Through Thick & Thin

Chapter 4 - Part 1

Chapter 4 - Part 1: Tatyana

 

Simmons’ Car – 4:30 p.m.

“Hello Tatyana.” Mr. Simmons said, his jaw tight. I was curious as to what was bothering him, but I minded my business and whispered a polite Hi.

We drove in silence and soon enough, we pulled up to the same place I came just a week ago to give a statement on my brother. I hopped down from the truck and followed him inside. At the front desk, the lady who gave me a sweater glared at me and Mr. Simmons before turning her head the opposite way of us.

I knitted my eyebrows together, ‘cause last time I saw her, she was very nice.

“So, we got some footage we want you to take a look at.” I nodded and followed him into what I assumed was his office. He asked me to sit in the cushioned chair in front of the desk and I did. It smelled really good in here.

“Is that a Yankee Candle?” I asked, pointing to the candle on the burner. He smiled and shook his head no.

“Actually, my little sister made it for me. She just used the jar from one she had already. She makes all kinds of them.” I smiled at him and nodded. He seemed less tense after speaking about his sister. I was still curious as to what was bothering him, but it wasn’t my business. I was curious, not nosey.

“It smells really good. I tried making one in school, in my advanced art class, but that was a flop.” We both laughed and he sat behind the desk, handing me a picture frame.

“That’s Julie. You should meet her, she’ll help you with the candle thing. She’s around your age, nineteen.” She was very pretty. She was light skin, almost lighter than me. Her eyes were almond-shaped and she was in a burgundy cap and gown. Her face was slim and her cheekbones were high. She was an exotic-looking chick. Very pretty.

“Sure. I don’t really have any friends, so that’d be cool.” He gave me a sympathetic look and changed the subject. We chatted a little while longer and he showed me the video. It was short—about thirty or thirty five seconds long. I recognized them immediately and didn’t realize I was crying until Mr. Simmons handed me a Kleenex tissue.

“Thanks. Um, that’s definitely them. No doubt about it.” I said.

“Did you get a chance to see any skin? Eye color or anything? That’d be helpful.”

“Well, one had really dark eyes. I would almost bet money they were black.” When I said that, his eyes widened.

“Black, huh?” He asked, rubbing his goatee. “Shit, I knew it!” He said to himself, scanning his desk for something. He grabbed a stapled stack of papers and gently placed them in front of me. It was a picture of a man holding a black ID sign with white letters spelling out Jerome Jackson and some numbers.

“Do you think it could be him? They call him Night, and we placed him a little over five minutes from the scene the night of the murder.” I nodded, it was the eyes.

“Yes.” I whispered.

He made a phone call, saying something about a line up.

“Okay, you want to head back out? I know you don’t want to be here.” He said apologetically.

“Yes, please.” I whispered, standing, realizing I didn’t have my phone.

“Hey, can you call my phone? I can’t find it.” I said, patting my pockets and scanning the floor. He pulled out his cell phone. I froze, listening out for it. I heard vibration and then got up, looking around. I bent to the floor to see if it was under his desk, but I didn’t see anything.