To Torture a Duckling- Continuation

Chapter 3

"Miss Drysdale, we're ready for you." Lieutenant Elliot called out.

Startled, she stood abruptly and followed the Lieutenant's quick footsteps down the hall. Her long hair was tousled by her restless night's sleep. Dark bags laid under her eyes, making her look sickly. She was obviously quite nervous, given the rapid bouncing of her knee and shaking of her hands. She wore a plain sweater and pair of jeans. Her golden necklace sat on her chest, sparkling in the sunlight.

"Miss Drysdale-" Elliot began.

"You can call me Finn." She quietly interrupted.

"-Finn, you were the one to find Harlan, correct?"

She simply nodded. Tears began to build up at the mention of her deceased grandfather.

"Could you elaborate on what you witnessed?" Elliot prodded.

"I, uh, found Harlan in his upstairs study. I was going to wake him up for the day and bring him down for breakfast. His bed was empty and hadn't been slept in. So, I went looking for him in his study. He was on the couch and his throat... he was covered in blood. I screamed and ran to go get someone."

A ding from the piano caused her to look past the two policemen. A figure was sat, cloaked in a shadow. She recognized him, of course. Detective Benoit Blanc.

"Detective Blanc, if I remember correctly," Finn said.

"Indeed, Miss Drysdale. I just have a few questions I was hoping you could answer for me." Benoit's southern drawl rolled out.

"Okay..."

"Harlan's death... a bit suspicious, no?"

"It was a suicide, Detective."

"Hmpf... What can you tell me about Ransom Drysdale, your half brother?"

"What do you want to know about him?"

"If it wasn't a suicide if it was murder... could Ransom have done it?"

"... I don't know. Any of us could have done it."

The response left Benoit reeling. The entire family outright denied that anyone would be capable of killing their dear grandfather. Finn's response was telling. She wanted him to know that murder was a possibility. It made him think that she might know what had really gone down that night.

"I know that this is difficult, Finn. We-" Detective Elliot began.

He didn't know Finn thought. How could he? Did he understand what it's like to be so terribly alone? Did he know it felt? Does he know how it feels to see the only person he loves, dead, covered in their own blood? No. He doesn't know.

"- anything else you can tell us?" Elliot finished.

"No." Finn said and abruptly got up and left.

She was overcome with emotions. Tears ran down her cheeks. There was no safe space in this house anymore. No place to hide. No comfort to be given. Finn retreated to the back porch. The dogs were the last bit of her grandfather left. He did quite love those dogs. She remembered when he had first gotten them. He had even let her pick one out. 

She sat on the ground, hidden by the tall porch, and cried. The dogs tried to lap at her tears, causing her to let out a chuckle. Finn loved animals. Maybe it's just because she hated people, but she knew that these dogs would never hurt her on purpose. Dogs don't lie to you. They don't alienate you. They don't cast you out. They're good and pure. She sat for a long while, just letting the tears flow.

"Miss Drys- Finn?" a southern drawl called out.

Finn snuck a look over her shoulder. Benoit Blanc was standing there. 

"May I join you?" he asked.

Finn just hesitantly nodded. Ransom's threat was still fresh in her mind and she certainly believed he would go through with it.

"You said somethin' that's got me thinking'." Benoit said.

"I asked you who coulda' done it and you said anyone one of ya' coulda' done it." Benoit continued.

Finn looked over to Benoit who was looking intently at her. It was then that she noticed a dark figure in the window, watching her. She knew who it was, and it sent chills down her spine.

"I didn't mean anything by it." Finn said quietly.

They both sat for a moment. Benoit knew that she knew more than she said. Why would she purposefully keep information from him? He thought there might be someone threatening her. His first thought was of Ransom. Instead of pressing the matter further, he simply handed Finn his card and told her to call if she thought of anything else.

It wasn't soon after that Finn heard the sound of cars leaving the Thrombey home. The sun began to set and the weather soon turned cold. She decided, as much as she didn't want to, to go inside the house and face whatever waited for her. The sound of arguing could be heard, she paid no mind to that. She made her way towards the steps, in an attempt to avoid her "family". She was stopped by a tight grip on her arm that yanked her backwards. She fell down. Above her stood Ransom, a sick smile on his lips. He quickly yanked her back up and began pulling her down the hallway. He pushed her into Harlan's office and shut the doors.

"I saw you with the detective. What did you tell him?" Ransom demanded.

"Ransom- I swear- I didn't tell him anything!" Finn exclaimed.

Ransom cornered her in between the wall and the book shelf. He grabbed the collar of her shirt and got close to her face.

"I. don't. believe. you." Ransom said through clenched teeth.

All Finn could do was plead with him. She knew she couldn't escape from him, he always found her. She tried to tell him that the detectives knew nothing. She wouldn't dare tell them anything. Nothing changed his mind. She knew then that he was going to hurt her. Panic swelled in her chest at the inevitability. Tears began to run down her cheeks once again, not from the pain of loss, but from fear of Ransom and what he might do. 

A harsh hand slapped her cheek, causing her to fall to the ground. Before she could get up on her knees, a kick landed on her side. She was sure she felt something crack. Ransom hauled her back on her feet by her neck. He then punched her in the face, causing her to nearly loose consciousness. Satisfied with his work, Ransom left her there, bleeding and in pain.