I dressed and made a point to not make the bed. If she were so eager to get in and clean, I'd make it worth her while. I knew this was petty, but my hangover roared within me, which made it ever so difficult to move quickly.
Soon enough, though, I snuck out of the room with my overnight bag in tow and the half-empty Gatorade in hand. I approached the front desk to check out, but no one sat in the seat there. I rang the little bell on the counter several times, but no one came out to greet me. Huffing and puffing, I left enough cash to cover the room on the desk, covered by a paperweight. They could figure it out themselves.
Minutes later, I cruised across town with the windows down and the fresh breeze running through my hair. The cool air aroused my senses while the Gatorade provided the much-needed fuel to ward away my headache and quivering body.
I glanced in the rearview mirror to see my bloodshot eyes staring back. I should have gone home to sleep some more, but I needed to tell the department about Callie's boyfriend, if they didn't already know.
I pulled into the police department's lot, noting it was much smaller than my former department's back in Ashford. Then again, that was no surprise considering Keygate was about half the size, or even smaller, than my current town.
Parking in a visitor's spot, I popped a piece of gum into my mouth and dabbed a few drops of perfume onto the nape of my neck. I hoped I wouldn't reek like sweat and alcohol, especially walking into a police station.
I strode through the entrance of the faded brick building, having been inside many, many years ago for a tour when I first became interested in criminal justice. Sergeant Morton offered to show me around back then, delighted to see a young woman determined to join the force.
While my memory wasn't the best these days, I could tell with ease that not much had changed inside the department since I last visited. The carpet appeared to be the same navy blue and speckled print, and the walls were covered with decades-old posters of missing kids and wanted men and women. Clearly, no one cared to redecorate or modernize the station. I approached the front desk and found a pleasant face staring back at me.
"Renlee," I said with a smile.
"Hey, Elle. Everything okay?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
"Yes, yes. I was hoping to speak to the sergeant.”
Renlee turned in his seat to gaze back at the cubicles behind him. He scanned the area, his eyes stopping upon an office in the corner of the room. "I don't think he's here right now.”
I shifted my weight from one foot to another. "Well, it's kind of important that I talk to him.”
Other officers in the room peeked over their cubicle walls to look at me. Cameron caught my eye, and I waved faintly. He nodded and returned his focus to the outdated computer on his desk.
"I can leave a message for him?" Renlee asked.
I leaned close enough to smell Renlee's aftershave. I peered deep into his eyes, hoping to capture his full attention. "It's about Callie Jacksun.”
Renlee's eyes grew, and he nodded. "Well, let's go outside, and we can talk, huh?”
"You're sure the sergeant isn't here?”
He shook his head and stepped out from behind the desk before he led the way back outside toward the parking lot. I followed him earnestly, hoping he'd take my lead seriously. I knew I wasn't an officer anymore, but that didn't stop me from wanting to solve the case. Callie deserved justice one way or another.
We sat upon a faded wood bench beside the building. Because it was daytime, not many cars drove past the station, which was located in downtown Keygate. Birds flew overhead and sang as loudly as they could.
Renlee pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. "You want one?”
My stomach churned at the thought. "No, thanks.”
He shrugged and lit the cigarette, which hung loosely in his mouth. "So, what's up?"
I cleared my throat and tried to steady myself. My legs bounced up and down in anticipation while I attempted to take a few even breaths. "Callie had a boyfriend.”
Renlee scoffed. "I'm sure she did.”
"Renlee, this is serious. I found out that she had a boyfriend who was married. Have you looked into this? Maybe you already know about him?”
Renlee inhaled from his cigarette and exhaled, making sure to blow the smoke away from me. He sipped from the oversized coffee mug he brought outside with him.
"Elle, you know this isn't your place," he said. “Did you forget what we talked about?”
I groaned. "I know, I know. Okay? But it's important we find out who killed Callie!"
A group of teenagers strolled by the police station. I couldn't remember if it was still spring break for the schools, but I couldn't help but watch them as they walked by. So carefree, devoid of life's hardships. Someday they'd learn.
"Not 'we,’” Renlee said.
I looked over to him curiously.
"Elle, I know you want to help, but you can't. You're not a detective anymore, and even if you were, this isn't your jurisdiction.”
I rolled my eyes. "I know this, Renlee. But can't I still provide tips as a concerned citizen?”
"Listen," he said with a stern tone. "We're doing our best. We haven't found any evidence of a boyfriend, because if we did, we would have brought him in first thing. You need to let us do our jobs and stop meddling in police affairs.”
I shuddered. Was he still sour about the other night? Was this why he was acting so harshly with me?
I turned to face him. "No, you listen. Just because you haven't found evidence of a boyfriend doesn't mean there wasn't one. You need to look harder!" My voice rose as my chest heaved up and down passionately.
Renlee flicked his cigarette into the bushes and stood. His face no longer carried an air of friendliness, but he gazed at me reproachfully. "You need to stay out of it, Dahlia. This isn't your job anymore. If we need help from a private investigator, we'll ask. Not to mention, people are talking about you being back.”
“What does that mean?” I spat.
“Seems like you’ve been out drinking a lot. And after what happened with Peter, how could I know what you’re telling me is even credible?”
“Renlee, you know me!”
“I thought I did,” he said, trailing off. “First, you’re accusing Peter, the guy we’ve known since we were kids, of having something to do with Callie’s death. And now you think she had other boyfriends when we haven’t found any evidence of that. I’m sorry, but I can’t put myself on the line for things you think are happening. And you still smell like alcohol, Elle.”
With that, Renlee strode back into the station without as much as a goodbye. It was clear the Keygate PD didn't want my assistance. But that wouldn't stop me from finding out the truth on my own.
Thirty
My mind, stuck on cruise control, drove home to my parents' house. However, I wasn't intending on going inside. Instead, I sped down the street and parked in front of the house several doors down: Callie's house.
The black and yellow police tape was gone, but an eerie vibe clung to the air. Even if her parents painted the house and renovated the insides, it'd always be the place Callie was murdered. Hesitantly, I ambled toward the front door. I glanced over both my shoulders to see if anyone watched me as I rang the doorbell.