It was Sunday morning and Halle had just gotten out of bed. She came out of her bedroom and walked down the hall of her apartment to the spare bedroom where her little brother, Jay, was sleeping. She opened the door.
“Jay, do you want some breakfast? Jay! Jay! It’s time to wake up.”
The young boy rubbed his eyes and yawned.
“Do you want some breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Do pancakes sound good?”
The thought of pancakes with maple syrup woke the boy up instantly and he sat up in bed. “I love pancakes!” he said enthusiastically as he got out of bed.
His sister Halle grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchen. She began getting the food out of the cabinets that she needed to make homemade pancakes with while he sat at the kitchen table, rubbing his eyes.
"It’s been a long time since I’ve had pancakes for breakfast.”
“This is really brunch.” They had slept late, and it was almost noon.
As Halle was pouring batter into the pan, she remembered she hadn’t picked up her mail the previous day. “Can you do a favor for me?”
“What?” Jay asked enthusiastically. She walked over to her purse and looked for her keys. When she didn’t find them, she looked through all the magazines on her living room table that she wished she had thrown away, but still didn’t see them. Then she remembered that they were in her jacket pocket. She pulled them out and went through them until she found her mailbox key. “Do you know where the mailboxes are by the swimming pool?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to go down to number 215 and get my mail. Can you do that for me?”
He nodded his head.
“When you get back you can get some plates out and we can eat.”
She handed him the keys and he ran out the door. The last three pancakes were in the frying pan and she pulled out the maple syrup and a coffee cup and squirted it until the cup was three quarters full.
Jay walked in at about this time, “Hey, I thought I was going to set the table.”
“This way we can eat sooner. You get the silverware and turn on the television.”
He did what he was told and was placing the silverware next to his sister’s plate when he saw the picture on the television.
“Isn’t this a friend of yours?”
“What?” Halle asked as she was putting the pancakes on the main plate.
“Isn’t this a friend of yours? Melanie?”
Halle walked over and put the breakfast on the table. She saw Melanie’s picture on the television. The reporter was speaking.
“A young woman, Melanie Matheson, was brutally murdered in her own apartment yesterday. Her next door neighbor, Tiffany Walker, came over last evening when she discovered the body.”
“Oh no!”
“Melanie’s dead?”
“Come on. Go change and get your stuff together. I have to take you back to dad’s now.”
He did as he was told and they rushed out to Halle’s car.
“What happened to Melanie?” he asked while they were driving along the highway.
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” Halle said.
She was trying to hold back a tear, but they just started flowing. They were the silent one’s, but he saw them anyway. Seeing his sister cry hurt him and he started crying as well. He felt the tears fall onto his lip and he tasted the salt while he was moving over to hold his sister’s hand.
She looked over at her little brother. He was small for his age, and it made him seem extra sweet.
“You are so kind,” she said as he gently squeezed her so she would know how he felt. Halle thought of how soft and little his hands were and she wondered about Melanie’s murder. Why did we all start out so innocently and yet some people grow up and kill innocent women. She looked over at her brother and thanked God he would never turn out that way. It just didn’t make sense.
As she was pulling up to her father’s house there was a cop car pulling up at the same time.
“What is happening here?" she thought aloud as she looked over at her brother. After she finished parking her car in the driveway, she told her little brother to get his stuff and go inside. “I have to talk to the police officers.”
“What do they want?”
“When you go inside that is what I am going to find out.”
“Can I help you?” she asked as she got out of her car.
“Who are you ma’am?”
“I’m Halle Massey. My father lives here.”
“Mr. Michael Massey?”
“Yes.”
"I’m detective Chanello, and this is my partner, detective Mangino. We’re here investigating the murder of Melanie Matheson. Did you know her?”
“Yes. I just saw it on the television. I was dropping my little brother off and I was on my way to see what happened. Can you tell me?”
“Let me just tell you it wasn’t a pretty sight. It looks as though someone beat her over the head, with a bat or something.”
“My God,” Halle said.
“How did you know the victim?”
“We we’re good friends. We went to school together in high school and eventually went to the same community college.”
“There was a note in her house that had. Massey name on it with this address.”
“We had a party here a couple of nights ago. She must have written down the directions when I invited her last week. My dad just moved here and she hadn’t been here before.”
"There were no directions," said Mangino.
“What happened at this party?” detective Chanello asked with an attitude.
“We socialized, played cards and swam”
“Were there any problems during the party?”
"No."
"This note was found under a cushion on her couch. This is suspicious."
"I don't know why it was there."
Mr. Massey was looking out the glass door. He sent Jay into his room and was inhaling a cigarette like it was his last request. He hadn’t expected the cops to be at his house, at least this soon.
“Think! Think dammit?”
He had seen the news on the television. If the cops were here, they must think he had something to do with Melanie’s murder. “Why would they think that?”
“There were no problems at all,” Halle said to the police officers.
Mr. Massey came out of the house. “Can I help you? Why are you crying?” he asked with concern.
“Melanie’s been murdered!” Halle responded with alarm.
“What?” he said pretending to be in disbelief and shock.
“Did you already hear about it on television or anything?” Chanello asked Mr. Massey.
“No.” He was lying.
“Did you know Melanie sir?”
“Yes. She and Halle were friends. She seemed like a nice girl. She liked to laugh and have fun.”
At this time a news truck pulled up and a camera man and a lady with a microphone were getting out of it.
“Do you think we could go inside?” detective Mangino asked.
“I don’t think that is a good idea.”
“Are you trying to hide something sir?”
“No. I just don’t want you in my house while my son is here. He lost his mother only a short time ago, and I don’t want him to think anything is going to happen to me.”
“There isn’t anything that is going to happen to you sir. We would just like some privacy away from the news crew,” Kate Mangino responded.
“That is of course you haven’t done anything,” added Jim Chanello suspiciously.
The police officers both thought Mr. Massey’s reply sounded strange, almost guilty, but there wasn’t anything they could do.
He nodded and spoke,"No,” again.
“Well, here is my card. Either of you can call me night or day if you think of anything.”
Halle and her father started walking toward the house while the detectives were going towards their car when detective Chanello turned around. “I have one more question. There was a piece of paper at the murder scene with your name and address followed by cp5. Do you know what cp5 means?”
He looked at Halle again and then back at the police.
“NO,” they both answered simultaneously.
The reporter was calling out their name when they slammed the door behind them. Halle started crying and went to her old bedroom to lay down. Michael walked over to the bar and poured himself a double. “cp5.” He knew exactly what that means. “Time to call a lawyer,” he thought nervously.
Little Jay was in his room looking at pictures of his mother. He wondered why people died, especially women. He got down on his knees and prayed. “God, I don’t want anything to happen to my daddy or my sister. Please don’t hurt them the way you have hurt others. Please don’t hurt me.”
As he was finishing his dad walked in. “Are you alright?”
“Why do people have to die?”
“Sometimes when we’re bad, God takes our life before our time. It’s to teach others a lesson and make them afraid.”
“Was Melanie bad? She seemed so nice. I liked her a lot and wanted her to come over and swim with me. Was she bad?”
“I’m afraid she was.”
“What did she do?”
“I don’t know exactly, but God does. If she hadn’t done something very evil He wouldn’t have taken her. Hopefully all the evil women out there will learn a lesson and not make the same mistakes she did. Now, I have to go to work for awhile, but I’ll be back soon, and we can do anything you want.”
“Bye,” his son said as he walked out the door.
Mr. Massey got into his Ford truck and pulled out of the driveway towards his office. The mixture of feelings he had was overwhelming. On the one hand he felt pure love for his boy while on the other he felt hatred for Melanie.
He pulled into the driveway of his office and parked his car. When he went into the office he grabbed all the dirty magazines he could find and placed them into a trash bag: Just in case the police decided to pay him a visit here. After he threw them in a dumpster at the end of the street, he drove back home.
-----------------------------
Marco was peeping out his window every so often. He would only look for a second and then start pacing around his living room. Melanie’s apartment was cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. At first there had just been one cop car, but more quickly followed.
There was a knock on the door. He quickly moved to the television set and turned it off. He yelled he was coming.
Marco walked to his front door after shutting the bedroom door behind him. He gave his best smile as he opened the door. “Hello!”
“Hello sir. I am Detective King. In case you haven’t noticed a crime has been committed behind your apartment.”
“Yes. I did notice all the cop cars over there. What happened?”
“A girl has been murdered. Did you know her?”
“No. I don’t know anyone at this complex, except for Melissa, who rented me this apartment. I only moved in a couple of days ago.”
“During that time, have you noticed any suspicious activity outside?”
“I have not noticed anything.”
The police officer staired at the man for a second. His eyes were small and beady, and he looked crazy, like he had recently been out of a mental institution.
“On the other hand, this is L.A., and half the people look or act that way,” the officer thought.
“What is your name and occupation sir?”
“I am Marco Hernandez. I own a small convenience store down in San Diego. I am looking to expand up here in L.A.”
“Lucky us,” the officer thought. “Did you see anything unusual across the way?”
“No.”
“Did you see any suspicious people or cars?”
“No.”
“Did you hear any strange noises or screams?”
“No,” Marco said
“Thank you for your time.” The officer handed him his card. “If you can think of anything else, call me.”
“I will. Do crimes like this happen around here often? It looked like such a nice neighborhood.”
“This is the first murder committed around here in a long time.”
“I hope it’s the last as well.”
“You and me both. Remember, don’t hesitate to call if you can think of anything." The officer left and went to the next apartment for information.
Marco walked into the bedroom and looked out the window at all the police bustling around. The thought of murder aroused him, and he watched the police intently with a smile on his face.
Across the way Dr. Jones was carefully walking around the crime scene with his assistant Eva. They had been at the crime scene for hours, but Dr. Jones wasn't tired. Eva was a Spanish lady with very beautiful Mexican skin and round, full lips. Not only was she beautiful but she was intelligent as well. Dr. Jones found it very hard to concentrate around her.
He was casually dating several women at this time. While Eva knew of his reputation with the lady’s, and he knew she knew, he wasn’t sure if this helped or hurt his chance with her.
Although she was beautiful, he didn’t hire her until after he saw her college transcripts. It made him feel like his motives weren’t ulterior. If the truth be told he probably would have hired her anyway. When someone asked him what she looked like he described her as a Mexican Barbie doll. She was a perfect ten and she knew it, but his relationships usually didn’t work out for very long. Not only did they usually break it off quickly, he couldn’t think of one woman he was still friends with. With all the women he dated who had the time?
“Here is her purse Dr. Jones,” Eva said.
“Is there a driver’s license in there?”
“Yes. Do you want me to tag it separately?”
“Go ahead. I’m going to get a quick set of prints.” He did a few more things at the crime scene than other medical examiners would.
“Look at her skull. I guess we have cerebral damage due to blunt force with a hard object.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Dr. Jones said trying to make Eva sound smart.
“Melanie.”
“What?”
“Her name is Melanie,” said Eva putting a human touch on a dead body.
“Why would someone do something like this?” Eva asked. There doesn’t seem to be any sexual overtones to this crime, and there isn’t any burglary. Someone just walked right in here and popped her over the head,” Eva continued.
“Don’t try to understand psychotic behavior,” Dr. Jones said, “because no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to. Psychologists have been studying convicted psychotics for years now, and they all have their reasons as to why they do crap like this, but I don’t think a normal person would consider it a good one.”
“That’s for sure.” They finished up at the crime scene and headed back to the Forensic Laboratory. Eva found Dr. Jones attractive and funny at times, but he seemed distant. There was something about him she couldn’t grasp, but she felt the urge to figure out what it was.
As they were driving, they didn’t talk. While she was checking him out, she could feel him doing the same to her. They just kept looking at each other and smiling. She finally figured it out. He kept his distance because he knew it would make a woman want him more. It made her want him more.
“Are you dating anyone right now?” Eva asked.
“I’m dating a couple of girls casually while one is a little more serious. I like her but I think she is a little messed up in the head.”
“Aren’t we all,” Eva said with a smile.
Dr. Jones thought her reply sounded a little warped but he decided to play along.
Dr. Jones looked at her with a grin. “Yeah. I guess some people are screwed up if you open enough closet doors.”