24. "lovers of pleasures"

The person who reserved this room killed me.

And she hid me away with the lost pocket change

Far, far beneath the cracks to be forgotten.

I know her plan. I know exactly how she'll kill me.

And she thinks she'll get away with it.

Don't let her.

Please.

The five of us sat across the desk of Officer Dela Cruz, the way we did when all of this first got started. It was early in the morning, sleep was still poking at our eyes, and they felt heavy against the bright light illuminating from above us. Nothing's changed. Since we got here, we would already rather be anywhere else but here.

The officer pushed out a piece of scrap paper wrapped in a plastic bag that proved they considered it evidence, and on it was definitely Ryan's handwriting without a doubt. Each of us recognized it easily. It was the most pleasing on the eyes than any of us, and there was no chance that we could've made it look that good if we worked on it for eight hours straight. That was a skill of his that none of us possessed.

His handwriting was an art -- a calligraphy, every time he touched a pen even when he wrote something so terrifying.

"This was a note that we found tucked in between the floorboards back at the crime scene. We analyzed it, and we would think you would each agree it's reasonable to say this is Mister Javers' handwriting," Dela Cruz stated. "According to this, it seems that we can say that he was aware that someone among you guys was after him. If the attack was not expected, there's no way this could've been written, you follow?"

"You brought us here this early in the morning for a note?" Jayvee complained. Oddly, she looked at me out of the corner of her eye. I hoped silently it was only coincidence as she went on. "It's not like you can accuse someone of murder or kidnapping from a couple of words."

"Maybe you're right. We couldn't exactly convict a person from a couple of words, as you say, Miss Payawal, but we can see where it directs us to, and these couple of words specifically brought us to the front desk of Bohol University. Do you know what we found there?"

The officer lulled his speech for a few, but not long enough that he actually expected any of us to answer. "I'll tell you what we found there. You guys were due for a seminar this year after the fifth year passed, but it wasn't until a couple months from now. In fact, the school's secretary still has the invitations. They are yet to be sent out. That means that the invitations you each received in the mail for the date of your seminar was fake -- and forged by someone in this group."

Each of us were shocked, but it's Jared who had the energy to voice it. "So you're saying that technically, we're not even supposed to be here right now? You're saying that we were supposed to be here for a seminar in like December or next year even?"

"That's correct Mister Kinoshita, and looking into it a little more, I found out that students that attend the school are allowed to reserve a room if they're holding any sort of event. You may say that as of this date, none of you attend that school, especially when majority of you are from abroad, but what if I said that the room was reserved one year ago by a Miss Jayvee Payawal, when she was still attending the school?"

Jayvee laughed as if it were the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard."So what if I reserved it? The room is usually under my name anyway. If you would've checked the name for this event you're saying is coming up in two months, my name would probably be on it too. They just do it that way because since I'm in the group and I attend the school, it's a lot easier on the company sponsoring it."

"I expected you'd say that Miss Payawal, and you're right. Your name is on the list for the room two months from now, but how would you explain the letters? We know the murder could not have happened from outside of the five of you. We checked further for damage from the outside and we haven't found any anywhere, but on the letters, there was a translation on the bottom in Tagalog -- which is not only your mother tongue, but is not spoken by anyone else among the five of you."

"Google Translate exists."

"Hm, true, but I'm not sure if it can be that proficient," Dela Cruz muttered while he pulled out a few photographs from the crime scene, and on top was the one with the blood splatter. One look at it alone made me want to puke out my gut all over again.

The officer looked at it with ease.

I shouldn't be surprised. Blood and gore is his life's work.

Fooling people into confessions was too.

"I must say Miss Payawal, you're doing a wonderful job at defending yourself. Almost as good as the murder you were so meticulous about planning out. I mean, reserving a room one year in advance to take a life? That's an extreme level of patience right there. The letters, the formality of it, the hidden body, the hidden murder weapon, the vaccine, the lights going out, the small amount of blood left behind -- tell me, how did you pull that off? How did you come up with it?"

Jayvee didn't break a sweat. She was calm and polite, but one thing was off -- if I didn't see it wrong, there was a small smirk on her lips that enjoyed the attention.

"I'm sorry sir. I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, like normal.

"What a pity. You don't want to go down in history, do you? You don't want to go down into the books? Apparently not. Okay, I'll accept your denial for the time being." Dramatically, he flipped through a collection of paper stapled at the corner. "That brings us to suspect number two then. Colby Lexoni."

I sat up straight at the sound of my name. I didn't have to act surprised because I genuinely was. My name out of the mouth of an officer will always be surprising to me, and the attention from the other four wasn't making it any easier.

"Yes?" I responded, sounding more like a question than a statement.

"The deceased stayed at your place one year ago, you once said. What happened that day?"

"Nothing happened."

"So he just came to your place and you did nothing?"

I scratched the back of my head. Quite clearly, he didn't have very much information on me for me to be posing as a suspect, and this was the most he could bring up. Even so, I couldn't expect ahead of time what he would ask and how I would answer.

"Well no-- we just talked a bit. Got better acquainted."

The pen to the officer's paper gave me chills. Simply thinking that what I'd say would be recorded even if it was all for show freaked me out. I'd never been one to love that kind of thing.

"Which consisted of?"

I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, sir?"

"How did you get better acquainted?"

"I said, we talked."

"About what?"

"About many things."

"Like?"

I shut my mouth. Even if this wasn't legit and I was here to help out the police, they were asking information that I didn't want to talk about. Eventually I planned on saying it anyway, yes, because I knew it's what would wipe the smirk off Jayvee's face, but I wasn't ready yet. I needed more build up.

How was everyone going to react when I said it out loud? Even if they were informed right after that my truth was a lie, would they believe it? Or when I burst, would it look to real to be able to conceal it?

I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I'm not ready.

"It's not important, sir. It's the usual things you'd talk about to someone when you first meet them. We didn't talk much before so it was almost like a first meeting." I claimed, trying to buy myself more time.

"Then why can't you elaborate? Why are you so secretive?"

"It was just about our past experiences and our future goals. We talked about the places we've been to and the differences between our lives in America versus in Europe. Things like that."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" The officer teased. The others eyes were open so wide that I had taken the heat of this attention it didn't seem they could actually comprehend it. They were looking right at me, but nothing about this was actually being retained like it was a food with such a strong taste it had to be spit.

Dela Cruz hit the table harshly for my attention to return back to him, noticing it'd been led astray. "Did you ever have a disagreement with Mister Javers that would have given you a motive?"

"No, sir. We had disagreements but--,"

I was cut off. "Oh. So you did have disagreements?"

"No, no. Not like that," I defended myself. "We only argued about things like the best actors or best characters in movies of all time or about whether or not a book was good. We didn't have arguments that would run so deep we'd start to hate each other."

"Mhm. I see," he acted like he didn't believe me. "So can you look me in the eyes and tell me you don't deserve to be charged with murder?"

"Yes, sir. Of course I can--,"

"Then say the words. Say that you didn't kill him and look directly into my eyes."

I led my eyes to his by following his two fingers, that begged me to look at him. "I didn't kill Ryan David Javers. It wasn't me."

"Don't look down."

"I didn't--,"

"Say it again. Look at me."

"I didn't kill Ryan David Javers. He's my friend. I care about him. I wouldn't kill him. I couldn't. I'd never do something so detestable."

"And why should I trust you? Why should I trust that you wouldn't do such a thing? You're smart. You're very capable of following such a plan no matter how long it took. You could figure it out if you really needed to or you could get the help with shallow reasoning so you could hide behind their names. It was an impressive crime. So why? Why should I trust you?"

My blood started rushing faster through my veins, and I could feel this surge of anger and annoyance when the man didn't believe me from the beginning, I nearly forgot it wasn't real -- that this was for show.

"Because I--," I paused, trying to control my emotions and to remind myself of my mission here.

"Because what? What makes you so trustworthy?"

I slammed my hands against the table so hard every bit of my skin turned red and it stung like the zap of electricity made its way up my spine, but I didn't react. I didn't react no matter how much it hurt because I was too busy looking him in the eye, determined not to look away.

I was determined to see what it would feel like to say the truth out loud.

"Because I was in love with him, and I always will be. I love him, and I always will."

I yelled it as if I were making up for every single time I held it in and every single time I wasn't able to say it because I didn't have the courage. It broke me down until I was made up of tears and only tears -- because like my own shadow, it stuck with me that the first time I said it out loud, he didn't hear me.

Everyone turned to look at me. Not only the other four, but everyone in the entire facility. Computer keyboards stopped clacking. Chatter lowered into nothing and the only noise that could be heard was a bundle of unsynchronized gasps.

Jayvee's face fell it looked like it would melt right off of her face. It didn't seem her neck could support it upright anymore.

And it wasn't for bad reason. It wasn't because she didn't support me. It was because she did.

I could tell by how she'd open her mouth and shut it again. I knew exactly what she was thinking, and exactly what she wanted to say.