The Murder Of 1998

Chapter Thirty-Three

Father Thomas—the man who Emily always went to for guidance—stared at a picture of the dead woman in his hands. He remembered when the young girl came to America with little knowledge of English. But she grew comfortable around him. Father Thomas looked up at the cross of Jesus's cruxifixction. He hoped the Lord was teaching her more guidance than he ever could.

"Father Thomas," a low voice said from the other side of the church. Father Thomas turned his head to look over at the person who called his name.

-x-

Raymond took the last sip of his tequila from his flask. His body was already used to the alcohol. He just needed some time to adjust to the way alcohol influenced him. It had, after all, been several years since he had stopped drinking. He took in a deep sigh and stepped out of his car.

His routine was the same as always; wake up and go to school to prepare for the new students coming his way. After today the next time he stepped foot into this school would be with a bunch of students roaming around.

He felt somewhat ready though.

"Are you really ready though?"

Raymond turned around quickly, his heart racing. What he thought was the voice of his dead wife, was actually a fellow co–worker talking on his flip phone. He was tall and handsome and almost reminded him of someone he'd never met before.

Avery Neumann, a guidance counselor. One of the most well liked guidance counselors in the school as a matter of fact.

He noticed Raymond and gave him a smile with a nod. Raymond drifted into his eyes for a moment. He returned the gesture with a nod. He felt like he had a connection with him. Of course, he knew him from last year as well, but they never really spoken much outside of having lunch a few times together or speaking to each other about a student.

Someone to speak to would be nice.

-x-

Jonathan squinted at his partner, tapping his pen against his desk. Jordan could feel his stare burning a hole into her.

"Whatever it is you want to say, just say it."

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Did you have sex with Walter?"

This unexpected question made Jordan take a second to place her pen down on her desk and look at her partner. "Excuse me?"

"If you don't wanna answer the question, just say so."

Jordan scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Why the hell would you ask me that?"

"Cause I saw you leaving the bar with Walter last night. Where did you guys go?"

Jordan squinted her eyes at her partner, frowning. "Were you following me?" She asked. Jonathan shook his head at her.

"No of course not. I just happened to be walking by. Just answer the question."

"None of your fucking business. Now leave me alone and get back to work."

Jonathan rolled his eyes and chuckled a bit. "Alright whatever. Found anything new on the case?"

Jordan shook her head and flipped through her papers with a look of disappointment. "Nothing." She looked down at her notes. The amount of victims was rising and less evidence was being found. The most that they found was that footprint which was connected to Emily Hunter's murder. However, this seemed very odd for him to do. He never left behind footprints so what happened? Did he just all of a sudden slip up? No, that couldn't be it.