Frank Tucker sat on the love seat in the middle of his apartment. Surrounded by marble walls and gold-framed lights, all he could do was fold his hands behind his head and lean back to stare up at the dim ceiling.

His feet were propped across the glass counter top. They wave back and forth with the grace of a piano metronome; a soft tick, tock, tick, tock. The toes would often flick the corners of the newspaper and magazine he had piled up. Each and every one of their headline and leading topic were about the Splitter, the killing spree, and ‘When will the Police Catch him!?’.

The husband relaxed, listening to the music. An acoustic guitar, playing a soft Latino dance. Deep down, he wanted to dance along to the beat. Eyes closed, feet waving to the rhythm of the light music. Relaxed. Reminiscing.

A deep breath, and he shut out the world outside of his—

Dim Dim Dim.

Frank Tucker flinched. Was that the sound of a bell? In the music? Odd, he heard it over a thousand times. There was never a—

Ding dong, Ding Dong

The husband bolted sitting up. The sound of the bell wasn’t from the music. He realized it was coming from the door. Who could it be? So late in this hour? Just in case he turned on the TV and tried to look at the security camera at the front gate.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Ding dong, Ding Dong. Ding dong, Ding Dong.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of a fist pounding at his door got his attention. The man staggered to his feet, watching as his front door shaking from each strike from someone outside. After a few more banging noises, he forced himself to walk over in a hesitant shuffle.

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A shaking hand reached out, removing several of the locks and--

“Mr. Frank Tucker. I am Inspector May from C.I.D. You are under arrest for the murder of Sarah Tucker. This is our search warrant.”

The inspector marched through the door while holding up a folded piece of court documents. Following her closely was her C.I.D. team Constable Jenny and Jackson, along with several other men in uniform.

“Wait! What? Murder? What are you doing stop!” Frank Tucker waved his hand in protest, to try and stop the horde of policemen wandering around in his home. Jenny and Jackson came over to put their hands on his shoulder to keep him still. “Inspector this is crazy! I am the victim! Why are you arresting me!?”

Inspector May tugged on her suit, “We have reasons to suspect you are involved with the murder of Sarah Tucker. This is search warrant approved by the courts. We’re given the right to gather evidence in your residence pertaining to the case.” She heard footsteps come into the door and looked over. Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb arrived, along with several forensic specialists carrying briefcases. “Check everywhere, start with the bathroom first. Look for any signs of blood of removed gore.”

The sergeant and constable nodded and led the forensic team into the house. Frank Tucker choked on his words, his face turning red with a mix of anger and confusion. “Inspector! Inspector! You made a mistake! The killer is the Splitter, why aren’t you looking for the serial killer!”

“Mr. Frank Tucker.” Inspector May groaned. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say as of now will be recorded and used against you in court of law. You also have the right to an attorney. If you don’t have one, we will appoint a lawyer to defend on your beh--”

“INSPECTOR! LISTEN TO MEEEE!” Frank Tucker lunged forward, only to be gripped by Jenny and Jackson as they fixed the handcuffs on his arms. “YOU GOT THE WRONG MAN! I SWEAR, I LOVE SARAH! SHE IS MY WIFE! I WOULD NEVER—haaack—NEVER! EVER—wheeze—HARM, HA, HAAA, HAAAAAAANNNN—”

Coughs and wheezes burst from Frank Tucker’s mouth. The more he tried to speak, the more his face turned from red to blue. He lurched over, knees buckled, and he suddenly fell over to the side, knocking Jenny and Jackson onto their knees.

“Sh—Hold him still!” Inspector May raced over and searched the man’s pockets. After turning out his pockets to spill his wallet and loose change, she found an inhaler. A hard shake, popped the cap off, and shoved it into Frank Tucker’s mouth, motioning him to inhale. A press, deep breaths, the color in his face stopped darkening but his eyes were dazed. Once his reaction was settled, the inspector clawed a hand over her face. “Get an ambulance. Now!”

== TO BE CONTINUED ==>