"He's not here! I'm telling you I wouldn't mistake a perfect looking guy like him in a million years!" I say, frustrated.
Lucas glances at me with an irritated—if not a bit jealous—look.
"Well, look again! He must've been here somewhere, right?" He turns to his right, talking to air while I know he intends to talk to his sister. I put my hand around his chin and turn his head in the opposite direction.
"She's over here." I refer to his left.
"Oh." Even with the dim light around us, I can tell his cheeks flustered. "Now, look again! Just take your time, I'm sure he's here somewhere!" he tries to change the subject.
I grunt. "Fine!"
Earlier, the detective had this 'bright idea' to search for John's photo in the twins' yearbook. He insists that they must've met John in school; hence his photo must've been in the school's yearbook. But even after looking at each of the hundreds of photos once more, neither I nor June can find John's photo.
"This guy! Is it this guy?" Lucas says, pointing at a boy wearing a scary grin in one of the twins' school field trip photos, "He sure looks like he could grow up to be a serial killer."
His opinion—although true—makes me want to slap him in the head. I manage to get a hold of myself though, throwing a sharp gaze instead. "For your information, John looks exactly the opposite of this."
He shrugs. "Well... I was just saying..."
While I continue to flip the pages, Lucas lets out a deep sigh. "All this would be a lot easier if Mr. P was still alive..."
His words catch my attention. I stop observing and turn towards the man. "Mr. P?"
"Yeah, Mr. Papadopoulos. You remember him, right?"
"Sure, but what does anything have to do with Mr. P?"
I gasp, all of a sudden having a crazy thought across my mind. "Don't tell me he can see ghosts, too!"
Lucas rebuffs my theory with a pout and a set of judging eyes.
"Oh... Guess that's impossible, huh?" I flash a guilty smile before returning my gaze to the book I'm holding.
"He was our unofficial sketch artist, Doc," he explains. "What I mean is, if only he was still alive, you could've described John's appearance, have him draw it and then maybe someone would recognize him."
"Oh! That's... actually a great idea," I mutter under my breath, a bit surprised and largely disappointed at myself of how I didn't actually think of that before. "So, why don't we just go and ask someone else? There must be another sketch artist, right?"
Instead of a smile that I was hoping for, in the corner of my eyes I can see him biting his lower lip and looking frustrated instead. "Yes, there are. But how am I supposed to explain to Captain Morris how you know John? She won't believe any of these for sure! Now if only Mr. P was here, that's a different story."
"How so?"
"Well... he's unofficial for a reason. Sometimes, we—detectives—get leads by rather 'unusual' methods. Cap doesn't always agree with them and that's when we go to Mr. P. He didn't ask too many questions. In short, we can trust him," he explains.
"Ah..." I mumble, slightly disappointed.
"Well, then, I'm afraid we're stuck with me and her," my head gestures to the little girl sitting next to me. "Now, June, think again," I say as I flip a page. "Where else did you ever go? Summer camp, maybe?"
"Nah," Lucas scoffed off my idea. "Our parents were one of those over-protective ones. They just let us go to school and back. We never went anywhere without their supervision."
Here I thought they were lucky to be born into such a rich family. To think that my parents always gave me the freedom I needed. I guess the grass really is always greener on the other side, eh?
"What about guests?" I say. "Your family seemed to be such a prominent one in this town. They must've had lots of guests, right?"
"I guess that's possible..." he mutters, sounding unsure. "But how are we going to find each and every one of our past guests? It was 26 years ago, for Christ's sake! And it's not like we had a guestbook or something," he concludes with a desperate tone.
"Well, do you have a photobook? If they saw him at a party or something, there could've been a photo, right?" I say, trying to shed a different light in the investigation.
He doesn't answer right away, but I can tell from his expression that he's giving it a thought. "Wait here. I'll get the others."
He stands up, then storms out the room. It isn't long before he comes back to the room with a pile of photobooks on his hands.
"You've got to be kidding me..." The amount of books he's holding makes my eyes widen and sends me into despair.
"Argh! This is like searching for a needle in a haystack! It's impossible!" I throw the book I'm holding to the air out of frustration and fling myself onto the bed. The book hits the floor, causing a loud thump.
Lucas takes his seat next to me on the bed. "Calm down, Doc. I'm sure he's here somewhere. After all, they had to have met somewhere. You'll just have to be patient, that's all."
But instead of paying attention to the detective's words, I close my eyes while my mind is fixated on the soft bed I'm laying on. Never have I ever slept on a bed this soft and comfortable, it makes me really sleepy in an instant. I bet I could finally get that good night sleep I've been missing this past couple of weeks.
Hmm... Princess Alexis really does sound nice, eh?
June is seriously freaking lucky... if she's not dead, that is.
Hmm. Speaking of whom... "June?" I open my eyes and turn to look at the girl sitting next to her brother.
"Yes, miss?"
I switch into a sitting position and put on my serious face. "About what I asked earlier, can you remember anything else about that night?"
She takes a deep breath and starts to ponder her thoughts. "Well..."
All of a sudden, the door to the room swings open. I gasp as fear creeps into my blood in an instant.
Oh, no! The boogeyman is here to kill us, isn't he?
Don't be silly, Evil Me! There's no such thing as the boogeyman.
But there is a killer out there.
Dammit. You're right. I hate it when you're right.
Before I know it, Lucas already points his gun at the door, getting ready to shoot if anyone comes in. We can't see anyone at the door yet, not even a shadow. We can only hear the sound of the door creaking open. I brace myself to peek over Lucas' shoulder to glance at the door.
"What's with all that noise, sis?"
I breathe out a long sigh of relief when I finally catch a glimpse of the boy who is standing by the door while rubbing his eyes.
"Jude!" June approaches his twin brother while shouting gleefully, "Look who's here!" She glances over her shoulder, gesturing to the detective.
Jude stops rubbing his eyes in an instant and replies with a bright tone, excited to see his not-so-little-anymore brother. "Jamie!"
"It's okay... It's just Jude..." I say, patting the detective's strong shoulder, signaling him to lower his gun.
"Geez..." He drags his left hand through his hair while he retracts his other hand and puts his gun back into its holster.
Then, after a short while, his expression turns surprised. Not long after, a mischievous grin comes across his face which makes me curious. I tilt my head a little, throwing him a confused look instead. His grin grows as he signals me to look at his shoulder. It is then when I finally notice where I was—and more importantly where my hands were—all this time. It appears my fear has caused me to jump up and hide behind the detective, with my hands clamping heavily on his shoulder.
Dammit! I quickly retract my hands, close my eyes for a split second and bite my lower lip out of defeat as I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. The fact that I can hear the twins giggling at me makes it even worse.
I clear my throat. "S- ss- so, you two. I need to ask you a question about that night... the night the Boogeyman came."
I can tell the mention of the feared name sends chills to the twins. Jude's eyes widen as he takes one step back. "U-uh-uhm..."
I get up and walk towards the twins. I stop right in front of them and kneel before them, all the while putting on my best smile. "It's okay... he won't hurt you anymore." I gaze at the detective for a while before returning my gaze towards the scared little boy. "Jamie's a superhero now, remember? He can protect you."
My words seem to have relieved them. Slowly but surely, the fear in their eyes diminishes. "O-okay."
"So, do you remember anything, anything at all, about that night, apart from those you have told me?"
Jude tilts his head a little, giving it a thought. But then, after a while, he shakes his head. I turn to look at June, hoping for her to say differently, but she mirrors her brother's action.
"How about his appearances? Maybe... something that particularly stood out?"
The boy and the girl look like they're thinking the (no pun intended) life out of them, but they don't give an answer right away.
"What about his height? You said John was too tall to be the Boogeyman, so how tall exactly was the Boogeyman?"
"Well... we don't know for sure. But... I think he's about the same height as the screaming lady. But then again... he was dragging her...," Jude replies.
Uh oh. I'm beginning to doubt if these kids are reliable witnesses after all.
"It's okay. That's good! Good!" I say, trying to cover my doubts. I turn to look at the detective and repeat what the boy said to me and add, "That should narrow it down, right?"
"If we have a suspect list, yeah." He gets up and walks closer to me. He stops behind me and bends over, trying to talk to his siblings in front of me. "Do you happen to see his face? Maybe a particular scar... or his age! Was he old or young?"
The kids shake their heads in return. "It was really dark and he was really scary... We didn't have the courage to go near him..."
"Yes... We were too scared... Although, come to think of it..." June pauses, getting my hopes up. "I think the way he walked was pretty funny."
"Funny how?"
"What is it?" Lucas asks with curiosity in his voice.
"They say the Boogeyman walked funny." I return my gaze to the kids. "Did he wear some sort of braces on his legs?"
"I... don't know, really. It was dark, I couldn't see clearly."
"Okay, okay... that's good, though!" I reply, trying to compliment the kids, hoping it would help jog their memories.
"What about the gender? Are you sure it was a man? Or could it be a woman?" Lucas continues.
"Now that I can answer!" I turn round in a sudden move, causing Lucas to jerk his head back out of surprise. "It was definitely a man," I continue with confidence.
The baffled detective raises one brow. "How'd you know?"
"Well... I kinda saw what happened that night too..." My explanation seems to have left him even more confused. "I'll explain more about that later. Now kids," I return my gaze to the twins, "Anything else?"
They shake their head heavily. "Sorry, Miss..."
"Oh... it's okay. Thank you, though. You two have been very, very helpful," I say, ending it with a warm smile to try to conceal my disappointment. I throw my gaze at Lucas and shake my head lightly.
Before I can think of anything else, a voice echoes from afar, "Lexi!"
I stand up immediately after hearing the voice and walk towards the door. I can hear John's voice originating from the first floor, calling my name repeatedly.
"John? I'm upstairs!" I shout.
It doesn't take long before he arrives in front of me. "Lexi, you have to see it. I remember something! I..." his voice trails away as his expression slowly turns into horror. Then, I sense a man is standing behind me, which is probably the reason for John's look of terror.
"It's okay, he knows," I say.
John narrows his eyes suspiciously. "He does?"
I give a firm nod. "Is he here?" Lucas asks.
"Yeah." I glance at Lucas. "He said he remembers something." Returning my gaze to the spirit in front of me, I continue, "John?"
His look slowly turns into caution. I turn to glance at Lucas and see him giving out the exact same reaction as John. I don't know why I'm starting to hear Jango's theme song in the back of my mind. Even though Lucas can't see John, why does it feel like I'm in the middle of a Mexican stand-off?
I close my eyes tight and shake my head ferociously, getting rid of the strange thoughts.
"John? You said you remember something?"
"Yeah," he replies, still looking cautious. "Come on. I need to show you something."
John takes us to the backyard and stops in front of one of the big oak tree. "It should be around here." He points at the tree, taking a step back so Lucas and I can take a closer look.
I shine my flashlight towards the tree. Lucas steps forward and bends slightly. Then, he holds his flashlight with his mouth, squints his eyes and starts observing the tree. I also take one step closer towards the tree, even though I have absolutely no idea what I'm searching for. Then, Lucas takes out the key to his bike. He spends some time poking the key to make a hole in the tree. He grunts and curses a few times; unable to take out whatever he wants to take out from the tree. It seems like he needs a sharper object.
That's when I remember I have the perfect thing to help him. I open my bag and my hand carefully roams inside it. I stop the second my finger hits the tip of the object. Slowly, I take it out.
"Here." I nudge his elbows and hands it to him.
"Whoa!" He jumps backward in shock. "What the hell are you doing carrying a kitchen knife? Don't tell me you actually want to kill someone with it!"
"Girlscouts never come unprepared." I grin widely to cover my anxiety. I can't possibly say I wanted to use this for self-defense against him, can I? Besides, I was a girl scout, so I'm not entirely lying.
"You're creepy, you know that?"
"Well, you are talking to a girl who's been institutionalized."
With a displeased look on his face, he reluctantly takes the knife from my hand and starts jabbing the tree with it. He takes his time trying to take out whatever it is in the tree, not wanting to break it, I suppose.
"Got a tissue or a cloth in that magical bag of yours?" he asks with a sarcastic tone, still focusing on taking out the thing in the tree.
With one hand holding the flashlight towards my bag, my other hand is busy finding the tissue. It doesn't take long before I find it. I take one ply and pass it to him.
"Aha!" he shouts with an accomplished look on his face. He finally succeeds as I see the knife manages to grub the small thing out of the tree and onto the tissue he's holding. I shine my flashlight towards his hand and my attention is quickly drawn to the small thing on the tissue: A bullet.
"Have you found it?" John approaches us.
With the tissue still wrapping around the bullet, Lucas uses his thumb and index finger to hold the bullet in order to show it to us. He takes some time observing it before finally concluding, "This is the same type of bullet that was found in Jill St. John's body."
John and I exchange a look of hope.
"But... this doesn't make any sense!" he continues.
"Why not?" I ask.
Lucas turns around and points at the pink flowers among the blue ones across the garden. "Jill St. John was shot there. Why would the murderer shot a bullet in a totally different direction? The killer is an amateur, I get it. But I don't think anyone would make such a big mistake unless they're blind."
"He was trying to shoot me," John interrupts.
"What do you mean he was trying to shoot you?" I reply.
"I had... flashes of what happened that night," he says hesitantly. Then, he starts walking towards the house. I, and eventually Lucas, follow the spirit without having any idea what we're in for.
He stops by the patio and throws his gaze to the front gate through the opened door. "That night, I remember parking over there." John points to the spot near the front gate. "There was another car already parked and... I can't remember how, but I knew Jill was here."
I echo what he's saying to Lucas.
"Does he remember what kind of car it was?" Lucas asks.
"It was... a dark sedan. I'm sure of it. But I didn't take a clear look at it... I didn't think I needed to..." his voice trails away while a hint of guilt is heard in it.
I step closer to John, holding one arm towards him in an attempt to comfort him. For one split second, I forget he's a spirit. Once I remember, I retract my hand to my sides. "It's okay, John. It wasn't your fault."
But John's guilt is still shown on his face. "Just when I stop, I heard a loud gunshot from the back. So I ran straight to the backyard."
As we head back to the backyard, I keep echoing the words John said so Lucas would understand. We finally stop at the place where Jill is supposedly shot, the same spot I saw in my vision.
"Then I found her." His face turns into sorrow; I swear I can see his eyes watering. "I quickly ran towards her, and... I held her in my arms. I tried to help her, but I was too late," he pauses and throws his gaze away from me.
"She was already dead."
I echo what John said to me and add, "That must've been how her blood was transferred into his clothes."
The look on Lucas' face tells me he's not going to buy it that easily. Then again, why should he? All the evidence points at John as the murderer and what we have is only his word. A word of a man who doesn't remember much about his past; a man only I can see. If I'm going to prove John's innocence, I'm going to need much more than his testimony.
Now the question is, how am I going to get that evidence if John doesn't even remember much about that night?
Well... there is that one thing.
"Hey, detective?"
"Huh?"
"By any chance, was Jill St. John pregnant?"
Evil Me's words seem to have shocked him. It takes a while before he starts to take a grip and answers, "Yeah... How'd you know that?"
Are you sure we're going to do this, Evil Me? It's pretty crazy.
What else can we do?
"John?" Evil Me says.
"Huh?"
"Why don't you possess me?"
Author's Note:
So, what do you think of the clues? Can you guess who the suspects are? Or even guess who the killer is?
Anyway, as always, don't forget to comment and/or vote! Thanks for reading :)