"Can you state your full name for me?" asked the cop after getting me sat down at the blocky steel table with bars for handcuffs and the incredibly uncomfortable chair.

"Conrad Nathaniel Keller," I said, making sure I was loud enough for whatever listening devices in the room to pick up.

"I appreciate trying to be heard, but shouting isn't necessary. Just talk normally and I'll ask if you need to repeat anything, okay? Let's just start from the beginning, tell me about everything from when you woke up yesterday to when you called the police this morning," said Sturgis. He was being kind, clearly the good cop of the two partners even if his counterpart wasn't here.

"I got up yesterday, I was a little late but it was fine because I wasn't due to be on site until Monday-"

"I'm sorry, what do you do for work?"

"Oh, I'm an electrician," I said. Silence stretched for a moment because I wasn't sure where to go from there before continuing with "For Electrify. We're contractors."

"Very interesting. Sorry, you can finish your story, I'll try not to interrupt." I didn't believe it, but I continued anyways.

"I grabbed a protein bar I think. I usually have the Costco ones but I think I might have been out and skipped breakfast yesterday. I went into work at about ten, then I sat in my office and made plans. Just stuff for what kind of wiring, where it would need to go, that sort of thing. I did that for one house and started the next when next thing I knew it was one and I could take a lunch break, so I left and got a burger. Big Boy Burgers, you know the place. I got the animal farm with fries. I didn't get a drink, I have my own sodas at home if I wanted them."

"Did you go home?"

"No, I went to a park, the one just off of exit eighteen."

"I know the one. You just ate your burger in your car?"

"I ate it in the pavilion there. It gives people the chance to walk up and chat. I don't like eating alone," I clarified. I tried to give the best and most detailed answers I could but I kept leaving out details I thought were irrelevant. "I finished my food, threw the trash away a garbage can as I walked back to my car. I was a little late again, but I didn't have much to do so it was fine. Or so I thought. I got back to my office and started working on the house I hadn't finished yet, then when I finished that one I did one more, and by then it was almost ten, so I left. People don't really work late, they tend to do everything early then leave, but I had a lot to do. They turned off the lights and locked the doors on me so I made my way to the front doors with the lights off and locked the door behind me. I drove home, came in and checked the mail. There wasn't much, one bill and a bunch of junk mail. It should be on the counter in the kitchenette, I can't remember what all of it was for."

"That's fine, anything you can remember."

"I remember my roommates were asleep, so I tried to be quiet. I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and took a shower, then I went to bed. Then there was this crash, like glass shattering. It echoed though. It stuck out because nothing echoes in our tiny apartment. It woke me up, and I think it woke Jack up, I'm not sure, he might have already been awake. I went out, trying to find what broke, then when we couldn't find anything we figured it had to be in Kaylyn's room. She wasn't responding when we yelled or when we knocked on the door, so Jack tried to break the door down. I stopped him and convinced him everything was okay. He went to go make something, I'm not sure. I tried knocking one more time, telling Kaylyn Jack was making breakfast when I saw the carpet turning red under her door. I kicked it open, it took a couple of tries. Then I called the police before I started panicking." My breath was starting to shorten again, so I closed my eyes and focused. In, out, in, out, in, focus Conrad, out. "That's everything that happened."

"Could you describe the shattering noise?" Sturgis asked.

"It was like. . . someone had dropped an expensive vase in an echo chamber. The sound just kept going until it faded into nothing."

"It didn't sound like a window breaking or anything?"

"No, it was different. Was there a broken window?" I asked. Anything to help with my side of the investigation.

"No, there wasn't. At least it didn't look like it, the curtains weren't moving but there also wasn't much of a breeze this morning. You know how Missouri summers are."

"I guess so. There was something else too, less of an experience and more of a feeling," I said. I wasn't sure how to put 'there weren't ghosts in my apartment' in a way that wouldn't make me sound crazy. "The apartment seemed empty this morning. Not like anything was gone, but there was a sort of presence missing. I think that's what threw us off after the shattering sound and made us go a little wild."

"Wild?" That probably wasn't the best choice of words, but it was too late.

"It's hard to explain. We were acting like we expected something to happen because it felt wrong in there before we knew anything was wrong. We reacted to glass breaking and our friend being quiet by trying to break down her door for gods sake."

"I see. Jack mentioned that it seemed off, but he said you were more attuned to that sort of thing so he tried to let you handle the situation. He also said you aren't used to this kind of stress like he is. The words he used were 'It's like the first time on the field, he doesn't know what to do with all the information', would you say that's accurate?" Sturgis said. That was a weird question.

"I guess."

"He seems to respect you, but he also seems to understand how little you've really had to struggle."

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"I guess I have had a pretty easy life." What was he getting at? This didn't make any sense.

"Just ruminating. You don't remember anything else? Nothing the night before or in the morning? Even a weird dream that night? It could be subconscious recognition of sounds," Sturgis seemed to plead. He went from almost accusational to pleading in a moment. Is this normal? I thought.

"Nothing. I think I was too tired, it had been a long day. I'm sure that won't be a problem from now on. I'll never sleep again. . ." I trailed off. Thinking about it made me sick and a sob choked the sound off. "Sorry, I'm okay."

"It's okay, take your time. Do you know anyone who would want her hurt? Or maybe showed frustration that seemed a bit too strong against her?" Sturgis was speaking slowly and clearly when he asked the question, leaning with his elbows on the table and his hands clasped together in front of him.

I tried to think. I knew she was a bit of a flirt, a new guy every week kind of girl, but the guys usually weren't too broken up about it, at least not the few breakups I had personally witnessed. Someone like that always had people begging to get her back, but she didn't have any stalkers she told us about.

"Not that she told us. The few breakups I saw were pretty tame. She always did a good job of making them feel good about how it ended."

"Few break ups? How long have you known each other?"

"Let's see. . . Three years give or take," I tried to remember.

We'd met my senior year of college while I was hanging out with Jack. We were applying to jobs so we could get to work as soon as we graduated and looking at apartments nearby. We had both decided to just stay in dorms throughout school, no reason to add any stress preemptively. Kaylyn had approached, inserting herself into the conversation, saying she was going to be an accountant nearby, already accepted to a firm twenty minutes from the apartment we were looking at. We needed a third roommate to afford the place anyways, and she was looking for an apartment. Next thing we knew she was living with us and we were good friends.

"It was a pretty tame three years, I think. No one did anything crazy, or at least too crazy. Nothing that would get her killed anyways." I finished. A sip of water revealed how dehydrated I truly was. I had sat in there forever with that water in front of me, forgotten in the chaos of the situation. I finished the paper cup, hand shaking as I lowered it back to the table.

"Alright. Nothing else to tell me? Anything could help, I want you to understand that," Sturgis said as I put the cup back in place with a faint rattling sound.

"Nothing. I don't know how to help, but please let me know what I can do."

"We will. You can help in the future by calling us as soon as you remember anything about that night, here's my card. Call anytime of day, it doesn't matter. You remember something or even think you might remember something soon put your phone to your ear. Anything helps," Sturgis repeated as he pulled a card out of his pocket and slid it over to me.

"Police officers have cards?" It was such a stupid question but I had to ask. Do they just carry them everywhere? It looked official, stuff like badge number and name imprinted in black on the waxy white card.

"You'd be surprised how often we need to use them," Sturgis laughed out, standing from the chair opposite me and approaching the door. "After you," he said, holding the door with his left hand and then waving me forward with his right.

"Oh, right," I responded, standing too quickly and hitting my thigh on the table as my vision went dark for a moment. "Ow. Stood up too fast."

"Happens to everyone. One time my mom fully passed out. Later found out she had an iron deficiency. Nothing serious, she just needed some supplements."

I just smiled and nodded. I appreciated all he was doing to lighten this situation, but I needed to feel every bit of the gravity so I could learn to live with it. At least, that's what the logical part of me wanted. Deep down, I just wanted to pretend she was still at work, like this was all just a bad dream. That's what everyone said in the movies where this happened, and honestly all my knowledge on this subject was from movies. I hadn't even read a true crime book or even a thriller.

"How'd it go?" Mr. Gator asked.

All I could do was nod slightly and give a subtle thumbs up. Speaking to ghosts in public at a time like this was bad, but in front of a cop was even worse.

"Good. I wish you the best, and remember, I'm always here if you need me." Mr. Gator was the best.

"Hey Conny, you okay?" asked Jack as I walked out.

"Yeah, I am. Oh, one question officer Sturgis," I said, realizing something that almost made me sick again.

"If I can I'll answer whatever questions you have," officer Sturgis replied.

"Who is supposed to break the news to her parents?" I didn't want to have to make the call, but it felt like the right thing to do.

"I see. We can do it, but if you would like to I don't see why we can't let you do it." He seemed uncomfortable but understanding. It's a job someone had to do and he was the one willing to do it, is what that look said.

"I think it should be one of us," said Jack.

"A close friend," I agreed, nodding along.

"I'll tell them you did it, just don't take too long, they have a right to know soon," officer Sturgis said. "We can send you home to pack a go bag, do either of you have places to stay?"

"No," I said quickly. Jack and Kaylyn were really the only friends I had that were still alive, and now Kaylyn wasn't even in t/hat category. My family was in Oregon, not close enough for me to investigate or keep my job.

"I think I know a guy we can stay with for a little while. At least if he hears the circumstances." Jack was the guy with connections. I worked residential and almost never talked to anyone other than construction workers, and then it was usually colored by frustration because they couldn't follow simple blueprints. Jack worked graphic design, he was constantly talking to companies and drawing up logo after logo, all while making friendships with anyone he came across. I didn't work that well with the living.

"Thanks. You call him and I'll tell Kaylyn's parents?" I asked.

"Are you sure? I can do it if you want. I know how hard this is hitting you," Jack said, trying to comfort me.

"I can do it. It's hitting you just as hard as it is me. You may be stronger, but much more and you'll break more than I did," I told him. "I think we're going to make those calls, then go pack a bag."

I walked out the front doors of the station, no one moving to stop me. I stepped to the side and looked through my contacts. The Dunne's lived only an hour out, so we were fairly close as far as adult friends of their daughter went. We had even been to thanksgiving once.

The first number to pull up was Mrs. Dunne. I hesitated before hitting call. This was going to be a hard conversation to have.

The phone made a shrill ringing noise as I held it up to my ear. One ring, two rings, on the third she picked up with "Hello, this is Emily Dunne."

"Hey Mrs. Dunne. This is Conrad." Just hearing her voice had made me choke up so the words came with a little croak.

"Conrad? Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry, but is Mr. Dunne there?" I barreled right past her question. I figured they would know the answer anyways after hearing me speak.

"Yes, let me get him." I heard the phone rustling before a shout of "Robert! The phone's for you!"

"Actually, I need to talk to both of you!" I shouted loud enough that hopefully I would still be heard.

"Hello?" Mr. Dunne's greeting was much more concise, if a little abrasive.

"Can you put the phone on speaker? You should sit down too."

After a moment Mr. Dunne said "We're both listening, what's the problem?"

I took a deep breath before saying "It's Kaylyn. She. . . She's been murdered."