The Secret She Kept

The phone rings, unsure if I should answer. I walk over to the end table in my living room where my phone sits, another unknown caller. Strange calls have been happening for the past 9 months. The times I answered, a deep muffled voice would whisper threats of coming for me. At times it was a recording of that night. But who, why? So many possibilities. My mind races then my phone finally stops ringing. As I turn to go into the kitchen, a ding, a voicemail. I stare at my phone as if it could hurt me. Hesitantly I grab it and listen to the message, it’s him, just as I feared. “What do you want from me?” I shout into my phone like he could hear me. I save the message as I have with every single creepy one, he has left. I can’t take this anymore! I have changed my number many times. It stops for about a week; then he somehow gets my new number, and it starts all over again. Who the hell is he? I sit at my kitchen table sipping on a cup of coffee. It’s 3 a.m. and still, I can’t sleep, all I do is think. Nowadays that’s all my mind can do. As my brain tries to recollect the events that had taken place that night 6 years ago, I accidentally spill coffee all over myself. “Shit! I have nothing clean to change into.” I exhaustedly utter. I start removing my wet pajamas that I have been wearing for 3 days straight. It was time for a shower and change anyway. I get out of the shower, grab my dirty clothes, and head for the laundry room, I realize I hadn’t bought any detergent. These days I order all my necessities online. I haven’t left my house in almost 6 years. I am what my psychiatrist calls a recluse, a shut-in. I have tried in the past to step out of my house, but everything immediately got blurry and dark, and I almost passed out. Finally, I gave up trying and accepted the fact that this was going to be my life and there wasn’t a thing I or anyone who tried could do. As I sit in front of my computer placing an order for everything I needed, I begin to think of the years before this, the time I was a very sought-after private investigator. My best friend and partner, Elvira and I, had known each other for over 30 years when we started our business together as private investigators 14 years ago. We each loved going on stakeouts together and catching all those cheating assholes. Our clients were wealthy high-class citizens from all over. They paid all expenses including travel, meals, gas, hotels, and everything for going undercover. It was not only work but once we had all proof needed for our clients, we had time for some fun at the clients’ expense. It’s what some would call, living the dream. And we were. Until that night.

Elvira and I sit in our car watching and waiting; we were assigned to follow a 57-year-old male, husband of 8 years, and father of 5 kids. The client and wife, a 26-year-old extremely fit mom of 1 and stepmother of 4, all belonged to her husband. She suspected her husband of having an affair and it was our job to catch him in the act. Night one of our stakeout and we had already followed him to the house of his mistress. The wife gave very little information on her husband; Elvira and I see why. He’s the former Mayor John Moody. I suppose she didn’t want word getting out about their problems until she had actual proof of an affair. Elvira snaps away with the camera, “we got him.” She says with victory in her voice. I turn and smile, “hell yeah we did!” I say excitedly as I continue to take notes. Happy with our results we decided it was time to celebrate. We head to a nearby hangout to have a few drinks before we end our night. Sitting at the bar, chills ran down my spine, the feeling of someone watching hit me hard. I sip my drink and look around. Elvira looks at me with curiosity. “What’s wrong? Looks like you saw a ghost.” She knows me all too well. “I don’t know, I have this strange feeling like someone is watching us.” She joins me scoping the place out, but we don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just a bunch of drunken idiots. Still that feeling bothered me. We finished our drinks and left. She drove me home, the entire way I had that same feeling. She kept saying it was nothing, so I shrugged it off. “Thanks for the ride bestie.” I smile as I tell her to drive safely. “Not a problem girlfriend, I’ll go home and get these pics developed and have them ready for tomorrow’s big payday.” She waves then drove away. I turn and head up the stairs to my front door. That feeling hit me once again, I look back and see an all-black Range Rover pull away from across the street. Could be a coincidence or could be something. I immediately try to write down the plate number but oddly enough there weren’t any plates. I forgot my phone inside so I ran in to call Elvira and let her know she might be getting followed. Luckily, she answered on the first ring like she always does. “I think you’re being followed.” I promptly say. She tells me to hold on, a minute later I hear her say that she didn’t see anything. So maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. We hang up when she says she pulled into her driveway. Fortunately, she lives less than 10 minutes away and she drives really fast most of the time. I could finally relax knowing my friend was home safe. The next day I reach our office; Elvira isn’t in yet, she’s usually here before me. Maybe she had a late-night developing the pictures. I decide to give her a call, no answer; that’s not like her. I keep trying, no response. The office phone rings, I quickly pick up, “there you are, why haven’t you answered your phone?” “Ma’am, this is Detective Ryan Ortiz, am I speaking with Miss Laura James?” I hesitate to reply, “yes, how can I help you, detective?” “I need you to come down to the precinct I will give you more information once you arrive.” I am a bit confused but agree. I leave a note for Elvira, so she knows where I am. Once I arrive the detective is called out and greets me as we walk to his office. “Please take a seat.” He says in a stern but concerned manner. I comply then ask what this is all about. He sits at his desk as he takes out a photo and places it in front of me. I gasp and immediately feel lightheaded and nauseous. It was a photo of Elvira, but she was dead and covered in blood. “Is this some kind of joke?” I shout as tears roll down my cheeks. I toss the picture back at him and swiftly stand. I pace back and forth as I try calling her cell and the office. The detective grabs my shoulder and tries to calm me down and asks me to sit. I find myself bawling uncontrollably. He hands me a box of tissues. I manage to talk and ask, “what happened to her? She was fine last night when I spoke to her. Did you arrest the fucking bastard that did this to her?” The detective raises a hand, “I’m sorry Miss James, but we haven’t made any arrests yet. We are still investigating and questioning neighbors and friends to get more information.” I look up from wiping my face, ask what he needed to know from me. I answer every question and ask my own then leave with his card. So far all they know is how she was murdered but not who did it or why. He told me Elvira was strangled and stabbed 17 times. It was very brutal which means it had to be personal. I needed to do what I am best at, investigate.

Six years, still no arrest made for the murder of my friend Elvira. I tried to help as much as I could for so many years, even if that help became limited due to my mental breakdown. Now I find myself locked in my own mind and home like a prisoner. A knock on my door, probably the order I placed last night. I open the door and find a single box with no return address wrapped in plain brown wrapping paper. Not sure what it was since I wasn’t expecting anything other than the groceries I ordered. I take the box inside and sit on my sofa. I was about to open it when I notice red smudges on the top and side. And the words, “I know it was you” written across in black marker. I quickly get up and run to the front window and glance outside. Who left this? And why now after so many years? What do they want? So many questions with no answers. Nothing outside caught my eye. I turn and stare at the brown box that just sat there. Unsure of what is inside, I slowly walk over to open it. I cautiously get it open; my jaw instantly drops; how could this be? I look around the room as if someone was hiding inside, watching me. Just then a loud bang at the front door, I jump back startled. Another bang, someone is outside my door wanting to come in, and just as suddenly I hear, “Miss James, open the door! This is Detective Ortiz I know you’re in there.” I immediately grab the box and run with it to the kitchen. I put the box under the sink behind the floor cleaners and run back toward the front door. “Just a minute.” I shout. The banging continues. I finally reach the door and open it as officers and the detective rush in. “Miss James, I have a warrant for your arrest and a warrant to search the property.” He says as he forcefully grabs my arms and places cuffs on me. “What is this? I can’t go outside! Why are you doing this?” I yell at the top of my lungs. Detective Ortiz walks me over to a chair and sits me down, “you are under arrest for the murder of Miss Elvira Ramos.” As he reads me my rights, I begin to feel lightheaded and pass out. I awaken in a hospital room handcuffed to a bed. “There you are, I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. Do you know why I arrested you? Can you answer a few questions?” Ortiz observes as I look around the room. I tilt my head to one side then look up and into his eyes, “yes and yes.” I smugly respond. The look on his face was more than I could ask for. I knew I would eventually get caught. Turns out I wasn’t the only one doing the watching back in the day. Elvira knew too much; it was only a matter of time that she would let my secret out. I had no choice I had to make sure that never happened. What I didn’t know was her brother had found my secret out and he was the one calling me and had sent me the box with it inside. How he got a hold of it, only he knows but I guess it had to come to an end at some point.