The Confession Of Zakary Jameson

Chapter 4

Agent Alexander Donovan

I had been working on the murder case of fourteen year old Anthony Turner for months now, but the pieces were just not coming together.

Anthony had been killed outside a hospital in downtown Chicago after visiting his sick grandfather. The cause of death had been a gunshot to the back. So far, there had been no witnesses, suspects, or even a murder weapon. This case was beginning to look more and more like a lost cause.

"So, you are sure there was nobody who could have been after him for anything?" I asked Chelsea, Anthony's former girlfriend. I thought fourteen was too young to date, but apparently they didn't.

Chelsea shook her head quickly, making her short blonde hair bob back and forth.

"I've told you over and over- everyone loved him! There was nobody who would do this!" She cried.

"Does he have any family that I have not been informed of or spoke to?" I asked, jotting down a quick note on the notepad I held. Chelsea shrugged her shoulders.

"Um, he has two uncles that I don't think you have talked to. Anthony's father, Ben's younger brothers. They are twins." She asked. I told her I hadn't.

"I guess I will be looking into them next. Do you have names?" This new information gave me a sliver of hope in solving this highly complicated case.

"Um, Mason Turner and Zakary Jameson." She replied. I was confused.

"If they are twins, how do they have different last names?" I asked.

"Well, apparently their parents got divorced. His Uncle Zak had been so angry at his father and kept his mom'a maiden name... Something like that."

I nodded, taking a note of that detail.

"Do you know where I could find either of the brothers?" I asked, putting away my notepad. I was ready to be done with this case.

As Chelsea shrugged, there was the sound of shattering glass behind me. I spun, now facing the hospital that Anthony had gotten shot in front of, and looked up. One of the windows on the higher levels had shattered, raining glass down onto the sidewalk. I saw no reason for it to have shattered.

Several cars on the busy street shrieked to halts, trying to see what was going on.

"Oh my gosh!" I muttered under my breath. Without any hesitation, I ran towards the front entrance.

I ran past the reception desk, flashing my badge at the woman sitting there, at to the silver elevators in the lobby.

I pressed the 'up' button, and was pleased to have the elevator open almost immediately. I stepped inside and pressed the white button that would direct the elevator to the fourth floor, which I had previously estimated was the floor with the broken window.

The doors opened. The floor was in chaos. Nurses and doctors, as well as several citizens, were rushing around, talking amongst themselves. I caught several phrases as I stepped from the elevator.

"Window shattered!"

"What's going on?"

"Repair costs..."

"Patient unconscious..."

I navigated myself through the crowd of rushing bodies to the reception desk of the floor. A lady with dark hair and skin was chattering quickly on a telephone.

"Yes, it just shattered!... No, we don't know what happened yet... What room? Uh, 4027... Um, that would be Zakary Jameson's room..." She said into the receiver. I cocked my head and tapped her on the shoulder. Zakary Jameson was on of the murder victim's uncles.

The receptionist held up a finger to indicate that I should wait.

Annoyed, I pulled out my FBI badge and held it up. Her eyes widened, then looked to me.

"Um, I am going to have to call you back, a Fed just showed up... Ok bye." She said, then hung up the phone.

"Yes?" She asked politely.

"Alexander Donovan, FBI." I stated.

"Why are the Feds interested in a broken window?" She asked. Looking at me as if I was crazy.

"We aren't. I was just outside and came to see what happened..." I started. The receptionist folded her hands impatiently on the desk.

"Well, we have no idea what happened. The window in the patient'a room shattered. Since the patient is now unconscious, we cannot question him." She said. I began to tap the desk lightly with my forefinger.

"About that... I heard you mention a Zakary Jameson?" I asked. The woman nodded.

"Yes, that is the patient." She said briefly. I nodded.

"Yeah, I need to talk to him about a case I'm working. Can I wait in the waiting room and see him when he wakes up?" I asked. The receptionist motioned to the plush seats across the room.

"Go ahead." I flashed her a smile, turned, and walked to the seating area. I sat in a seat next to a brown haired young man, who was holding his head in his hands.

After sitting for several minutes, a young nurse walked into the seating area. She held a tiny baby wrapped in a light blue blanket.

"Sir?" She called.

The man next to me raised his head. His face was red. As soon as he saw the nurse, the man stood and walked over to her.

"Congratulations!" The nurse said cheerily, placing the child in his father's arms. I watched, and couldn't help feeling overjoyed for this young father.

"H-how is my wife?" The young man stuttered softly, smiling at his baby.

"She is resting. You can come see her if you want." The nurse replied. The man laughed.

"Yes, thank you!" He followed her down the hall, leaving me with a slight smile on my face.

After about fifteen minutes, during which I continued to smile, I heard my name.

"Agent Donovan?"

I looked up to see a male doctor in his early fifties walking into the seating area. I quickly put a serious look on my face and stood. We briefly shook hands.

"Dr. Andrew Holloway." The doctor introduced himself.

"Has Mr.Jameson woken up?" I asked. Dr. Holloway nodded and motioned for me to follow. I consented.

We walked down a long hallway bustling with doctors and nurses alike. At the end of the hall, I was led into a hospital room.

In the center of the room was a long white hospital bed, in which a man lay.

The patient, who was Zakary Jameson, had crazy black hair, pale skin, and a broken right arm in a sling. Large red cuts ran across the right side of his forehead and face. He was sitting up in bed, staring blankly at the opposite wall. He did not even notice when I walked up to the bed.

"Mr. Jameson?" I asked. Zak started, jumping as if I had scared or snuck up behind him. His head whipped to face me, his eyes wide in what looked like fear.

I put up a hand.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." I apologized. Zak nodded slowly, not saying a word.

I held up my badge and pulled up a chair.

"Mr. Jameson, I need to talk to you about the murder of your nephew, Anthony Turner."

• • •

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. If so, leave a comment below!