couch. “Where are we going?” Ginger asked following Seward up the stairs. He went into his bedroom and went straight for the closet. “What’s in here?” She said as she saw Seward get on his knees and crawl into the closet. Ginger looked around the closet. She saw Seward’s clothes mixed with women’s clothes. “Whose clothes is this?” She asked curiously looking through the woman’s clothes. “She had good taste. I mean, for her living a long time ago. Was she your wife? Girlfriend? She break up with you and not take her clothes?” Ginger asked but realized that Seward was already gone. “Seward? Seward, where’d you go?” She got on her knees and crawled into the closet looking for Seward. “Seward?” She said and she could hear a faint voice from far away. She followed Seward past all the long coats and dresses into a large hole in the back of the closet. She crawled all the way into the dark, still not seeing Seward at the back of the closet. Finally she could feel the soles of his shoes in the dark and see a small night light glowing gently. She could see and feel Seward moving to a sitting position and then standing. Ginger felt her way against the wall and tried to stand, too. The space was so small that she was squeezed in very close to Detective Seward. “Um… hi.” She said awkwardly pressed against his chest. “Hi.” He said, trying to move away from her, afraid that he would touch her inappropriately in the dark. He went over to a large shelf and pulled a cord turning on a large light bulb in the ceiling. The sudden brightness in the room caused Ginger to cringe and cover her eyes. “God, Seward! You really should warn a girl before you do something like that!” She said rubbing away the dots in her eyes.

“Sorry,” He said reaching for the shelf again squeezing past Ginger. “So this is what I brought you here for.” He said gesturing to her to go the small shelf. She tried to press past him and keep a distance between themselves. He gestured to a series of small electronic devices including small pin cameras. “I only ever used these if the case required an insider and I would often use a fellow experienced detective. It’s been so long since I’ve done actually detective work that all my connections are gone. For all I know all the experienced detectives I know are retired or dead!” He snorted. “Who knows?” He said and pulled out several cameras and microphones into his hands. “There is no way that I could get these on you in here. We need to test them too. Let’s get out of here.” He said and pulled the cord turning the lights of. For a split second in the dark he could feel her hand gentle on his and he wondered if it was on purpose. He didn’t know what to do. He knew that he couldn’t get involved with that young girl that was his assistant. He got on his knees and began crawling out of the small closet. Ginger followed closely, not making a sound. When they got out Seward wiped the dust away off of his clothes. “It’s been awhile since I did that.” He said with a small smile. “I’m sure it has.” Ginger said and pretend-punched his shoulder and began removing the dust from her clothes too. Seward began to pull out all of the electronics he had saved from the closet and dust them off as well. “Want to try one on?” Seward said pulling out a small butterfly necklace and gesturing for Ginger to turn around. He fixed the clasp and Ginger turned around for him to see. “It looks really nice on you.” He said trying to hide his blush. “Does it really? Thanks. This is really a camera?” She asked fingering it lightly. “”Yeah, it transmits a picture to this little screen here. If any trouble starts I’ll go right to where you are and take care of it.” “Wow, I feel so protected.” Ginger said blushing gently.

“You should.” Seward said touching the necklace again, seeing that the lens was clean. Ginger looked down at his hand and took a step closer to him. “Seward? Remember how I told you that whole May-November thing?” He nodded, dazed. “Maybe I was wrong.” She said and pulled him into a gentle kiss. They began kissing and fell down on the bed. Seward tried to extricate himself from the situation but Ginger pulled him back. They kissed for a long minute until Ginger pulled away with a small cry. She got up from the bed. “No!” She cried and turned away. “This is so messed up. I know that this is so wrong. I should really go.” She said and started to walk down the stairs. “Wait! Stop, Ginger. I’m so sorry. I mean, I didn’t expect that to happen. I really didn’t. You have to believe me. I really didn’t mean for that to happen.” Seward stumbled over his words as he ran down the stairs after her. She grabbed her coat off the chair and touched the butterfly necklace. “I need to go, Seward. I mean, I’ll do what I said I had to do, but I can’t be here right now. I’m going to go to the fight club and talk to Robert tonight. You can watch through the camera but I’ll come up with the plan of action on my own. I can do this, Seward. I can do this because I have to. I’ll meet up with you later, okay?” She said and left the house, leaving Seward there with his mind reeling.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Detective Seward sat in his office staring at the small screen from the camera waiting for it to turn on from it receiving a signal from Ginger. He played with it in his hands checking his phone in his pocket. He

figured that Ginger would most likely call him to inform him that she was going to the fight club to tell Giacometti that she was his long lost daughter or some sorts. He wondered what her plan was and how she was going to go about trying to find out who killed Manuel. He wondered if this case would somehow have a snowball effect on the other case and that case would be solved along with the downfall of this particular organized crime sect. He smiled and closed his eyes hoping for a good outcome on all parts and putting the hope of the case on Ginger’s shoulders. He sat back putting his feet on the desk and looked at his watch. It was only six o’clock. He realized that it would be at least three hours until Ginger would be going to the fight club so he had plenty of time. He felt his eyelids grow heavy and felt the need for an afternoon nap. He set a small alarm clock next to his couch and sprawled out closing his eyes. He turned on the television for background noise and put his head in his hands and drifted off to sleep. Seward awoke to a deafening crash and the peals of breaking glass. He awoke with a fright and could see that moonlight was flooding through the windows. He looked at his watch and could see that it was around midnight. He wondered why his cell phone alarm didn’t go off and he worried about Ginger. He sat up, quickly remembering the breaking of glass and went into his coat pocket where he found the pistol loaded and ready for use. He walked into the kitchen where the sound of broken glass had originated. “Hello?” Seward called, wondering if it had been a burglar of what that had broken in. His mind was still a bit fuzzy from sleep, but he could see the broken glass all over the floor and counter. He could also see that it was raining outside and the rain was beginning to puddle inside the kitchen. He looked outside the broken window to see if perhaps someone had simply broken the window or if someone had broken in. He found a large rock inside and breathed a bit easier seeing that someone had simply broken the window from the inside. He could see that around the rock there was a note tied around. He rolled his eyes preparing himself for a threatening note. He untied the note and uncrumpled the paper straining his eyes to see the words written on the paper. He could see only three

letters on the paper making his eyes widen. He threw the paper to the floor looking around as the paper reading, ‘BOO’ blew away into the rainy evening. “I have a gun!” Seward yelled to the empty house, cringing at the sound of thunder roaring outside. “I’ve already called the cops! They’re on their way and they are so pissed!” He yelled looking around. He could hear footsteps but couldn’t discern where they were coming from. He started backing up into the staircase. He heard the thunder roar again and he sprinted up the stairs running into his room. He could see figures come closer and closer to him. “What are you doing? Please, Oh, God. Don’t make me hurt you!” He yelled aiming the gun. He heard the gun go off and then felt someone pull the gun away from himself. He felt arms all over him and he tried to escape. He roared pain. Felt glass and saw the world go black. Seward awoke to a white, bright room. “Where am I?” He muttered gently keeping his eyes closed. He could hear to gentle beeping of the heart rate monitor and felt the tubes and cords attached to himself. He winced in pain, feeling a distinct pain in his leg and feeling that it was hoisted up. “Oh, Seward.” He heard a familiar voice say gently and tearfully. “Ginger? Oh god, Ginger. What happened? Where am I?” Seward said trying to clear his head but realizing that he was probably drugged. “Seward, you went crazy.” “What? What are you talking about?” Seward said still fuzzy. “I don’t remember what happened.” He said. “You—” Ginger’s voice broke. “You tried to kill yourself. You jumped out of the window. Do you remember that? Why would you do that, Seward?” “I… don’t remember, Ginger, I swear I don’t.” Ginger was crying. “I swear, you didn’t have to do that. Did you

think that you couldn’t solve the case? I- I put my life on the line for you, for this case and you- you give up on me?” “I didn’t, Ginger, I swear. I can’t- I don’t remember anything at all. I must have fallen on my head or something or…” He attempted to remember. “Someone pushed me. I think someone threw me out of the window.” “Seward,” Ginger said getting up disgusted. “Don’t lie to me. The doctors know what they’re talking about. They… they committed you. After they put the cast on you they’re putting you in the mental ward.” “Cast?” Seward said and looked down at his leg that was in a sling above the bed. “You broke your leg. You’re so lucky that you didn’t actually kill yourself.” She turned away. “Well, I guess you really aren’t lucky, if that was your goal. I’m done, Seward. I can’t deal with this, anymore. Go and get better. I…” She sobbed. “I thought I actually loved you, but how can anyone love someone who doesn’t love themselves? She started crying into her collar. “I can’t. I’ll solve the case, but not for you. I’m going to solve it for Melissa like I wanted to in the first place. Someone has to find who killed Manuel. You’ve given up on the case. You’ve given up on yourself, Seward. I’m ashamed at you.” She said and walked out the door. He could hear her heels clacking on the floor all the way down the hallway along with the sound of her crying. He put hiss head back trying to remember what happened. He remembered dealing with the Mob and the mobsters entering his home. He remembered going up to his room and trying to evade them and pulling out his gun to try and get them away. He fired the gun once and then his mind went blank. “The Mob.” He said to the empty room. “Oh my God. Nurse! Nurse!” The nurse ran in. “Yes, sir? What’s going on?”

“I have to go, I have to go. They can’t find me. They’ll kill me. The Mob is going to kill me. Please, you have to believe me. I have to get out of here. They tried to kill me once and they’ll try to kill me again. Please, oh please. Just get me out of here. I have to leave the city, the state, the country. They’ll come after me. They’ll try to kill me.” “Sir, sir, you’ve got to calm down.” He was secured to the bed and was trying to get out of his bindings. The nurse tried to hold him down. “Sir, sir. Calm down! I need some help in here!” She yelled. Seward was bucking and trying to escape. A large doctor walking in grabbed a long needle and put it into his arm. “No, no. Please, don’t. They’ll kill me. They will. They…” His world started going gray. “Please. I… Annabelle… Sammy… I didn’t. I swear I…” He passed out, everything going black.

Seward awoke in a very white room. He tried to move his arms finding he was bound again, this time to a larger bed. He turned his head and saw an old man on a matching bed next to him biting his nails. “Where am I? Seward questioned wanting to be set free. He could see that a window was behind his spilling light into the room. “What happened?” The man was silent. “Sir? Are you a doctor? Why did they move me?” Seward asked again. “Doctors and nurses and politicians and hunters, they’re all the same, all the same.” The man muttered. “Bloodthirsty. Bloodthirsty and dirty. Filthy, disgusting, they all smell like moldy cheese. They’re all… What? Did you say something? Mama? Are you there?” The man looked around. “Mama, I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill you. It was Henry, Mama. It wasn’t me.” The man pulled the blankets over his head. “Don’t hit me, Mama.” He said, muffled from the blankets. “Is this a mental institution?” Seward asked, still wondering how

he ended up there. He could hear Ginger’s words in his mind. “You went crazy, Seward.” He told himself, echoing Ginger. “I didn’t try to kill myself.” “‘I didn’t try to kill myself.’” The man in the room echoed. “I didn’t try to kill myself. I didn’t try to kill myself. I didn’t try to kill myself. I didn’t try to kill myself. I did! I did kill myself! I’m dead. I’m dead! I’m Jesus, resurrected!” He cackled and jumped up and down on the bed still under the sheets. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Seward said, wanting to cover his ears but finding that he couldn’t. “Let me out! I’m sane. They’re after me but I’m sane! I swear to God, I’m sane! Please, let me out.” Seward said, in tears. The man just laughed. “The doctor is in, the doctor is in. The crazy’s are here, but the doctor is in.” He sang over and over. Seward tried to get his wits together but being bound to the bed and the sedatives they gave him made him blurry headed. “I don’t know what to do. I should have never taken the case. I shouldn’t have.” He was in tears, while the other man wreaked havoc and screamed the most absurd things jumping around the walls. All of a sudden, the door opened. “I swear, Charlie, if you do not settle down right now, we will drop you a level!” A nurse yelled into the room. She looked right at Seward whose tear-streaked face was full of terror. “Oh, Mr. Seward, you’re awake. You weren’t supposed to wake up for another hour or so. The doctor will take you in a little while. If I take off your bindings will you hurt yourself again?” Seward shook his head. “All right.” She said and undid his arms. “Welcome to St. Mary’s Psychiatric Center. You’re a level one. No sharp objects, visitors, or grounds privileges. You have to stay in your room until a nurse comes to get you for your appointment with the doctor. We’ll come in and check you every fifteen minutes. Enjoy your stay.” The nurse said and left the room. Seward stayed lying but turned on

his side facing the wall. He tried to hold in the tears but he felt so afraid of the future and ashamed of the past that he just let himself cry. He thought of ways to get out of this situation and then wondered if he really wanted to. He found that his leg was in a large cast. He bit his lip, wondering what Ginger was doing to try to solve the case. He wondered if he’d even still need to solve the case if he ever got out of this place. He could remember the mobsters with their guns and the possibility that maybe he had jumped, simply to save himself a more painful death. He couldn’t remember. He struggled so desperately to remember but the only recollection came from seeing the hurt in Ginger’s face after he had been placed in the hospital. He could hear her voice telling him that she loved him. He wondered how. He wondered if she loved him like a mentor, a father, or a lover. He couldn’t help but feel a strong attachment to the girl who had gone so far to help out in a case she had so little to actually do with. He could remember her smile and the way she could so easily make him laugh when he hadn’t laughed in so long. Then, he felt tremendously guilty for betraying the last woman he had loved. He remembered her long blonde hair, her laugh and he cried harder. He had let down so many people in his life and he didn’t know what to do to make it up to them. He still felt the drive to solve the case but put in the position he was in now, he couldn’t help but feel helpless. It wasn’t just the mental institution, but escaping a mental ward in a leg cast? That would be difficult. He tried to straighten up and get a hold of himself. He pulled himself into a sitting position on the bed and wiped the tears from his face. He tried to plot what he was going to do next. He needed to seem sane. It was the only way he could think of to get out of the mental ward. He tried to think of ways he wouldn’t seem insane or ways that he could prove that he didn’t actually try to kill himself. As he plotted he could hear the man in his room muttering and talking to himself. Seward pulled himself together and attempted to talk to the man. He felt that maybe this man would be a helpful ally if ever he would have to escape the mental hospital. “Charlie? Is that your name?”

“No, no. I’m not Charlie. I’m not Charlie. Charlie is bad. Charlie is a bad, bad boy. I’m resurrected. I’m Jesus. My name is Jesus. I am the son of God, not man, not woman. My God, why hast thou forsaken me? Why? What have I done wrong?” “Um… all right, Jesus. How long have you been here?” Seward said, trying to be friendly. “Seventy-three years! I’ve been here for seventy-three years!” The man said standing up on the bed, like he was preaching to a large crowd. Seward was shocked. “You’ve been in this hospital for seventythree years?” “No! On Earth. The mother ship left me here seventy-three years ago. I was borne of the king and queen of Quasnar but they decided to give me a super, secret mission on Earth. I am to watch and observe humans in their natural state. I have seen the gutters and the harshest of the harsh things. My earth mother told me that I wasn’t made for earth. She’s right. She was right. She wasn’t either. She was made for hell and that’s where she is, now. I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it! Charlie is a good boy. Charlie is a good boy!” He sat on the bed holding his knees and rocking. “Charlie’s not a bad boy, Mama. I didn’t do it. Carrie did it, Mama. I promise. I didn’t do it. I am Jesus, son of God. Ha-ha.” He laughed and hid under the bed. “I’ll get ‘em! I’ll get the bad guys! The warriors, the doctors. I’ll get them with my M-16! BAM! BAM! BAM!” He imitated holding a gun and blasting imaginary opponents with his imaginary gun. “Get em’ all! Get them and put them away in box, tie it with a bow and cover the entire thing with duct tape. The can hear us. They have bugs in the walls. They can hear us. They can hear us through the walls. Can you see? I see them. They want me. They want my blood. Don’t let them take me. Please. I’m a good boy.” Seward sighed. There was no way this man could possibly help him in any way. He tried to see if he could make his way off the bed to get up at least to look at the window. He shifted his body gently off the bed and felt the extra weight of

the cast on his leg weighing heavily on the floor. He winced in pain as he tried to stand up. The cast slipped from under him and he fell painfully to the floor on his knee. “Damn!” He swore, lying in the floor in agony. Charlie began wailing and a nurse came in. “Seward! What are you doing down there?” “I’m having a tea party. What does it look I’m doing?” He growled in pain. The nurse sneered at him. “This is what happens when impatient men get too big for their britches, now isn’t it?” She said attempting to lift him into a wheelchair a second nurse wheeled in. “Ugh.” She grunted trying unsuccessfully to lift him. “I’m going to need a doctor in here!” She called. “I think you ate a few too many Twinkies, Mr. Seward, haven’t you?” She said out of breath. “It’s Detective Seward.” Seward grumbled. “I’m a detective, nurse. I’m a very sane detective.” He tried to help her by trying to pull himself off the floor. “Yes, I’m sure you are, Mr. Seward. You’re a detective, your roommate is the son of God, and I’m Oprah Winfrey.” She said and Seward stopped trying to help. He tried to will himself to be heavier so it would be more difficult for the nurse to get him up. A doctor came into the room. “What happened here?” The doctor asked seeing Seward on the floor and the nurse with sweat on her forehead. “Mr. Seward felt it necessary to jump off his bed, like he did with the window.” The nurse smirked. “Now he’s being obstinate and not helping me get him into the wheelchair so he can miss his meeting with you, Doctor.”

“Is that so, Nurse Celine? Thanks, I’m pretty sure I can get him into the chair, now.” The doctor said leaning down and putting Seward’s arm around his shoulder. He hefted Seward up and into the chair in one swift motion. “I’ll take him down to the office. Thanks for your help.” Nurse Celine gave Seward a dirty look the entire way down the hallway. Seward looked up at the doctor and could tell that he hadn’t been a doctor for very long. He seemed to be in his early thirties and still had a trendy haircut and a gleam in his eyes. “I’m not crazy, you know.” Seward tested on the doctor to see what he would say to that. “Is anyone? If someone who is crazy thought that they were crazy then that would make them sane, now wouldn’t it? Also, if someone sane thought that they were crazy that probably makes them crazy, now doesn’t it? It kind of makes you question the sanity of anyone and everyone, now doesn’t it?” The doctor smiled a wide grin of gleaming teeth. He wheeled Seward right into a small orange office and closing the door. The doctor sat at a large desk with a nameplate on it that said Dr. Montgomery Swift. “So, if you’re not crazy, then why did you jump off a building?” He asked still smiling gently. “I didn’t. At least, I don’t think I did.” Seward was trying to be honest but was finding it difficult. “Okay, so here’s what happened:” Seward said and tried to explain. “The Mob was after me, after I sent Ginger to go and do some detective work on them. See they killed Manuel Silver and they also killed…” He stopped drifting off. “Anyway, they wanted to kill me because I know too much, you see? I have to get out of here because they know where I am. I mean, they have to know where I am. Maybe this was their plan all along. Maybe they just wanted to put me in a mental institution where no one will believe me. I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to do here and I know that I probably sound completely insane and that’s going to make you want to keep me in here but I’m being honest. I need some sort of help. I need you to let me out of here so I can do my job. People could be killed! There’s still a crazy

psycho killer out there and I need to get them. Please you have to let me out of here.” Seward begged. The doctor looked at Seward and wrote a small note on his pad of paper. “Here, Seward. Take this to the nurse outside and she’ll deal with you.” “Wait? Does this mean that you believe me? Can I get out now?” Seward said looking down at the cast on his leg and wheelchair, wondering if he could take that with him. “Just give this to the nurse outside and she will take care of you. See you around, Seward.” The doctor said and handed the note to Seward. Seward filled with hope as he took the small folded note and wheeled out of the office. Nurse Celine was waiting outside with a lupine grin in her small glass covered office with a small hole for doling out medications. He went to hand the note with a cocky smile on his face and a spin in his wheels. Nurse Celine looked at the note and smiled at Seward again. His smile faded a small bit but he still had hope. Nurse Celine got up and filled a cup with pills and handed it to Seward. Seward looked at it confused. “Aren’t I supposed to get out of here? The doctor said that I could leave.” “Did he?” Nurse Celine said again with the smile on her face growing. “Did he really? That is not what this note says.” She said picking up the piece of paper. “Take your meds, Mr. Seward.” Seward shook his head. “No, no. I told the truth. He told me I could leave. I have to get out of here. They’re going to get me. They’re going to get me. Please let me out.” Seward was in tears again. “Take your pills, Mr. Seward. You’re a paranoid schizophrenic, Mr. Seward and these pills will help you.” “I am not crazy! I’m not!” Seward said bouncing in his chair pounding the arms of the wheelchair.

“Take your pills, Seward or we’ll drop you a level. Do you want to go back to your room and be bound again?” Seward shook his head. He took the pills feeling the gray of the medication taking effect on him. He could feel that he wouldn’t be able to plot or do much of anything on this medication. He started to wheel himself back to his bedroom but he crashed into a wall. A nurse took over the wheelchair and pushed him into his room and lifted him into the bed. He lay still trying to use his brain and find out how he would ever get out or if perhaps this place would make him crazier and crazier until he would never get out like his fated roommate. He tried to move but he was a zombie, lying in the bed not being able to think about anything. A week past. A month past. He lay in bed. Was pushed around in his chair. Ate terrible food. Talked to the doctor. The doctor mostly did all the talking as Seward was in a haze. The medication was working terrifically! The doctors and nurses praised. He no longer spoke of the Mob, no longer spoke of murder, but he did speak of Serena and Ginger. He tried to not involve their bloody pasts or exactly how he knew them but he kept it all vague. He stayed in this vegetative state for a month. As the month passed, Seward felt the ability to choose a little better. He started tonguing his medication and hiding it in his wheelchair stuffing. He still wondered how he would ever get out because he still lacked the energy to get up and out of bed. He wondered if he would ever be able to escape the hospital. He looked down at his leg and thought it a chain on his ankle. He began plotting for a time when the cast was off and he was able to walk normally. He made a plan to assault a doctor or a male nurse and take their clothes and pass card and be able to leave. He wondered what he would do after. He guessed that by this time Ginger or Serena would have solved the case already. Even if the hadn’t ha had no will or power to go into the case again. The Mob would be breathing down his neck and he didn’t want their kind of retribution following close behind him again. He was plotting one day lying in bed when Nurse Celine came to

see him with a dirty look on her face. “Good morning, Seward.” She said derisively, though it was almost five in the evening. “You have a guest.” Seward acted drugged up, which was not too difficult due to the fact that he was actually dazed by the fact he had a guest. The entire month he had spent in the psychiatric ward he had never had a single guest. He wondered who it was and why they wanted to see him all of a sudden. Nurse Celine pulled him out of bed and put him into his chair wheeling him into the common room. In the common room he could see a tall woman wearing a large coat and a scarf over her hair. He wondered who it was, if it was Serena or Ginger or someone else. “Hello?” Seward said groggily waiting for the nurse to leave them. The woman turned around and Seward could see that it was Ginger. “Hello, Detective Seward.” She said pulling the scarf off of her head to reveal her red hair with lavender streaks. “It’s been awhile, now hasn’t it?” Seward nodded wondering what she was doing there. He smiled gently at her. “They say I’m better now.” He said, remembering what she had said the last time they had seen each other. “That’s what I hear. Why haven’t they let you out, then?” “I need to go up a few levels. I’m only a level five. I can leave the hospital for walks and weekend visits.” He looked down at his leg. “But I can’t walk and there’s one to vouch for my whereabouts on the weekends, anyway. I have no family. You’re my first guest in the entire month I’ve been here.” “I figured.” She said with a small grin. She seemed changed somehow. He wondered what had come of her experience with the Mob and guessed that it had gone well since she was still alive. “I’m here to take you on a weekend visit, Brother.” She said. “You really shouldn’t tell people you don’t have any family. I know you’re mad at mom and dad, but I’m still your sister no matter what, right?”

He could see that she had gone into another one of her false identities but he knew that it was his only hope to get out of the hospital was to agree. “Sorry, sis.” He said gently looking up at her knowing that she was his only salvation. He knew that the only way he would escape the hospital in the next two months was to follow along with her. “So, why are you here? Why now?” He asked, wondering if she would give a real story or a false one. “David!” She said surprised. “Have you really forgotten your birthday?” She said and started wheeling him away. “Normally the doctors and such will only let you out for a family visit if it’s a pre-approved weekend but I told them that it was your birthday and that I planned a huge party for you and they were fine with it. You ready to go?” Seward nodded numbly as Ginger took the handles of the wheelchair pulling him out of the ward. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ginger brought Seward into a large mansion that Seward had never before seen in his life. “Where are we?” Seward said still slightly blurry just from leaving the hospital and entering the real world. He looked around at the trees and the foliage and the sane people walking around free. He yearned to truly be a part of the world for once instead of just someone who was crazy and pretending to be sane. He laughed derisively. He sometimes couldn’t remember if he was really sane and everybody thinks he’s crazy or crazy and everyone thinks he’s sane. He tried to feel like he was part of the world but felt so apart. He felt the chaos of the real world pressing down and Seward almost wished for the clean, grayness of the hospital. Ginger lifted Seward out of the car. “What are we doing here?” Seward asked as Ginger set him down and gestured for him to follow. “Are you going to answer any of my questions?” He asked and

followed closely behind. The made their way into the mansion as Seward looked around the large hall. The hall was done completely in cream and gold, with a gigantic chandelier hanging from the ceiling. In the center there was a large curved marble staircase that came off of a ledge on the upstairs. There were large serving tables with bowls of punch large enough for swans to swim inside and thousands of glasses of champagne. There were champagne colored balloons on the ceiling accompanying the visions of heaven and angels. Seward was completely in awe of the splendor and grandeur of the large mansion. Ginger looked completely at home. “Come on, Ginger. Tell me who this place belongs to?” Seward asked. “I rented it for the party, Seward.” “Party? I thought that was just a cover story?” “No, it wasn’t.” Ginger answered walking into a small room off the edge of the ballroom under the curving staircase. The room was simply a really large dark closet. She wheeled Seward into the closet and handed Seward a suit with a bowtie. “Can you put it on yourself or do you need me to help?” Ginger said in the doorway. “I can try to do it myself.” Seward said shyly. “Will it fit over my cast?” “Yes, I got the pants a few sizes too big and if they don’t fit then we can roll up the pants or cut them or something. We have to have you looking your best. It is your birthday, after all.” She said and closed the door to the closet. “It’s not really my birthday.” Seward called out of the closet. “I can’t really see in here. It’s dark.” He called again and heard nothing but silence. He looked around on the walls for a light switch and found a cord in which he pulled. A dim light bulb turned on and Seward began dressing. He pulled the pants up completely over the cast and found that

when Ginger had told him that the pants were too big she hadn’t exaggerated. They barely stood up on his waist and he had to tighten the suspenders as tight as they would go to simply keep the pants up. He used the champagne colored cummerbund to cover the space that the pants were loose. He looked at the little gold bow tie and realized that though the outfit was elegant that it was quite ridiculous. When he was fully dressed he left the closet realizing he had no idea what he was doing. He wheeled around listlessly, going to the food servers and taking a small hors d’oeuvre from each and tried to settle his stomach. He realized that he was anxious because he had no idea what was going to happen. He realized that Ginger was acting really strangely and he was scared as to where the drive he had witnessed would go when she was desperate to find an answer. Maybe she had solved the case, already. He had no idea. She hadn’t said anything about the case and he wondered what was going on. He wondered if she was still looking at the Mob or if she had moved on. He wondered who had killed Manuel Silver. He felt that his own life had been in such peril that he had almost forgotten the man who had been killed. If the case was still going on he needed to reevaluate his priorities. He needed to focus on the murdered man and not his own ghosts. He sat in the corner and watched the guests flow in organized in small groups. He could see some people he recognized: Olivia, Eric, the Children of Love and some of the Giacometti family and fight club men. They were all suspects. He looked around noticing that there were some people that he didn’t recognize, too. He wondered what was going on. He looked at the clock and saw that it was already ten o’ clock. He heard the clock begin to chime and looked around. He could feel that something dramatic and possibly traumatic was about to happen. All of a sudden, looking up the staircase, he could see the drama headed his way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ginger started walking down the tall staircase. She was dressed in a long white gown that reached the floor and had a feather hairclip with swan feathers in her hair. Her hair was curled in a 1920’s style and she moved it gently out of her face as she walked. “I’ve invited you all. You are everybody involved in this murder case and what better way to solve it, then to put you all in the same room? Think about it. You all have at least some issue with some person in this room and at least one of you knows who did it. Talk amongst yourselves. Maybe before the evening ends we’ll have a bit of a surprise.” Seward wheeled up to Ginger. “Ginger, what are you doing? This wasn’t the plan.” Ginger sneered at Seward and flipped her hair. She leaned close into Seward’s face. “Screw you and your plans, Detective Seward. This case is never going to be solved with you and your plans. You don’t even get the enormity of this case, do you? The Mob, Seward? If we don’t find the killer, we’ll be killed. Don’t you get it? It’s serious now. Real serious.” She pulled from her small black clutch purse a small silver handgun. “There will be blood spilt, Detective Seward. It’s not about ‘who did it?’ now. It’s about who didn’t and who stood by to let it happen.” Seward’s eyes widened at the sight of the gun as he began to back up to go and tell someone. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll tell, Detective. Not when I know who killed your family.” Seward froze and Ginger smiled surreptitiously. “That’s right. I’ve been snooping in your files and I know the case that’s been haunting you. I get it, Seward. I really do. My parents were killed when I was younger, too, don’t you remember? I get what it’s like to lose a loved one to an awful crime. My parents were hit by a drunk driver on the way home after a baseball game. I would have been there too but I wasn’t feeling too well that night. I had the stomach flu and was staying with a babysitter. I can remember when the police showed up at the door. I had stayed up, waiting for my parents to come home to bring me the ice cream they promised, but… instead, I saw the red and blue lights. I was

only six, but I knew that something bad had happened. The police came to the door and told the babysitter what had happened.” Her face was blank and serious, as if she had been practicing this for years. “She told me all the details. The driver was three times the legal limit and ran into my parents at one hundred miles an hour. My father died instantly on impact, but my mother was propelled out the car. She landed between the two cars and was wedged between the two for almost two hours. She was alive and screaming. They knew that she could never survive if the cars would be separated but she was alive and in pain the entire time they attempted to free her. My mother died in agony, because of this one drunk driver. I became an orphan and went from foster home to foster home until I was sixteen and emancipated myself. Inside the foster homes I was abused, beaten, and neglected. I was homeless after I was emancipated for an entire year. My entire life was shattered just because this one drunk driver couldn’t wait to sober up before driving. So, you see, Seward, I get it. I get what it’s like to have your whole world crash around your ears because of a criminal. I also know something else. I know who killed your wife and son. I know who did it and I also know that they’re in this room. You want me to stop, right now? Fine, I’ll end the party, but you’ll never know. You’ll never know who killed Annabelle and Sammy.” Seward stood stock still, dazed. The memories flooded back, instantly at the sound of their names. He could see the first time he had ever seen Annabelle in that bar, their first date, and their first kiss. He saw all of it, again and again. He remembered her voice telling him she loved him and their marriage vows. He remembered the moment she began walking down the aisle in her beautiful white dress. He felt his heart in his eyes and the thought of spending the rest of his life with this beautiful woman. He couldn’t help these feelings. He remembered the first moment he knew that his son was on the way. He had felt so proud, hadn’t ever been so full of pride like that, before in his life. Her pregnancy had been so difficult that Seward was even more proud of her when she finally gave birth Seward loved the baby even more. Samuel David Seward was his name, born with all ten fingers and ten toes, absolutely perfect. The first

moment he held his son in his arms, with Annabelle looking at him, her eyes full of love, he might as well have died then and there. Their relationship wasn’t perfect; they fought often, as many married couples do, but they always made up. That was the key to the perfect relationship. He found that no matter what happened or what was said, as long as he apologized sincerely, admitted he was wrong when he was, and made up, more than they fought, that they were perfect. Sammy was precocious, talking and walking at an early age. He was extremely inquisitive, always asking questions. Seward wondered if maybe he would end up being a detective, too. He could imagine himself training his son, being a mentor for his own son. He couldn’t help but imagine a perfect future. He gained more and more expertise in detective work and became known for never losing a case. He made tons of money and considered retiring on it. He felt that maybe it was too dangerous and he was extremely protective of his family. He promised Annabelle that he would only take one more case and then retire. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d always want to jump back into casework again, but he made a promise. The next case was one of the hardest he had ever been involved in. He always had a rule to stay out of organized crime and somehow he fell face first into it. He realized that the man who had committed the crime, a murder and bank robbery was a member of the local crime syndicate. He tried to back out of it but the real cops got wind of it. The man was arrested and the Mob started coming after Seward. It all came down to it, one night it reached the climax. It was right after the case that he had promised to Annabelle as his last. Annabelle was angry with him for how the last case had gone, but also happy that it was his last case. They had argued all day, because Seward had told her that he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to try to take down the sect of the Mob that wanted to finish me. They had been arguing all day so Seward had left the house to take a walk. A few men cornered him in an alley. He tried to fight them off, reaching for his gun, but the men disarmed him and mugged him leaving him bleeding and passed out cold in the alley. He awoke to the light of day the next morning. Completely disoriented, Seward walked the few blocks back to his home, despite the concussion setting in. He tried the doorknob and found that the door was

unlocked. He wondered if perhaps Annabelle had stayed awake worrying about him and was angry. He opened the door and went into a quiet house. He called their names but could hear no reply. If he hadn’t been so disoriented he would have thought that something was wrong. He walked into the living room and saw that it was dark and empty. He walked up the stairs to the bedroom and called their names again. He walked into his son’s bedroom and saw something he knew he would never forget as long as he lived. His son was dead, lying in his small bed, his small body riddled with bullets. Seward felt grief flood him, but the concussion kept him in the fog. He turned away, out of the small bedroom and went to walk into his own bedroom. He could not find his wife. He called her name again and realized the one room he hadn’t searched was the small attached bathroom. He walked into the tiny room and found the most horrifying scene he had ever seen. He had worked as a detective for many years, but the scene he walked into sent him falling to the floor. His wife was there with her long blonde hair, tied around the neck in the shower with blood all over her body. There was a gun lying on the floor and her wrists were slashed. On the bathroom mirror, there was the word ‘sorry’ written in Annabelle’s blood. Seward was sick all over the bathroom floor both from the concussion and from the scene he had just walked into. He knew that he had walked into his own demise. He tried to work out what had happened in his mind but he felt so far away from it all. He tried to crawl out of the room before he himself was lost to the pain and death that filled the house. He made it to the stairs where he passed out. He felt himself wasting away, but didn’t truly mind as he faded to black. “Seward? Detective Seward? Oh, God. David? You need to wake up. David, can you hear me?” Seward tried to make his way out of the gray. “Huh?” He murmured feeling like his head weighed so much more than his body and opening his eyes to reveal nothing but blurriness. “Oh, God, I thought you were dead. Seward?” A slightly familiar feminine voice questioned.

“Annabelle?” He said trying to feel his body again. “Seward,” An angry masculine voice answered. “You’re under arrest for the murders of Annabelle and Samuel Seward. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford one, one will be provided for—” “Wait, what? What happened to Annie? And Sammy? I don’t—” All of a sudden he remembered what he had witnessed in his home. “Oh, God, no.” Seward said trying to put his hands on his face but found that his hands were handcuffed to the stretcher. “Seward, what happened?” The female voice said again. He recognized the voice and the person speaking as Annabelle’s sister Estelle. Her voice broke. “Did you kill them? How could you? Why would you do that?” She broke down into tears. “I didn’t do it.” Seward said really blurrily. “I came home and found them dead. How could I have done that? I was mugged last night.” “Mugged? What happened?” “I don’t remember. I got hit and woke up in an alley. I don’t know what I happened. The last thing I remember was… seeing them. I saw them dead. Oh, God.” Seward broke down into tears. “Seward, we found you, in the house, covered in their blood. Did you kill your wife and child and try and frame your wife?” Seward shook his head, wiping away the tears. “No, I did not. I swear I did not.” Seward tried to cover his grief, but was unable with his hands handcuffed to the bed. “Oh my God. My wife. My beautiful Annabelle. Sammy. My baby.” He screamed loudly a cry of grief that the sheer remembrance of it brought Seward back into the present. He could still remember the next few months of them having no proof to pin it on Seward and letting him out of jail. He remembered the death certificates

saying that Annabelle had killed Sammy and then herself. SELFINFLICTED were the words on the death certificate. The newspapers ran with it and it began known as a murder-suicide. He knew that this was the last case he would take. He knew that his wife was not capable of the kind of carnage he had witnessed. He knew it was all a lie. He wondered why the mob was now leaving him alone and not coming after him as they had previously. Inside he knew why. They had gotten their revenge already. This was what they had wanted. This was Mob-style retribution at its best and Seward knew it well. He knew that the whole thing was his fault. He tried. He never truly gave up on finding out who killed his family and clearing his wife’s name. If this girl, the one who had been at his side for so long knew what happened he had to do what she said. He had to do nothing. “Good, Seward. I knew you had at least some brains.” She sneered. “There’s nothing you could do anyway. They’d all just think you’re crazy. You are crazy, Seward. You tried to kill yourself, remember? You thought the Mob was after you? Really, Seward? You think anyone in this room will believe you? Go ahead.” She laughed. “Let’s see if anyone believes that I’m the psycho. I’m the sane one. The one who took over after you had a mental breakdown. The fight club boys? Eric? Olivia and her little cult? How about Serena? You think she’ll believe you?” Seward’s eyes grew. “Yes, Seward. Serena is here. She’s in another room being prepped for the final climax to this little story. She’s the one who will bring this whole thing to the final moments and there’s nothing you could possibly do about it, now. If we both get out of this thing alive, I’ll tell you who killed your wife. Oh, I almost feel sorry for you, Seward. You’re just so helpless. Not only am I holding your whole past against you but you’re in a wheelchair! How could I do this to you? I’m so sorry.” She laughed. “You don’t care about this case, now do you?” She stroked the gun. “We’ll see the end of this case with a bang.” She laughed and walked away with a sashay. Seward put his hands over his face, trying to think of what he

could possibly do. He wished that he was in a great detective movie or book where you only think that the detective is hopeless but he comes back somehow by flipping around in his chair and surprise! His leg is a gun and he takes out half the room. Case closed! Hast la vista, Baby! But, no. Seward was just as helpless as could be in his wheelchair knowing that to try and stop Ginger would mean that the last three years were for naught. He wheeled around trying not to let anyone who could be considered an enemy see him. He could see that there were more guests than just the suspects in the case. He wondered if perhaps they were more suspects that Ginger had found. He could see that Ginger was walking around and socializing but that she was handing everyone a small gift wrapped in parchment paper and tied with a red ribbon. He could see that she was telling each person not to open it just yet. He wondered what could possibly be inside. He stared at Ginger wondering if this was the person she was in reality and the person that Seward had known was just a lie. He took a deep breath and wheeled to one of the guests. “Hi, um… I didn’t get my gift. Can I see yours?” Seward said grabbing at straws and asking a random guest whom he didn’t recognize. “Detective Seward? You know that you’re not supposed to have this. It’s your present for later.” The woman said, smiling down at him. “I’m sorry about your accident. Thank you for inviting me to your party. Happy Birthday.” She said and walked away with her glass of champagne. Seward turned around and could see that everyone was looking at him in the same way. They all looked at him with the same look of recognition and pity. He could see that they all thought he was crazy, but they were all happy that they were invited to this party. The Mob men in the corners looked at him like they got the revenge that they wanted, or would get the revenge soon. He looked over at Ginger and could see that she was still handing out the presents but was looking at him with a glimmer in her eye. “I don’t know what to do.” Seward said and hung his head. He

took a deep breath trying to think of anything that he could do to stop or slow this whole thing down. He wheeled himself to the bar and got a glass of champagne. He drank it in one full swig and straightened his bow tie. “What am I supposed to do?” He murmured again, taking another glass of champagne. The only option was to drink until the choice was obvious or at least easier if he wasn’t able to do anything. He took another glass of champagne. He watched the clock. From the way that Ginger had set this whole thing up, he knew that when the clock struck twelve that that was when everything would go straight to hell. He laughed derisively. Yes, everything would go to hell and he would fiddle while Rome burned. He was feeling pleasantly buzzed and felt the edges blur gently and he found it easier to sit by and watch the outcome of the evening. All of a sudden he felt himself being pushed from behind. “Whoa!” He said dizzily, glad that at least he couldn’t fall down. “Seward, Seward, Seward. When will you ever learn that alcohol solves nothing? It only ever works as a social lubricant and if you’re not being social then it does nothing for you!” She wheeled him over to the front of the room. He tried to turn away so the mobsters wouldn’t see him. “Oh, don’t worry about your old friends from the Giacometti clan. I told them to behave and they will listen.” “Why do you automatically think that everything is going to go your way?” Seward interjected. “You don’t know everything. You’re young. I know a lot of terrible things have happened to you, but that doesn’t excuse you killing people!” Seward tried to pull his chair away but Ginger held tight. “Me? You think that I’m going to kill anyone? Do you honestly think that I could kill anyone, Seward? I told you blood would be spilled. I didn’t say that I would be spilling it. There are some very bloodthirsty people in this room, as I told you before and they would be more than happy to do my killing for me. There are murderers and worse in this room and I wonder what they would do if they found out that someone among them has done something worse than murder.”

“What could be worse than murder?” Seward said again trying to pull away from her steadfast grip on his wheelchair. “Stop struggling.” Ginger said gently. “Or we can start the evening early. I’m giving you time here.” She smiled and pulled him aside. “Get your priorities together, Seward. Maybe you could solve the case before I solve it for you.” She laughed and left him in the corner. “And stay of the booze!” She called and the guests around her laughed. Seward wanted to pace desperately, but he was left to pull the wheels of his wheelchair back and forth. He tried to think. Tried to put his finger on the one thing that he hadn’t before. “Oh my God!” He realized. He started to wheel himself away to an empty corner where he could talk over the entire case in full. He went to a waitress handing out champagne and asked for her pad of paper that she used to write orders. She gave it to him without question. He assumed that Ginger had told them that he was insane, too. He took the pad of paper and started writing. He had forgotten one important detail that had been so important in the beginning. It had been the deciding factor of taking the case. Serena was pregnant. He had taken the case because he thought she was beautiful and that she looked like Annabelle but the fact that she was with child had made her that much more attractive to him. He could see Annabelle reflected in the glow of Serena. He could see the baby on it’s way as Sammy. His son. But there was one thing that had echoed in his mind: Manuel. Their marriage had been one of convenience. Eric had said that Manuel was faithful to him and that Serena had nothing to do with Manuel but his money. Eric was convinced that Serena would not have hurt Manuel. Serena didn’t even get cent from the life insurance or the will, because it was all wrapped up in the case. They had thought that Serena murdered Manuel just as they had thought that Seward had murdered Annabelle. He saw so many of aspects of the case he had so failed in this one. He had no idea who murdered Annabelle and Sammy but he had a lead on who murdered Manuel. Seward had gone to the Mob because he saw the old case in this one. He was wrong. Maybe they had roughed Manuel up for not throwing the

fight, but they didn’t kill him. Serena was pregnant. How could she be pregnant if Manuel had never touched her? She was promiscuous to say the least and maybe Manuel didn’t care but who did? Melissa. Melissa had thought that she was Serena’s only. She was obsessed with Serena, leaving town after Serena hurt her. Maybe Serena told Melissa that she was pregnant. Maybe Melissa assumed that Manuel was the one who impregnated her. Maybe this made her mad. This was enough of a motive for murder. Maybe Melissa knew that Serena would never leave Manuel if there was going to be a baby. Maybe Melissa knew that the only way to get Manuel out of the way was to kill him. Then she left town. That was a lot of ‘maybes’. Seward sighed. If that was really the end of the case, then he didn’t understand what was going on here. Melissa wasn’t even here at this party. He wondered if Ginger had worked it out this far. He wondered if perhaps one of the many women here at this party was Melissa. He looked around and realized he had no idea what Melissa looked like. That was a mistake he had made and he was sorry because of it. He looked around trying to see a woman who looked like what Serena had briefly described. Ginger would know, but he didn’t want to share anything else with her. He felt that she was having a slight mental breakdown or something to make her act the way that she was. He looked at the clock. There was only five minutes until midnight. Seward tried to think of a plan in which he could get Ginger out of the house, at least with enough time for her to realize what she was doing. He wheeled himself up to Ginger who had just finished handing out her gifts. “Ginger, we need to get out of here. You don’t know what you’re doing. We can get out of here. Nothing has happened yet. We could just leave. We could go back to my house, get some coffee or something. We can just talk. You’re upset. I know that. I know how frustrating it can be when you really need to solve a case and you can’t. I think I know who did it. If you just end this party, right now, I’ll tell you and we can find them. You can tell me what you found out about Annabelle and Sammy, too.” He cleared his throat. “Or not. Whatever you want.” He was trying so desperately to get her to change her mind. “We need to talk, anyway. Ginger, remember what you

said to me when I was in the hospital? You told me you loved me, well, I love you too.” He lied. He needed to get her out of there. He needed to know what was going on. He needed to be somewhere where he had some power over what would happen in the future. He needed to get away from the party. Ginger smiled at him gently touching his face. “Do you really mean it, Seward? Do you really love me?” She said biting her lip gently. “We should leave, then?” “Yes, yes. We should go. We could go to my place and do whatever you want. I’ll hold you and we can plan whatever you want to happen. You can tell me what you found while I was in the hospital and I can tell you what I just figured out.” “Oh, you figured something out?” Ginger said sweetly. “What did you figure out?” She asked taking Seward’s hands and looking into his eyes. Then she went and looked at the clock on the wall, which was chiming midnight. “Oh, but the time is growing so late. It’s time for the big show!” She let go of Seward and turned toward the stairs. She walked up a few and spread her arms wide. “Good evening guests! Welcome to the party that will change to lives of several of the people in this room. I assume you all got your gifts for detective Seward’s birthday. I think that it’s time to open your gifts.” Every one took their boxes and pulled the ribbons off and took the wrappings off. They opened the boxes and pulled out… several shiny silver handguns. Everyone looked up at Ginger confused until… the lights went out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

There were several loud gunshots in the dark, screams. Seward felt his wheelchair being pulled to and fro and he tried to shift, trying to see who was doing so. “Ginger!” He yelled in the dark and waved his arms to

try and feel where she was. He wondered if she had planned this. He heard more gunshots and heard bodies hit the ground. He felt bullets whizzing by his head. He screamed and hit the deck. Pain shot through his broken leg as the cast hit the ground. All of a sudden he felt someone pull his shoulder and pull him into a corner. He heard Ginger hiss in his ear. “Come on. We have to get out of here. They want to kill you.” She said. Seward was filled with fear and felt Ginger pull him into the wheelchair and pull him into the closet that he had changed in. She pulled the light cord in the ceiling and knocked on the wall in different spaces. “What are you doing? What’s going on?” He said terrified. He felt so vulnerable in the wheelchair with people aiming guns at him. “They all want to kill you and if you want to die I’d keep talking the way that you are.” He quieted down as she opened a small door in the wall leading to a very dark precarious staircase. “How am I going to get down there?” Seward whispered. “And what exactly is down there?” “It’s a safe place and I’m going to push you.” Ginger said pulling his wheelchair and putting it on the top stair. “Push me? What? Killing me will not do anything! I thought you were trying to help me!” Seward whispered full of terror. “I’m going to push you, softly.” She said exasperated. “I wouldn’t kill you.” She said but Seward swore that she said “not yet.” underneath her breath but he couldn’t be sure. The trip down the stairs was bumpy but Seward held on tight and tried to trust Ginger to save his life. He could still hear the faint echoing of gunshots up the stairs and could hear screams and cries. When he got to the bottom of the stairs Ginger pushed him into the corner of a very dim room. “Are you okay?” She asked when they got to bottom of the stairs. She turned the wheelchair around so he couldn’t see her.

“Ginger, please. Did you plan this? What’s going on? Why are they all trying to kill me?” “Oh, Seward, how little you know.” Ginger said and hit Seward over the head with a champagne bottle. He blacked out instantly slouching down in his chair.

“Ginrrrrr… Giiiiinrrr” Seward groaned, waking up. He tried to feel the side of his head where he was hit and tried to move his hands. He found that he was bound together and he was gagged. He looked around in fear. “Good morning, Detective Seward.” Ginger said sitting on the stair. “Oh, it’s been a long run, now hasn’t it?” She said with a sly grin. “Have you figured it out yet, Seward? You told me you figured some things out, so what is it?” Seward’s eyes widened in fear as he tried to talk through the gag. “Grrrrmph, Phrgr Mrrrssrr fr grty hhhdfd.” Seward tried to explain. Ginger simply laughed loudly. “Oh, is that what happened?” Ginger said. “I’m really hoping you figured out that it was Melissa did it already.” She said and waited for Seward’s reaction. “Come on, Seward. Nod your head for me, if you did or shake it if you haven’t. Do I really need to explain it to you?” Seward nodded gently. “Good, Seward.” His eyes were still filled with fear. “But you haven’t figured out what you’re doing here yet, have you?” Ginger asked. Seward shook his head. “I’m Melissa Vane, Detective Seward. Seriously? How did you not get that?!” Seward’s mind reeled. The entire case fell into play. Everything made sense. Everything was in Technicolor. Seward’s mouth hung open as he tried to think of the implications. Ginger practically read his mind. “Don’t even bother, Detective. I’ll explain it to you. You think that I am

Ginger Bailey. I mean, that’s who I am, right? That’s whom I’ve introduced myself as, it’s who I was born as, right? Wrong, Detective Seward. I was born Melissa Angelique Vane. I did have what you might call an ‘affair’ but what I would call the greatest romance in my life. It was real, Seward. It wasn’t like the lie that you had with her or the lie that you and I had. This was real!” She grabbed Seward’s shoulder and grabbed a gun out of the front of her dress. She ran the gun gently against Seward’s neck giving him chills all over his arms. “Oh, I bet you’re wondering if little Ginger Bailey was a real person. Yes, she was. She really was my roommate. Every feeling that I told you that Ginger had for Melissa AKA me was probably more or less true.” Melissa laughed. “Oh, I tried not to lead her on, but she knew about Serena, knew how I felt about her. Ginger was… less that attractive if you know what I mean. I really did hope that Serena wouldn’t describe me to you and I was right on that she wouldn’t. I’m surprised she even went to a detective with her issue. I mean, that is so not Serena, you know? She really has surprised me in so many ways. She never thought that it was me that killed Manuel, did she? Little defenseless ninety pound lesbian lover, Melissa Vane could never have committed murder. Not without help. Anyway, I was talking about Ginger, wasn’t I? Well, I got her to help me, Seward. Sad little Ginger. She really did love me. I knew this and used it for her to come and help me. She helped me kill Manuel and heft him into the freezer.” Melissa giggled. “Oh, Seward. When you came to the door, I was so scared until I realized: I am Ginger! Ginger is dead and I can be whoever the hell I want to be. Don’t you get it yet, Seward? The whole world is up for grabs. You can do anything you want as long as nobody finds out.” She laughed. “When you showed up at my door I realized that killing Ginger was a good idea. It was a mistake at first but then I realized I could be whomever I want. I could be dead. I could be alive. I could be queen of the whole damned world. Don’t you see? It isn’t just the ‘American dream’ anymore. It’s the world. It can be changed. Anything can be changed!” She laughed again. “You don’t want someone in the world? Get rid of them. You don’t like who you are? Change it. You don’t like the person you’re with? Kill them, or get damn near close and hope to god

they’ll change. That’s what I did. I regret hitting Serena. I love Serena. I hope that we’ll get married some day and have flowers and bridesmaids, you know. The whole shebang. But she needs to get her life together. She’s hurt a lot of people, Seward. Me and you included. I love her like I’ve never loved anyone before in my entire life but once I killed Manuel I knew that she wouldn’t forgive that kind of thing.” Melissa laughed again. “I thought she’d know right away, and maybe she did. Maybe she took the fall for me.” She smiled wide. “Maybe all that time in jail made her realize that she’d do anything for me! She has to be smart enough to know that I killed Manuel. She never loved him. She told me that. She said I was the only one in her life. I told her that she better be. Oh, God, Seward. Did you really think that I loved you? You’re so stupid, Seward. I’m sorry I fooled you like that. I didn’t actually think that you would fall for the whole, ‘May, November’ thing. I thought that you were smarter than that. I was afraid that you would catch on to the whole act. I mean, every time I gave a fake name wasn’t it just obvious that it was the same as when I said my name is Ginger? I guess not.” Melissa laughed so loud that Seward feared for his life simply from the tremors of her fingers on the gun. “Oh, you made a fatal mistake when you had no idea what Melissa looked like. How exactly did you expect to find a missing person if you didn’t even know what she looked like! Oh, Seward. I wonder how you’ve ever solved a crime. I mean, did it just fall in your lap? What did you expect to happen? I avoided Serena like the plague! I knew that if I stayed with you and told you I didn’t want to see Serena that you would keep me a fair distance away from her. It hurt, Seward. It really did. Spending that much time away from the love of my life? Oh yes, I almost didn’t go through it, just for that reason. I considered kidnapping—no, taking Serena away from all these bad people! I knew that she could care less about Manuel. I just knew that everyone would be looking for her. I mean, who wouldn’t want a piece of Serena? I mean, you did, obviously or you wouldn’t have even taken the case. I know about Annabelle and Sammy, Detective. I know who killed them. I’m not stupid or crazy or anything that they wanted to call me. Put me in a mental institution? No way. I would not go. They wanted to hurt me? Change me? I wasn’t going to let them. They

kicked me out onto the streets and just expected me to be okay? This is the final act, Seward. I lied to you. I’m sorry. What Serena did was just the prelude to the denouement. This” Melissa said putting the gun to Seward’s head. “This is the real end. I have to explain why this whole thing happened, though. You have to know why you ruined my life.” Seward looked around trying to find a way out. His hands were bound and his mouth was tied so he couldn’t scream, but he was still able to try and run. He wondered the risk of it, if he tried to run if Melissa would shoot him. He doubted it greatly. He had a feeling that she would not kill him unless she had said her piece. He could tell from her conviction that she needed to get out what she had needed to say for quite some time now. Seward found his opportunity when she turned away for a few seconds to pace. He dove for the floor. She heard the crash as Seward tried desperately to crawl on his elbows to get away. She fired the gun at a spot near his head and screamed. Seward froze. “DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME!” She yelled pouncing on him and pulling his hair up and putting the cold steel against his ear. “I could give less of a shit if you hear my story. I just figured you would want to know why your whole life went to hell.” She pulled him up putting him into the chair again. “Oh, Seward. Don’t you get it yet?!” She yelled hitting him with the gun. She got down on her knees and looked him in the eyes. “You are going to die tonight, Seward. It doesn’t matter what you do or what you say, but you are going to die. I am going to win, Seward. I’m going to walk right out of here with the girl on my arm and ride off into the sunset. The good guy doesn’t always get to be the hero. It’s my turn now. It’s my turn to reap the benefits of my work, it’s my turn to get what I want, and it’s my turn to talk.” She said getting up ignoring the tears running down Seward’s face. “As I was saying earlier, my mother and father were hit by a drunk driver on the way home after a baseball game. They were killed. My father was killed instantly and my mother suffered for a short amount of time. I suffered for the rest of my life. This one drunk driver, he changed my entire life. I have never forgiven him. I will never forgive him for what he did to me. The part that hurts the most,” Melissa said breaking down into tears. “Is that he doesn’t even remember what he did to me. I got my revenge. I killed his

family.” Seward looked at her in terror as the realization set in. “I was six when he killed my family. Six years old!” She screeched grabbing Seward by the shoulders and shaking him. “I wasn’t even old enough to comprehend what had just happened to me. I had to wait to get my revenge on the bastard who destroyed my life. I waited for ten years to get him the way that he had so easily gotten me. I didn’t even know how to go about it. I emancipated myself and was living on my own so I searched him down. The cops never got him, never even had a clue who did it, but I did. My mother lived in agony for two whole hours trapped between two cars. She could talk, she could feel everything and she told everything to a very kind EMT. I searched that EMT down and he told me that she described the drunk driver who killed her. He described that drunk driver to me.” She stood up and looked at Seward in the eye, clenching the gun tightly in her sweaty hands. “That description… it matched you, Detective. You were the man who killed my parents.” She giggled. “And now…” She said with a large grin. “I’m going to kill you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Seward’s entire life flashed before his eyes. He realized that Ginger was wrong. She was wrong in that he had forgotten that evening. He remembered it well. He had been a younger self. It had been thirteen years ago and Seward had been twenty-six. He remembered that he had been at a party and he remembered that Annabelle had been there. He had smiled at her and they had talked a bit but he had gone home alone. He had used alcohol to stop himself from caring about her, but it hadn’t worked. He thought about hailing a cab but the rain outside had kept him from wanting to stand on the curb for too long. After all, his car was in the parking lot and he only lived a few blocks away. He could barely walk, he didn’t know if he could drive. He considered sleeping in his car but he was afraid of any homeless person who might come up and either bother him

or rob him. He got into his car and turned the key. His drive was uneventful to begin with and he praised himself on how well he drove drunk. Then he saw it. The red light. His reaction time was too slow to stop but it was fast enough (and stupid enough) to try and beat it. He was already going pretty fast but he stepped on the gas so hard to try and beat the light. He saw that another car was already in the intersection about one second too late. He felt the slam of metal and the smell of burning rubber. He didn’t tense up or get thrown from the car. He was wearing his seatbelt and his car was a new one with all the safety features of a crash test dummy commercial. He heard a body hit the top of the car and bounce and he heard a woman begin to scream. His eyes widened as he was sobered up instantly. He picked his hands up and touched his head to make sure he was all right. He thought about running out of the car and making sure everybody in the other car was fine. He thought about calling nine one one and being responsible. But then he remembered how drunk he was. He remembered the thud of a body on the roof of his car. He thought about going to jail. Finally, he thought about the beautiful woman Annabelle he had just met at the bar. He couldn’t stand never seeing her again or her thinking that he was a murderer. He turned the key in the ignition trying to start the car but it wouldn’t start. Through the shattered windshield he could see a bloody woman pinned between the two cars who was beginning to wake up and scream. It was a new car, as Seward had said earlier, and he hadn’t registered it, yet, hadn’t even signed the papers. The car lot owner had been a family friend and had let him take the car for a week for an extended test drive. He left the car in fear and started walking towards the street. The wreckage was much worse from the outside, the smoke and metal making a chaotic scene. Seward coughed and took one final look and ran. He ran like hell from a part of his life he spent the next thirteen years trying to forget. Melissa didn’t understand that Seward had no idea that anyone was left behind. He had no idea that the people he had killed had a daughter, that they had a family, that anyone would miss them. He tried not to think about that kind of thing. They were one of the reasons he had gone on to

becoming a detective. He wanted to help other people whose lives had been uprooted due to tragedy. He wanted to make amends. But he never wanted to leave Annabelle. That very evening after he got out of the car, and walked home he called Annabelle telling her that he wanted to see her again, telling her that she was on his mind so heavily that he didn’t know what to do. She had laughed and thought his funny but he had been sincere. He spent his life paying for that sincerity. He had left that car due to a love he had for a woman who was taken away for that very same sin. “I don’t know what to do, not anymore. You mean everything to me, Annabelle.” He had told her that night and she was taken away from him years later, slaughtered by the daughter of the people he himself had killed years before. It was ironic and sad and now he had a gun to his head from the girl who was at the center of it all. “So, Seward, any last words?” Melissa said pressing the steel of the gun against his temple. “You’re not going to go through with this, Melissa. I know you’re not. You may think that being with me was false, but I know you meant it. I know you meant it when you kissed me.” Melissa laughed heartily not moving the gun from his head. “Oh, Seward. I’m so glad that you’re a man. A woman would have never fallen for those ploys. And you actually believed that I wasn’t playing you as much as Serena was? Really? Oh, stupid, stupid Seward. My love for you? It was just an excuse for me to get inside you head, to get you to trust me. I hate you, Seward. I’ve hated you for so many years. When you showed up at my doorstep I knew that it was my turn to have my revenge on you. I had my revenge on Manuel and now I’ll have my revenge on you. I’ll take Serena tonight and we’ll take off. Just one little order of business.” She said and cocked the gun and put it right at Seward’s forehead. Seward closed his eyes feeling his life coming to an end. He said a small prayer and took one last look at Melissa. He watched her smile and then heard a bang. He closed his eyes wondering why he didn’t feel pain. He looked up trying to see if blood was running down his

head, wondering if he was dead. He looked up at Melissa and saw that she was clutching her chest. Her white dress turned crimson with her blood. She looked up at Seward confused looking down at his hands. She turned around looking at the door and saw Serena. Serena was standing there with the smoking gun wearing a long red evening gown with her hair hanging long and full in her face. Melissa turned toward her touching her wound and looking at Serena betrayed. “Serena. I’m sorry.” Melissa said gently and fell to the floor. Serena ran up to Melissa and pulled the gun away from her. Seward’s eyes were wide as Serena began to untie him with tears in her eyes. “Seward. I’m sorry I got you involved in all this.” She said untying his mouth and arms. He flexed his wrists that were raw and red. “Oh, I know they hurt.” She said showing him where her porcelain wrists were also rubbed raw and red. “She tied me up. She kept me in the basement for over a week. Once you were committed, she went to my house and tried to talk to me. A few weeks later, she took me and tied me up. She said that she was planning for us to go away. She said that you two were friends. I laughed at her and she knocked me out. For the rest of the time she kept me drugged and tied up. She only let me out for the party.” Seward could see that Serena was much thinner and much more gaunt than she had ever been. “Let’s get out of here. I really need a cigarette.” Serena said and grabbed Seward’s wheelchair and pulled him out of the room. “How did she get you down these stairs?” Serena asked pulling Seward to the staircase. “Well, I’m just going to lift you and carry you all the way up, okay?” She said and leaned down to pick him up and carry him up the stairs. He wondered how she was going to possibly take him all the way up the stairs but she lifted him, cast and all and carried him up the stairs through the small closet door. She put him on the couch in the foyer. He noticed that it was nearly daylight outside and that the guests had cleared out. “What happened, Serena? Why did she have this party?”

“I think that she really was afraid to kill you. It was easier for her to kill Manuel because she didn’t even know him, but she felt that the bond with you was too close. She got everybody to come here for the party and told a select few that you had murdered Manuel. Olivia, Eric, and the Mob all fired their guns at you. I guess, she realized that she had a few things that she wanted to say to you before you were dead, so she saved you and prolonged your life that much more. She let me out but told the servants that I was not to leave the house. I wasn’t supposed to come out until she told me to. I came out at the strike of twelve and saw everyone with their guns and realized what the deal was. I saw Melissa and I knew that she did it. She had loved me to an obsessive amount. I tried to have faith in her, because I loved her too. I guess I didn’t realize how controlling and awful our relationship really was, Detective. I’m the one who turned off the lights, so no one could shoot you. I feared for your life because I knew that if you were off the case that no one would ever stop Melissa or find out who killed my husband. Thank you, Detective Seward.” Serena said leaning over his wheelchair and putting her hands on his cheeks. She pulled him close into a gentle kiss. Seward sank into it. All of a sudden there was a loud bang of a gunshot. They both turned around and saw Melissa lying on the floor in the closet under the stairs in a puddle of blood aiming the gun right at Seward. Serena sneered pulling out her gun and shooting Melissa four times in the hand and back. She turned back to Seward. “I’m not going to let her ruin my happy ending.” Serena said and pulled Seward again into another kiss.

THE END