|<>|
"You and I are used to dealing with mysteries that live on the page."
"There are no bad guys. There are just complicated people who did bad things."
"I've got enough crime fact in my life. I don't need to read about it."
|<>|
When c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
|<>|
Alex was leaned up against my car with Mason - the facilities manager - by her side. I was a few feet away, enough to get business done until Gil got here, but still close enough to make sure that she was as close as she could get to okay.
The reality of Professor Collis' death was beginning to sink in on her as she tried to make sense of the suicide. "I just saw him last week," she sniffled. "He seemed to be fine. He even told me that he was coming to the midterm mystery." She was holding one hand across her torso and had the other propped up, her hand upon her forehead. Mason squinted at the ground. I presumed that he was close to the Professor as well, and the scene was probably hard for him too.
Alex dropped her hands to her sides in a dejected exasperation only to bring them back up in front of her. She fiddled with a small magnifying glass on a necklace string draped around her neck. Her pearl colored nails tapped against the glass as she thought.
"I don't know, but then, he was also talking to Rachel about her becoming Chair of the department, so I don't know. Mason, maybe he was trying to tell us something!" Alex was trying to cope with his death by finding a logical and reasonable explanation for it, and it was heartbreaking to watch her fold.
Mason rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing harshly. "He was married to her for over half a century," he pointed out. "Maybe he just.." he trailed off for a minute, "wanted to be with her."
Alex turned to him, her face the epitome of heartbreak. She hugged him, and Mason hugged her back for a second, ruffling her hit a little bit when he let go. With a small wave, he got in his car and drove off.
Signing off on a report, I handed the clipboard to a nearby officer and patted him on the back. He walked toward the coroner's van and opened the back door as the covered body was brought out of the house on a stretcher. Feeling that it would be best to distract her from watching that scene, I approached Alex.
She rapidly turned her head up to me, eyes searching my face for an explanation. My expression didn't give any emotion away before I spoke, which was important to the fact that she didn't make assumptions. Assumptions that I doubt she would make anyways - considering her intelligence - but still.
I talked her through the process. "The medical examiner is going to perform an autopsy, which is standard in these kinds of deaths. So if there's any next of kin that need to know about the funeral..." I trailed off as Alex shook her head.
"He didn't have any children." She chuckled sadly. "He used to say he had hundreds of kids every four years," she choked out, her voice cracking as tears began to spill. She started crying softly, furiously wiping her tears away as if she were ashamed of them. She stared at the ground. "I'm sorry," she whispered shakily.
I placed my hands on her arms, gently prodding her to look back up at me. As we made eye contact, the tears suddenly stopped.
