The Murder Of 1998

Chapter Fourteen

(A/N) Its Friday and I literally only had three days of school this week because of the snow storm. I feel good n shit. Just took a 2-3 hour nap so I'm semi energized. Hopefully I'll upload another chapter today but i make no promises. Anyways, enjoy reading and make sure to vote and comment :)

Seth had just gotten a call that morning from Walter, asking if he could catch a ride to the funeral. Hoping to avoid any further conversation with his wife about the awkward night they both had, he immediately agreed and proceeded with getting ready.

He waited in the car, shifting through the radio on his car before settling to just wait in silence. The sky looked gloomy, like it knew what today was all about. Seth had his umbrella in the back seat of his car just in case it began to rain.

The blue eyed man walked out of the building and into the parking lot, getting into Seth's shiny red car.

"Thanks man," Walter said as he buckled up his seat belt. He drummed his fingers against the handle of the car door, waiting for Seth to start driving. It took Walter six seconds to realize that his partner wasn't moving the car at all. He turned his head in the direction of Seth, furrowing his eyebrows. "Seth, everything ok?"

Seth gripped on tightly to the steering wheel. His mind wasn't paying attention to Walter calling out his name four times. The fifth time he finally snapped out of whatever he was thinking of, falling back into reality.

"Sorry," Seth whispered as he pushed his fingers through his brown hair.

"Something happen?"

Seth scratched the back of his neck. He wasn't sure whether it was wise to bring up his sex life or not. But Walter was his best friend. He told him everything.

"I had a... weird night." He muttered.

"How weird?"

"I was having sex last night and I... lost it."

Walter tilted his head to the side. "Lost wha— oh." He cleared his throat as he brushed his hair down on the back of his head. "I mean it happens. That doesn't mean its weird."

Seth scoffed. What he wanted to say would have been weird and might have even made Walter force Seth not to go to the funeral. He thought that keeping his mouth shut and just to drive off would have been better than explaining what had happened.

He pushed himself against his wife's hips, hearing her fill the bedroom with her moans. Her naked body was pressed against his as he kept repeating his movements that she enjoyed.

No fingerprints, no murder weapon, no hair's, no nothing. Only two different sized footprints and a motive of anger and jealousy.

"Oh fuck, Seth!" She screamed out. Despite her loud moaning—which he was sure Sarah and Ervin could hear—he still thought about the crime scene from that day. It was almost impossible to not think about it. He wanted nothing more than to solve this case so that he could sleep somewhat ok at night.

Seth's brown eyes wondered down to look at his wife. But instead of expecting to see Evelyn Lance, he saw Emily LaBelle Hunter. Her brown eyes stared up at him in a haunting way. Seth stopped his movements, he blinked really hard and opened his eyes again. This time he saw Evelyn Lance staring up at him with her big green eyes, panting and wondering why he stopped. 

"Honey?" 

Seth clenched his teeth and grabbed on tightly to the headboard of the bed. He let out a groan, not from pleasure but from discomfort.