Two Miles to Heaven

-Chapter 16- «Game Over, Patricia»

The lampposts emitted a dim light in the Queens streets, blurring the view for the passers-by that swaddled themselves under their very large mantles, on a bleak chilly night.

Hands frozen, skin dried, I was walking slowly towards Patricia's building with a couple of files hidden under my raincoat, preventing myself from getting them soaked with the rain dripping down my hair.

There's no way for her to escape anymore, not even to stick that botoxed smirk on her face to hide her cruel intentions.

I've gathered enough information that proved she definitely had something to do with Elizabeth's murder. Now, I have to think of a way to make her confess about it. I always opted for putting pressure on the suspects, probably because it was the easiest way to get what and where I want.

If they ever notice a tiny bit of vulnerability in you, they will use it against you.

That's how I learned to remove any trace of "emotions" whenever I interrogated someone.

-"Who is it?" Patricia screamed from afar, probably from her kitchen.

-"Detective Montgomery."

I heard a loud sigh coming from the inside. She's absolutely not happy about my sudden visit.

-"You may enter." She invited me in with an ironic tone. I stepped in the living room, removing my raincoat that she took to hang on the hatstand.

Everything about that woman screams murder; from the psychotic well-decorated flat to her maniacal fussy hair bun.

She was wearing a hot pink silk sleeveless blouse tucked in a grey high-waisted cocktail skirt with black high pointy pumps. Too many details to describe a classy diva who's secretly a prostitute and, maybe, a killer, deep inside.

-"Would you like a drink... Or... Something else?" she offered, seductively.

-"Sorry, I'm not into women that are double my age." I simply replied, pretending to smile politely at her while ruffling my wet hair.

-"That's very harsh, coming from a really handsome man." She scoffed, choking a little laugh in annoyance with her eyebrows arched.

I noticed her hand slowly lifting her skirt up just above her knees.

She's really going hard to make me feel... Comfortable.

-"I do like a glass of water, actually."

-"You don't want something... Stronger? Something that'll calm your nerves?" she still offered, caressing my tie with the tip of her fingers to adjust it.

-"Just a glass of water." I insisted, gently removing her hands.

-"Suit yourself, Detective." She shrugged, making her way to the kitchen and putting a glass on the counter after picking a crystal pitcher filled with water to pour it in.

-"I'm guessing you didn't show up for an out of courtesy visit." She assumed, smiling from time to time.

-"You guessed that right... I'm here for a friendly conversation. Would you mind joining me?"

-"I certainly wouldn't." she replied, putting the tray on the coffee table and sitting really close to me. "So... What do you want to talk about?"

-"How about the murder of Elizabeth Miller?" I smirked while analyzing her features; the most important thing is that she immediately stopped smiling, standing up and sitting on another couch, discreetly playing with her nails.

-"Still didn't find the killer?" she asked with a high-pitched voice.

As I recall, when someone uses a high-pitched voice, it means that either they're trying to hide something or they're trying to lie and failing at it.