The Mysterious Case of Eileen Vermont

July, 13th

                  

In the past two days, Joshua and I became quite well acquainted – which was rare, since I usually shut myself out from everybody in this town. We went around to explore for any person who petted wolves, hounds, dogs – anyone of that sort. Thinking metaphorically, we even went to mental asylums and homes of wild bipolar people.

We searched for places that give us mirages, and ended up visiting a couple of parks and peculiar sites in the Montana foothills. We searched up poetry websites and books, but even Kahlil Gibran and Robert Frost were of no assistant to us. It was pretty sick – searching around blindly, using this riddle of a poem to find out who had killed Eileen. Our two days of research anyway got us to nowhere.

Today on my way back from the State Library, I came across Mrs. Vermont. I hadn't seen her a lot of times before, but I could now recognize her instantly – the dirty blonde hair that fell in choppy steps over her shoulders, the heart-shaped face with the tiny lips, and most of all the distinctive electric green eyes.

She was dressed in black (which I guessed she would be wearing every day from now onwards), and greeted me with a humble smile. "Good evening Mrs. Vermont." I said.

"Alexandra, is it? I heard from Joshua's mother that he was investigating about . . . it, and that you are in it too."

"That would be correct."

"Excellent. Thank you Alexandra. You don't know, but it means a lot to me that even someone like you – whom I have recently come across – is doing this for me. For Eileen."

"No problems, Mrs. Vermont." I said, a little surprised.

"The detectives told me that you were the last person who talked to my daughter, and that . . . she might've left you some clues. Joshua was the last person she texted, so I feel that you two might have a wonderful probability of finding out what you seek. A much higher probability than the investigating team."

I smiled at the encouragement, and Eileen's mother continued "You know, it is wrong to talk about it this way, but I feel that this is a murder – not a . . . suicide, like the inspector proposed to me – very deliberately, I believe, to not stress me out."

"You believe it's a murder? Why so?" I raised an eyebrow.

Mrs. Vermont bit her lip, and began a little reluctantly. "I hope I can trust you with this secret, though there was a time the rumors were all over the place."

"I'm quite new to Wilhemshire, so I probably wouldn't know, but I hand you my trust."

"Thank you Alexandra. Actually . . . about three years ago, my elder son, due to him, the family had to go through a great scandal. I sort-of disowned him after that, and with a great lot of attitude, he too left this house and never showed his face again. I . . . I still don't know where he resides or if he is even alive or not. At around the same time, Joshua Clarke's sister went missing. The suicide note was found in her bedroom, and her body in Flathead Lake some days later. Both the great tragedies stirred up our peaceful town of Wilhemshire.

"Of course now the rumors are not quite so more, but once . . . they used to be pretty wild. Anyway, now Eileen has . . ., and I don't know what to think about it. what I know for sure is that it somehow has to be connected with all of this, whatever happened three years ago. And moreover, that Joshua might be in a great danger right now – which is why he should probably . . . not get involved in this case, you know, just to be on the safer side."

"You feel that your exiled son might be the culprit?" I asked carefully.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him for three years. And I have no proof he did this."

"Then, you perhaps feel that Mrs. Clarke's daughter was murdered too?"

"I never said that." she said instantly.

I took a deep breath, digesting the information, and nodded. "Thank you for telling me that. I'll . . . I'll do my best to keep Joshua away from danger, and I'll definitely use the information to deal with Eileen's case."

"I'm sure you will. Thank you again, Alexandra." And then she left.

I visualized the story in my mind as I walked back to my apartment. So Eileen had a brother too – the one who had been kicked out of the house due to something (that Mrs. Vermont didn't wish to share) had happened in the household. And Joshua had a sister too – who had committed suicide. Both, at around the same time.

Maybe Joshua had the same sixth sense theory that Mrs. Vermont did, which was why he refused to believe that Eileen's death had been a suicide. As I climbed up the stairs, I noticed that my new neighbor was outside his home. On his hand was a laptop bag, some papers and a packet that had Ashley's Locks written on it.

Ashley's Locks. It was one of the shops in Wilhemshire where you could purchase really unidentifiable wigs, or get hair extensions. I carefully studied the man's mane of curly hair. I out of all people knew how to tell if someone was wearing a wig or not. And well, on a close inspection, this guy was!

I wondered if he was a patient of alopecia too, but then he interrupted my thoughts by asking if he knew where I could find hounds around here in this town.

I replied that just because I was a vet, didn't mean that I kept wild dogs at my house or knew all the places where you could find them. It was a vague question anyway. After that, I went inside my apartment and realizing that I couldn't really come up to any conclusion all this while, I went back to my studying mode.

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