For the umpteenth time since she caught Alna in her Ilene Dyson disguise, Marianna sat on Alna’s bed, legs crossed, as Alna clicked away at her laptop, trying to come up with yet more information on Emile Cope. After listening to Marianna’s poorly recorded interview with some earphones, Alna had commented that Ms. Ashworth’s clear defensive nature regarding Mr. Cope, while not completely out of place, was at least noteworthy. Since then, she’d been trying to dig up any possible evidence linking Mr. Cope to the murders, with minimal results.
This was shown when Alna leaned against the back of her chair, letting out an annoyed sigh.
“Nothing?” Marianna asked sympathetically.
“Not a thing,” Alna said. She turned to face Marianna, tired and annoyed. “It took me hours just to find some decent information about Cope. My initial assumption was that someone must be deliberately hiding him, and yet I can find no evidence of that, either.”
Marianna was tempted to ask how one would know how to look for such evidence, but refrained. Instead, she went with, “Well, have you found anything new? Anything at all?” If television and books were anything to go by, Marianna was certain any scrap of information could be useful. Gripping her pencil loosely, Marianna gave Alna her full attention.
Alna rubbed her forehead, scowling. “Nothing of importance.”
At that, she cast a wry look at the notebook in Marianna’s hand. Over the past couple of days, Marianna started taking notes on everything they learned regarding the murders. When Marianna settled herself on Alna’s bed, notebook in hand, Alna had given her a strange look, then turned to her laptop, muttering something to herself. Before Marianna could question Alna, her girlfriend told her to take precautions to ensure that her notes were not discovered. Her words, not Marianna’s.
“All right.” Marianna lowered her pen and pulled out her phone to check the time. Seven o’clock. Her parents wanted her home by eight, seeing as it was a school night. Actually, they would have preferred she didn’t leave the house at all, but that was only because of their recent discovery. “I think it’s time for a break.”
“Very well,” Alna agreed with palpable reluctance, exiting out of everything and logging off. Apparently, she had decided that disagreeing with Marianna on this was pointless. Considering Marianna snapped the laptop closed on her just yesterday when Alna rebuked her attempts to get her to hydrate, she thought it was a wise move. She smiled to herself.
“My mother will likely check on us shortly, anyway.” Alna shifted off the chair while Marianna ducked her head, hair forming a curtain around her face. When she glanced back up, Alna looked faintly amused. She offered a hand to assist Marianna to her feet, which she accepted.
Once in the kitchen, the two girls encountered Mr. Holt––or Aiden, as he kept telling Marianna to call him––sitting at the kitchen table, hard at work. There were papers spread over the surface of the table, containing information that Marianna couldn’t quite see from her position. Mr. Holt looked up from his phone, which he had been typing away at.
“What are you girls up to?” he asked kindly.
Although the question was innocent, Marianna wondered if it held an underlying meaning. It was a parent’s responsibility to wonder what their children got up to, after all. Especially when they were alone with a boyfriend or girlfriend. And Alna’s parents were far from ignorant, despite the many things Alna kept from them.
Alna seemed unruffled by Mr. Holt’s possible suspicions. “Change in scenery,” she said. She approached the cabinets, pulling out a white mug decorated with golden swirls. “Would you like anything to drink, Marianna?”
Marianna started a bit at that because she had been thinking of suggesting that Alna drink something. She herself got thirsty if she drank nothing within three hours.
“Some juice, please,” she replied. “If you have any.”
As Alna filled the metal teapot with water, Marianna took a seat across from Mr. Holt, noticing the complicated array of numbers on his papers. Mr. Holt cast a glance between them.
“Would you like me to leave you two alone?” he offered, already reaching out to gather up his things.
“No, no,” Marianna said, reaching out a hand as if to stop him. “Don’t let us kick you out. You’re fine.”
To reaffirm her statement, Marianna gave him a small smile. Marianna liked Alna’s father. He was kind to her and didn’t seem to have any problem with her being Alna’s girlfriend. They’d even had a few pleasant conversations.
Mr. Holt gave Marianna a thoughtful look before settling back down. Noticing the glance Marianna cast at his papers, he said, “Bank stuff” with a vague gesture. “You’d be surprised how much work I end up taking home with me.”
Mr. Holt worked at a bank in Brigate. In fact, she was fairly certain one of her uncles went to it. This wasn’t the first time Marianna had seen him doing homework, so to speak. She’d simply never asked, for fear of being nosy.
“Many jobs require people to put in extra time,” Alna said as she placed a glass of what Marianna assumed was cranberry juice on the table.
The look Mr. Holt shot his daughter was filled with such fondness that Marianna felt a pang in her chest. When was the last time her own parents looked at her that way? Not for weeks, it seemed.
“So, Mary,” Mr. Holt said while Alna settled into a chair beside her, waiting for the water to boil. “Have any plans for Halloween?” From the living room, Marianna could detect the sounds of gunfire emitting from the television. She wasn’t sure if the twins were playing a video game or watching something, but either way, it sounded rather violent.
“Not much,” Marianna replied, taking a sip of her juice. “My friends and I were thinking of going to a party, but we haven’t decided yet.” Remembering something, Marianna turned to Alna, who looked like she was only half paying attention to them. “That reminds me. Alna, my friends and I were thinking of going costume shopping this weekend. Would you like to come?”
Alna turned to face her. She paused, looking thoughtful. “Your friend did invite me. I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” she said in a mild voice.
The metal teapot whistled at that moment, alerting everyone that the water was finished boiling. Alna got up and fixed herself some tea while Mr. Holt gave Marianna a look she couldn’t identify. If she had to guess, she would say he looked… Pleased? Weird.
A minute later, Alna sat back down, removing her phone from her pocket and setting it on the table. She took a sip of her tea, Marianna mimicking her with her juice.
“Where’s your mom tonight?” Marianna asked, remembering she hadn’t seen Mrs. Holt at all since she arrived.
“She got called in,” Alna replied, with an air that suggested her mind was elsewhere. Stuck on their “detective work,” no doubt. Marianna never knew what to call it. “And then she had to perform emergency surgery. There’s a good chance she won’t be home for hours yet.”
“I hope it turns out all right,” Marianna said. Alna flashed her a wry smile that caused Marianna’s heart to pick up its tempo.
“I hope she gets home at a decent time,” Mr. Holt piped in with furrowed eyebrows. “I hate it when she runs herself ragged.” The amount of concern in his voice warmed Marianna’s heart. She took another sip of juice to hide her smile.
“I quite agree,” Alna said without inflection.
Marianna glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and reached over to place her hand atop Alna’s, giving it a slight squeeze. Alna looked over at her, eyes softening. A series of gunfire was heard from the living room, and Alna frowned in its direction. Mr. Holt, too, seemed unsettled, as he pushed his chair back, muttering something about checking on the boys. He left the papers scattered across the table.
“He doesn’t think they should be exposed to too much violence yet, even if it is fictional.” Alna sipped her tea, staring straight ahead. “I can’t say I disagree.”
“Yeah.” Marianna leaned against the back of her chair.
It was that moment that one of Alna’s knees brushed against Marianna’s leg, causing her pulse to quicken yet again. Which was ridiculous, considering they’d known each other for some time now, the past three weeks spent as a couple.
“Marianna?” Alna asked, and Marianna blushed when she realized she must have missed something Alna had said.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “Guess I spaced out for a moment. What were you saying?”
Alna eyed her thoughtfully. “Nothing of particular importance. I was saying––” Alna’s phone let out a beep, cutting her off. Alna gave it a disinterested look, then stilled, reaching out and grabbing the mobile device. Marianna spotted the word “news” on the screen before it was Alna turned it away from her. Alna got alerts about news articles. It didn’t surprise Marianna much, considering what she did in her spare time. In the living room, Marianna heard the video game/movie turn off, one of the twins complaining as Mr. Holt tried to settle them down.
Marianna peered at her girlfriend’s face, noticing the perturbed look she wasn’t even trying to mask.
“Alna? What’s wrong?”
Alna looked up at her grimly.
“Celine Wilks is dead.”
***
Marianna twisted a lock of hair around her finger, surveying her surroundings. Behind her, Alna was silent as she worked at the lock of Celine Wilks’s house. Marianna had meant it when she’d come to the decision to accept Alna, but that didn’t stop a weight from settling in her stomach. A sick feeling that told her what she was doing was wrong.
Once again, she reminded herself they were doing it for a good reason, even if their methods were questionable.
“Are you almost done?” Marianna asked, keeping her voice low. She felt like a fugitive.
It’s for a good reason.
“This method of breaking in is sketchy,” Alna said, sounding annoyed. Marianna heard a soft rattle as Alna worked the plastic card between the door and its frame. “It takes some time. Or perhaps I’m not skilled at it. Either way, I would have much preferred a window.”
Swallowing hard, Marianna joked weakly, “Well, I’m sure if Ms. Wilks was alive, she’d apologize for not having any convenient windows you could break into.”
Alna let out a quiet huff at that.
“Okay,” she said after another minute of tense waiting. Marianna felt tense, anyway. Alna seemed at ease with the entire situation. “I’ve got it; we’re in.”
“Thank God,” Marianna breathed out. Casting one last quick look at the back alley, Marianna turned and rushed in after Alna. Turquoise curtains fluttered in her wake.
Once inside, Alna slid her purse off her arm and opened it, pulling out a carbon monoxide detector, which she turned on. It didn’t look all that different from a smoke detector: white and round in shape, with a light that would presumably flash red when it detected carbon monoxide. In fact, when Alna first presented it, Marianna was bewildered, mistaking it for a smoke detector.
Marianna fixed her gaze on it, waiting for a high-pitched wailing to emit, but nothing happened. There were no alarming sounds in the house, either. Alna pursed her lips.
“We should be safe now. If you get a headache or experience any other symptoms, let me know immediately.” She leveled Marianna with a hard, steely look––something Marianna couldn’t remember having directed at her before. Alna sure knew how to get her point across. Marianna swallowed a lump that appeared in her throat and nodded.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Right,” Alna affirmed. She glanced down at the detector with a frown before holding it out to Marianna. “If you would hold onto this, I’d like to keep it with us at all times. For safety.”
Marianna took the detector without complaint, holding it against her sternum.
“Now,” Alna announced, and Marianna couldn’t help but wince at the volume of her voice. Alna seemed confident that they were alone in this house. Marianna wasn’t so sure. “Keep your eyes open for anything that seems even strange or out of place. And try to avoid leaving any traces of your presence.”
As if to reinforce her orders, Alna bent down and removed her shoes, leaving them on a purple mat decorated with green swirls. Marianna did the same, scanning the patch of floor she had been standing on for any traces of mud or debris. She brushed some dried mud onto the mat with a gloved hand. When she straightened back up, Alna had already crossed the kitchen they’d entered and was busy examining the stove.
Marianna forced herself to look away from the evidence of a destroyed life, if only for the moment. She walked over to Alna, her socked feet whispering across the floor. There was a miniature picture on Celine’s black fridge of the woman herself, young and beautiful and unaware of the fate that awaited her. There was a man in the photo, kissing her on the cheek.
Despite herself, Marianna couldn’t help but think of the devastation Celine’s boyfriend must be feeling. To know he had escaped death because he had been gone the night she’d been poisoned…
Marianna gave herself a mental shake, focusing on Alna, who continued to examine the stove.
“This does not appear to be a gaslit stove,” Alna said. Whether to herself or Marianna, she wasn’t sure.“It’s unlikely this released the carbon monoxide.”
Yet, despite her doubts, Alna lifted one of the metal spirals from its nest, leaning forward to examine the source of heat as much as she could without taking the device apart. After a moment, she set the spiral back down, eyebrows pulling together. The detector remained silent.
Next, Alna examined the oven but was quick to dismiss that. Marianna followed in silence as Alna went to the living room next, scanning everything carefully, pulling the metal door of the fireplace open to peer inside. She dismissed that, too, but not before sticking her head inside, gathering her black tresses with one hand.
“Hmm,” Alna hummed, sitting back on her heels. Marianna saw her eye one of the air vents in the hardwood floor.
While Alna lifted the plastic cage of the vent, Marianna examined her surroundings, an unbidden shiver making its way up her spine. Nothing seemed suspicious to her, although being in the house of a dead woman was… Well, sinister was one way of putting it. That seemed like an understatement, though. Marianna ran her eyes along the grey walls, followed the length of the brown couch, and stopped when something caught her eye. She stepped closer, kneeling so she could get a better look.
“Marianna?” Alna’s voice sounded behind her. “Have you found something?"
“Maybe?” Marianna replied, her answer sounding more like a question itself. She felt more than saw Alna appear behind her and shivered again, for an entirely different reason.
“Oh, yes,” Alna breathed, her breath brushing the back of Marianna’s head. “This is wonderful.” She, too, peered at the single strand of cherry hair, resting half underneath the couch. Given its location, the hair was partially immersed in dust, which Marianna couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at.
Alna reached from behind Marianna, as if to grasp it, but drew back. “I didn’t bring anything to store it in.”
Marianna could hear the self-reproach in her voice. She blinked once, not understanding how taking a single strand of hair with them would help anything. It wasn’t like they had any equipment to identify its DNA or something.
Still, she said, “Wait here.”
She put down the detector and pushed herself into a standing position as Alna moved out of her way. Marianna walked back into the kitchen they had departed minutes before and grabbed a tissue from a box depicting white dots meant to be stars she’d spotted earlier. She doubted Celine’s boyfriend would notice one was missing. Especially in his state of grief. Marianna frowned a bit at that last thought as Alna came back into view.
“Use this,” she suggested, handing the tissue to Alna, who accepted it with reluctance. Noticing this, Marianna added, “I doubt he’d notice the difference.”
“I know that,” Alna admitted. “I prefer to be extremely cautious in delicate circumstances such as this.”
As Alna crouched down once more, pinching the strand between two fingers, Marianna couldn’t resist the urge to attempt another weak joke. “Well, I doubt there’s anyone who would notice something like that. Except maybe you.” She picked up the detector.
Straightening up and placing the tissue in her purse, Alna gave Marianna a wry smile. “Believe it or not, even I would find myself hard-pressed to notice such a small detail.” And then, almost as an afterthought, Alna added, “Dear Whitlock.”
Marianna gave Alna a surprised look at the sudden nickname but wasted no time in trailing after her girlfriend as Alna peered out the window of the front door, and checked the back, making sure no one had arrived at the house. When she confirmed that they were safe, Alna grasped Marianna’s hand in an absent-minded gesture, and led her to the hallway located not ten feet from the living room.
Alna crouched down, Marianna following suit. Alna examined yet another air vent, this one a large, metal vent mounted on the wall. “I wonder…”
The position she was in was becoming uncomfortable, so, as Alna opened her purse and pulled out a screwdriver, Marianna shifted into a kneeling position. She watched Alna intently, who was holding the screwdriver next to one of the four screws and giving the screw a thoughtful look.
Marianna was no expert, but she could see that the screwdriver was too big to do the job. She wondered if Alna had any kind of backup.
“The screwdriver is incompatible, but I suppose I shall have to make do,” Alna explained, answering Marianna’s unvoiced question. Even from her position at Alna’s right, Marianna could see the troubled look crossing her girlfriend’s face. “I abhor leaving scratches behind, but I suppose I shall have to simply use caution.” Despite her reluctance, Alna set about her task with haste, eyebrows furrowing with concentration.
“Well, you know what they say about desperate times,” Marianna said––hopefully in a helpful manner.
“Indeed.”
Alna set to work. Marianna leaned forward to get a better view, watching Alna manipulate the screwdriver. When the first screw had been removed with minimal scratch marks left behind, Alna asked Marianna to check for any potential arrivals again. Marianna set down the carbon monoxide detector and went to do so. After peering out the windows as discreetly as possible, Marianna returned with the report that they were still safe.
Alna nodded, already halfway through the second screw. Judging by how slow Alna was working, the task must have been proving to be difficult, as the screwdriver was at least two times too big for this specific task.
A few minutes passed in silence––Alna wincing and grimacing with every scratch she left behind––before Alna removed the final screw. Marianna, having been holding the vent up, lowered it to the floor, little particles of dust shooting into the air. Alna studied the vent with care.
“Someone’s tampered with this recently,” Alna observed out loud, and Marianna was certain this time that it was for her benefit. Alna ran a black-gloved finger along the slanted bars, gathering a small amount of dust on the tip. “You can tell because––”
“Because if it hadn’t been, there’d be more dust, right?” Marianna interrupted. Alna’s head came up, and Marianna met her eyes, which had a pleased glint in them.
“Exactly,” she confirmed. Breaking her gaze from Marianna’s, Alna leaned forward to peer into the vent, black hair falling over her shoulders. “Here it is,” Alna breathed a moment later. She reached for something inside the vent, and pulled out a moment later, cradling a small stove with a propane bottle attached to it. The stove was the kind that someone might take on a camping trip. It was small and silver, with two burners on top that would produce flames when lit. Whoever had put it in Celine’s vent would have had to first get inside without being seen, take the vent covering off, start the stove with burning themselves or causing something even more disastrous… All taking place while Celine was asleep in her bed.
“Wow,” Marianna said, thoroughly disturbed. “Someone sure went through a lot of trouble to pull this off.”
“It appears so.” Alna continued to examine the propane bottle as if it were of particular importance.
Marianna shifted, feeling uneasy as she eyed the bottle. “So, it’s empty, right? We’re safe?”
“If it were not, the detector would have gone off by now,” Alna replied, giving the detector a pointed look, which was resting on the floor. Marianna’s face flushed a bit.
“Right.”
Setting down the propane bottle and stove, Alna peered into the vent once more, and then lifted the covering. “If you would hold this for me, please. I must put this back on.”
“Okay,” Marianna agreed, holding the covering steady as Alna started to, with difficulty, screw it back in place. This task took longer than its predecessor, and by the time the vent covering was back in place, a good ten minutes had gone by. Judging by her pinched expression, Alna was aware of this.
“We should clean up, and then get out of here,” Alna said once the covering was sitting snug in its place. She placed the screwdriver in her purse and removed the propane bottle from the stove. And then, gesturing to the stove, she asked, “Would you mind carrying this? I may examine it before I dispose of it.”
“Sure,” Marianna agreed in a faint voice. She’d been able to push away the unsettled feeling this place gave her for a little while, but now that she wasn’t focused on watching Alna or checking that they were safe, she felt another shiver run up her spine.
The two girls went through the rooms they’d been in, cleaning up after themselves, and removing any signs of their presence. That done, they made haste to grab their items and proceed to the back door where Alna peered through the curtains to make sure the coast was clear.
“A man is walking his dog in the back alley,” Alna said in a soft voice. “If you would check the front, please, I would like to know if we are still safe.”
Marianna did so, going to the front door and peering outside, balancing the stove and detector on one arm. A few vehicles drove by, disturbing some orange and yellow leaves resting on the road as they did so. This was one of the more homey parts of the city, consisting of regular houses instead of flats or apartment buildings. Much like where Marianna lived.
A girl with pigtails rode by on her bike, but there appeared to be no sign of Celine’s boyfriend. Thank God for that.
“We’re good,” Marianna reported as she reentered the kitchen, approaching Alna from behind.
“Indeed, we are.” Alna eased the curtains open, leaving the house as they’d found it. “And we are leaving.”
And so they did. Marianna and Alna exited through the way they entered, keeping a careful eye out for anyone who might spot them. There was a heart-stopping moment that occurred when Alna yanked Marianna to one side of the garage, just in time to avoid being spotted by a man across the back alley. Alna was frowning in concentration, and when the man pulled out what looked like a cigarette, Alna let out a huff of annoyance. As the man brought the cigarette to his lips, Alna looked at their surroundings, no doubt calculating how they could leave Celine’s backyard without being spotted.
Marianna forced herself to slow down her previously quickened breathing, trying to force herself to stay calm. She shifted a bit, clutching the stove and detector. She felt too exposed out here, too vulnerable. Especially with this thing in her hands, with its metal surface reflecting the sunlight.
Marianna’s attention refocused when Alna readjusted her grip on Marianna’s elbow and eased her along the side of the garage. The man disappeared from view as they left the corner, and soon they reached the other corner. The man was still outside, smoke swirling up into the air. Thankfully, Marianna couldn’t see anyone else.
“Come,” Alna murmured right next to Marianna’s ear, her voice little more than a breath. Marianna snapped her eyes to Alna’s face and gave her a small nod to convey her acknowledgment.
Alna’s hand never released Marianna’s elbow as she turned away from her girlfriend, easing them toward the front yard. They all but slid along the fence, and for one, wild moment, Marianna felt very much like she had departed from her own, normal world and had instead entered a spy movie. She bit back a hysterical giggle that tried to force itself past her lips.
Marianna hadn’t even realized that, at some point, she’d stopped breathing, opting instead to hold her breath. By the time they walked across the front yard and were starting down a sidewalk, Marianna’s lungs were screaming at her. She let her breath out in a rush, finally releasing the nervous giggles she had been holding back. Alna turned curious blue eyes on her.
“Well,” Marianna said, with a smile that must have appeared a bit unstable. “That was…scary, but kind of fun.”
Alna continued peering at her curiously, seeming unconcerned with watching where she was going. “I’ve always thought so,” she replied, sounding thoughtful. “It’s invigorating, in a way.”
“It is,” Marianna agreed. Despite her nerves over the entire thing, Marianna had to admit that something about the entire experience had been exciting. Almost fun. Of course, it would take Mariana until after the fact to appreciate it. The interview with Ms. Ashworth was different. It was risky, yes, but not as much as breaking into someone’s house was.
Marianna smiled at nothing in particular, her heart rate calming down. She moved the stove and detector to one arm, and squeezed Alna’s hand, leaning her head against her shoulder as they walked on, lapsing into a brief, comfortable silence.
It wasn’t until about five minutes later, as they were waiting at a bus stop, that Marianna said anything.
“So,” she started, “what do we––” She was cut off when Alna used her grip on Marianna’s hand to swing her around, a hand cradling Marianna’s neck as Alna pulled her in for a deep kiss. Marianna, startled but not put off, quickly responded, returning the kiss. By the time Alna pulled back, Marianna felt a little lightheaded, though whether it was from lack of oxygen or the intensity of the kiss, she couldn’t tell.
“I’m sorry,” Alna said with a little, cheeky grin. “I believe I interrupted you. What were you saying?”
“Um,” Marianna mumbled, feeling dazed as she gripped her cargo tightly. “I was going to ask what we do now.” She blinked a few times as she attempted to remove her brain from the blender it had been shoved into. “What was that for?”
Beaming once more, Alna cupped Marianna’s cheek. “I could tell you were nervous earlier, forced out of your comfort zone. And yet, you persevered. You found some evidence that, while it complicates things, may very well prove helpful.” She brushed another kiss across Marianna’s lips, too quick for her to even think about reciprocating. “I’m impressed with how you handled yourself.”
“Yeah, well.” She felt the telltale warmth on her cheeks. “You did a good job, too. You’re really good at this whole detecting thing.”
A glint appeared in Alna’s eyes. “Dear Whitlock, I do thank you.”
And they shared one last, sweet kiss before pulling away from each other, waiting for the city bus to arrive.
They spent the ride back to Alna’s place in silence, broken only by idle conversations of the people around them, and some music serving as background noise. Marianna, deciding to indulge herself, reached out for Alna’s hand and grasped it. Alna allowed this with ease, their hands remaining atop Marianna’s thigh for the rest of the ride.