The Truth Hurts

64 │parental supervision

Waiting patiently outside of Sheriff Martinez' office, Deputy Bennett stands in the main hallway that cuts through the middle of the police station. Holding his hands together behind his back, he watches the distorted shadows from the other side of the frosted glass window as they approach the door.

The handle pops as Martinez twists it, pulling the door open as he holds it to allow for Kira's parents to leave his office. Mrs. Walker, with her long blonde hair pulled behind her neck, looks almost like a mirror image of her daughter. She wipes at her tired eyes, Mr. Walker not looking so well himself as he pulls her in close for reassurance. The two are significantly calmer than the last time he saw them and Martinez can't help but guess that it's due to aid from something behind-the-counter at the local pharmacy.

"Thanks again for coming in and for your patience." Martinez says as he follows them into the hallway. Heavy bags weigh in under his eyes as he's clearly suffering from a lack of sleep as well. Nowadays his nights mostly consist of consuming what seems like gallons of black coffee as he shuffles through a constantly growing stack of reports. "We will find who is responsible for this."

"Thank you." Mrs. Walker wheezes between heavy breaths before her husband takes her hand to lead her toward the exit.

Nodding, Martinez watches as the two walk through the lobby and exit through the front doors. For a moment, he finds himself staring at them, wondering how they are able to cope with what had happened just the other night. Losing a loved one is hard enough, but to have your daughter murdered in cold blood under your own roof? Being a father himself, he can't imagine anything worse in life. No parent should outlive their child and, if they do, no amount of drugs could numb out that pain. Although one can sure overdose trying.

Bennett follows his gaze to see that the couple had already disappeared out of sight. He figures the sheriff's mind must be elsewhere. "Sir?"

Snapping out of it, Martinez looks away from the entrance. He turns around to walk back in his office, Bennett following him inside like an obedient lapdog. Shaking his head, Martinez sits back down in his chair on the far side of the long table. Instead of sitting in one of the empty chairs facing him, Bennett decides to stand in front of the open door. He looks down at one of the many papers scattered on top of his desk, his eyes settling on a report concerning Kira. "She was just a kid."

"I know. It's a shame." Bennett replies, although he has only been out of high school for a few years now himself. Despite the gold plated badge clipped above his chest, Martinez still sees him as a child as well. "Do you have any leads?"

Staring forward, Martinez rubs at the thin layer of scuff on his chin. His silence is enough to answer the question. "I need you to do something for me."

"Sure." Bennett takes a step forward, although his posture remains stiff. "What do you need, sir?"

"I need you to monitor my house tonight. Just to keep an eye on Millie and make sure nothing happens to her." He takes a deep breath, the thought of his daughter even remotely being in danger is excessively nauseating. As if he doesn't already have enough to be worried about. "I haven't found any connection between the victims, except that most of them were students at Riverside High."

"Of course."

Martinez stands up from his chair. "Thank you. I know you're relatively new here but, to be honest, you're one of the few people in this building that I trust the most."

"Absolutely. Thank you, sir." Bennett tries to hide his smile, failing miserably. He's been trying so desperately over the past few months to get on his good side. He had no idea that, within their first real case working together, he would quickly become one of his favorites.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Martinez smiles as he reaches over the desk to lightly punch him in the shoulder. "One hell of a welcoming party, huh kid?"

No shit. When Bennett first transferred to this precinct to follow his father's footsteps, he was told that this town was nothing but uneventful and in a good way. He was expecting to get calls pertaining to kittens stuck at the top of trees and kids running away from home. Not homicide.

He nods at Martinez, his smile quickly fading at the thought of a madman still on the loose. Stepping back from the desk, he takes the silence as a sign of dismissal.

"Thanks again." Martinez says, confirming that their short conversation is indeed over. "I'll let you know if I need anything else."

"Yes sir." Bennett nods respectively before turning around to walk out the door, making sure to close it behind him.

Martinez watches as the deputy's shadow disappears from the other side of the window and reaches down to take his cell phone from the table. After pressing a few buttons to unlock the device, he opens up an application that shows an intricate map of Riverside. It zooms in, focusing on his street and a red dot flashes over what is presumably his house.

The night Cesar Juarez and Randy Carter were found mutilated, when Martinez was attempting to calm the Juarez family he came to the harsh realization that right now everybody is a target. As he mentioned to Bennett, so far the murders do not appear to be connected other than the fact that the majority of them are high school students. Students like his daughter.

Stubborn at heart, he knows that no matter how many times he preaches to Millie—odds are she is not going to listen. Ever since she was a child, she never was one for being supervised. She always hated being told what to do. Not in a rebellious way however, but more so independent as she prefers to make her own decisions in life. It's a character trait she must have inherited from her mother. Although it's something that deep down he admires, at the same time it drives him insane.

The next day when he had arrived home from work, he seized an opportunity to take Millie's phone when she wasn't looking and installed a GPS tracking app. Something he feels that he should have done a long time ago. Aware that it may be paranoid and definitely intrusive, he's at a point where he believes that chances are just not worth taking. Especially after seeing in person what had happened to these families over the past few weeks. It's beyond tragic.

The red dot slightly moves, indicating that perhaps Millie must be somewhere in the front yard. He figures she is probably checking the mail as it appears to stop near the edge of the street before slowly heading back to the house.

Martinez eases back down into his chair as he flips the phone to a horizontal angle between both hands. Staring intensely at the small screen, he realizes how truly lucky his is—despite her being a major pain in the ass at times—to have Millie in his life. He can never say that his wife left him empty-handed.

♫ ᴡᴀʏ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴇ ɢᴏ / ᴋᴀʟᴇᴏ ♫