After Dark💀

Main Suspect, or Not

Xavier and Mark figure that perhaps David was right after accessing Dalia’s phone records. She and her mystery man have been exchanging dozens of messages for months, up until the day of her murder. The last message from the guy, Louis as she has him saved on her phone was him saying he is on his way, roughly three hours before she was killed.
“He was not at the crime scene.” Mark observes, after closely scrutinizing Louis’s profile picture. “If he did kill his lover, he must be really freaked out as to forget to take this out. “He adds.
“Perhaps we missed him. It was like a political rally out there.” Xavier argues, and even he cannot believe he just said that. “I know.”
“Go with me…” Mark starts, making that face he makes every time he has an odd idea, like he is constipated. He continues, “Say he killed her, even say, he is as much updated about our serial killer as the rest of Creekville, and saw that as an opportunity to copy his MO. What was the motive?”
“Pearson did say she was a cheating you-know-what.”
“That would be rather extreme don’t you think? Cheating on a man you are just starting a relationship with.”
“So what are you saying? You think this was our killer? That she dated him?” Xavier asks, looking a little unsettled because the thought that this man could be charming his way into the hearts of women is rather unsettling. It means he is capable of doing so, and that makes him that much more dangerous. Just as he processes the thought, Mark raises a piece of paper with an address carelessly scribbled on, and shouts “Got it!”
“Let’s go,” Xavier adds, grabbing his coat. Outside, the weather is rather gloomy, which has become the new norm.
“I hate this weather. I hate jackets and coats.”
“Makes me want to cuddle,” Xavier disagrees, looking around in utter admiration and satisfaction.

Third Person POV

If there is one thing David believes in, is his luck. He has been lucky for as long as he can remember. Sometimes he even attributes his getting away with murder to luck. He cannot not have made mistakes. His luck struck yet again while he was grappling with his latest dilemma, how to find Dalia’s lover after it dawned on him the seed he had planted with the cops would root sooner than later. And it has, as at this moment, he has the two musketeers in his sights. Given how energetic they look, they must have found him, and now so has he. He smiles at the thought as he starts his rental, and puts on his safety belt.
About twenty minutes later, the cop car pulls up in front of a single-standing town house. David pulls up three blocks back, puts on a basketball cap, and heads straight for the house. He can’t help but marvel at how lucky he is, again, because given the size and design of this house, he might just get in and out undetected in moments. He walks around the back as the cops ring the doorbell, hoping that the would-be culprit is home. The sound of door hinges squeaking and voices increasing affirm this, just as the kitchen door gives way for the uninvited guest. He lives a good life, David thinks as he tiptoes inside, hoping against all odds that David is not married or with children.
Meanwhile…
The detectives note that unlike would be with most people; Louis is not surprised to see to cops at his doorstep. They exchange looks, before Mark calls, “Mr. Louis?”
“Yes. Although nobody calls me by that name, it’s Loudon.” Mark and Xavier exchange curious looks again, making Loudon very uncomfortable, which he shows as he shifts on his feet.
“We are investigating a murder; we would like to ask you a few questions.”
“Dalia,” he says, he looks perplexed, and pale, so much so that Mark starts to wonder whether they have the right person.
“We found your contacts on her phone. You two have been dating?”
“Yes, a few months now. Only she called me Louis, said Loudon sounds like London.” Xavier nods slowly in understanding, and gestures to Loudon to let them in if he may.
“So, according to your last conversation, you set out to meet Dalia a few hours before she was killed.” Xavier states while observing for any non-verbal cues.
“That’s right.”
“But somehow you were not at the crime scene.”
“What are you asking, Detective?” he asks, clearly agitated.
“What happened when you met Dalia?” Xavier asks.
“Well I didn’t meet her.”
“Sorry?”
“I didn’t meet her that night seeing as she was already dead when I got there. I freaked out, initiated the 911 call and left.” He responds. The whole time, he remains calm, too calm.
“Initiated?”
“I was afraid the cops would suspect me of doing it if I called using my number, so I asked someone else to do it.”
“Who?’
“Some neighbors. They heard me calling for help and came out.’
“And then you just left?” Mark asks, since Xavier looks too annoyed with the man to speak.
“Yes, Detective.”