Tko's Dik Dot Friend

X. Only My Friends call me Tko

I got up around 6 am that morning to get an early start, and Amanda and Peter were already way ahead of me, tending to Ava Grace. I checked the news to confirm that there were no announcements about his arrest before heading out. I let Amanda know I would call her once I got to Portland Police Bureau.

I was paranoid from the minute I got in my car and the whole time at the storage unit. I was looking behind me every second while packing up my stuff. I got what I could from the storage and asked the storage manager to do with the rest whatever he wanted.

"Are you sure? We will put it up for auction, and you can't get it back." He said with a roughness to his voice. His brown hair looked like it hadn't touched a brush in days, and his shirt seemed like it was a size too small for him.

"Yes. I'm sure. I took everything I need, and what's left are non-essentials. Besides, I have no room for them in my beetle." I said, still looking behind and around me.

"Are you okay?' You act like you're being followed." He said, imitating my movements.

"You never know. With that crazy serial killer on the loose."

"Oh yeah. Be careful young lady. Get out of town before sundown." He cautioned with concern in his tone.

"Thanks. I will." I said, handing him the key to the storage unit and racing back to my car.

I drove up to the police station around 1 pm. I sat in my car for a while. Hands trembling and heart beating rapidly had become a norm in the past twenty-four hours. I took a deep breath to get my body to relax. I watched as police officers and civilians alike walked in and out of the massive station. I took one last deep breath and pushed myself out of my beetle. My walk towards the stairs leading to the station was slow and intentional. Every step unleashed a flood of anxiety, pain and insecurities inflicted on me by his book. I knew I would have to face the fact that my identity may be revealed to whomever I spoke to, but I shook it off. I tried to convince myself that this was for a more significant cause, but my heart was still beating faster than I could walk. I finally made it to the front double glass door. It swung open as two cops exited the building. I quickly took the opportunity to get inside the building, which was equally massive on the inside—crawling with more cops than I'd ever seen in one day. I walked timidly towards the front desk. Behind the desk was a male in his fifties with a full beard in a police uniform.

"May I help you?" He said before I even got to the desk. His voice was a bit scratchy and deep like he smoked a pack a day. I looked up and nodded.

"Well?" He repeated, and I could tell he was already losing his patience. The phone rang, and he immediately picked it up.

"Portland police." I swallowed hard and waited for him to get off the phone.

"Hold on." He punched some buttons on the telephone and hung up right away.

"Yes." He said, turning back to me.

"I'd like to speak with a detective," I said timidly.

"What about?" He asked as he flipped through some documents in front of him.

"About the three-dot Serial killer." He looked up at me and stared into my brown eyes for a moment. "You have reliable sources. Tangible evidence?" He interrogated me without hesitation.

"Yes. I do." I said, nodding. He curled up his lips and made a call. I looked around while he made the call.

"There's a young lady out here to see you about the Three Dots murders. Okay." He hung up. "Someone will be right with you." He said and went back to his documents. I nodded and took tiny paces back and forth, my head spinning as I tried to imagine the conversation between the detective and me.