3.//DAYS

//THINGS AREN'T ALWAYS WHAT THEY SEEM.// That's what my mother used to tell me. She was naturally very intuitive. She could tell something was going to happen before it actually happened. She could pick out the rotten apples when my sister or I brought home a new friend, or date, and you'd always hear about it when you got home. //"Be careful. There's something amiss about that one,"// she'd say. She'd never tell you what she knew until after it happened, but by then you didn't have to say anything. She could just tell. There was a mysterious other-worldly sense of knowing that floated around her like a veil; a strange connection she had to the spiritual vibrations around her. I remember when my Aunt Maud, her sister (and only family) passed away. They'd hated each other most of the their adult lives, but on this rare occasion Mom, while sipping her mid-morning coffee, stopped dead and looked out the kitchen window. Like she'd realized something urgent she'd forgotten. The oven is on! The car's still running! I'm late for an appointment! All of the trivial things Mom would forget because she was so deeply in-tune with everything not in this world. //"Call Aunt Maudie."// Not a question. A command. I froze, dropping my spoon into my bowl of cornflakes, and dialed Maud's number from an all-but-forgotten piece of paper stuck to the fridge. She stared for some time, but her eyes glazed over while it rang. I handed her the phone. She grabbed it without missing a beat. Our eyes never met. The silence between us was eerie. I shivered, the hair on my neck standing on end. Goosebumps crawled up my arms. I waited for her to give me the verdict. The answering machine came on. I could hear it faintly. //"This is Maud. Leave your name and number!"//, it grunted. The recording reflected Maudie's generally unpleasant, short-tempered nature. My mother hung up the phone, defeated. She sighed deeply. "What!? That's it?" I asked incredulously, the panic I'd begun to feel giving way to annoyance. //"It's too late, I see her,"// was the response. "What is!?" I raised my voice in angered anticipation. But she walked away, and said nothing further. She was always so composed, even when she really wasn't. The next day, we went to Maud's [[Funeral]].

Maud was an old crab of a woman. She was older than her sister, my mother. Much, much older. They hadn't shared the same mother, and grew up estranged. When my parents married, everyone on my father's side called her Monster Maudie, because everyone that knew her said that she was a terrible, jealous, spiteful person. As ugly on the outside as she was on the inside, they'd snort. She grew up jealous of my mother, they say. My mother was beautiful and got all of the attention she craved for herself. She wanted nothing to do with me or my sister. ••• The next morning, we laid wreaths of peonies and Cala lilies on her casket, Maud's favourite flowers. There were hardly any people at her funeral. I can't say I was surprised. What did surprise me was the way my mother looked from her grave to the sky abruptly when she left. //"I'm sorry, Maudie,"// were the words I swore she whispered. Like she was looking right at her. She turned and left as we all walked back to the car while I stared. I was the only one who saw. Then it hit me. ••• Mom could see souls. But more than that, she could see Death, even before it happened. //I wonder if she saw her own before her killer [[shot her in the back of the head]].//

//The sky was dark and grey, the last light of a November evening suffocating behind a mass of angry rain clouds. I was on my way from one job to another. My regular 9AM-to-5PM ending, and my 9PM-to-4AM beginning. It was a typical life of a post-grad, working insane hours trying to recover from physically (and emotionally) crippling student debt. I worked at an office job on regular days and bar-tended Friday and Saturday nights at a some bougie, insanely-priced nightclub for the filthy rich. Everything was excessive there. The service. The drinking. The clients. I’d never imagined you could see so many fake breasts, cheeks, and noses in one place outside of Hollywood. They chased absinthe with adderall here. I knew bar-keeps who would sweep up the extra blow off of the bathroom floors at the end of the night, and cut with E to sell later. Some of the go-go dancers doubled as escorts, and did extra favors for a price. My mother hated that I worked here. She always believed that surrounding yourself with illegal activity or bad people tainted your aura, or whatever she called it. Bad mojo. Bullshit, I thought. But she said it followed me like a cloud of smoke. Maybe that was her way of telling me to get out. You know, before something bad happened. She called me right before I was about to leave for the club. I was running late, so I ignored it. I got into my car in the pouring rain and sped off into the storm. I didn't know that a pick-up truck would make an illegal left turn, and pulverize my little car into oblivion. I didn't know it would be the last chance I'd ever have to speak to her again. All I saw were the headlights that came barelling towards my head. There was a bang, like the loudest thunder I'd ever heard. And then darkness. I should've taken that damn phone [[call]]. //

I woke up in a start. My head was pounding. I was covered in sweat. My heart raced. But I wasn't in a car, or in some mangled mess. I wasn't fresh out of the shower, on my way to pull an all-nighter at the club, or dodging calls from my strange, over-protective, all-seeing mother. I was in my apartment. //What?// The alarm clock on my bedside table was screaming, reading 8 AM. My cell phone was lighting up with a racket, vibrating so furiously, it threatened to buzz right off the edge and on to the floor. There was a faint pounding on the door. And someone yelling. They sounded an awful lot like Rudy, my boss from the bar. But what was Rudy doing here at 8AM? //Hello!? You in there?// I got up in a start. Nothing made sense, but I knew enough that I realized I was late for work. I fought the urge to stress-vomit. I ran to the door. [[Answer it!]] [[Don’t answer!]]

I faced the music. I opened the door slowly, fighting the nervousness. “Hi, Rudy.” “Don’t “Hi Rudy” me, you lazy schmuck. Why the hell are you still in your pj’s? Get up, we’ve gotta be at the station in half an hour, or the boss’ll shove our heads up each other’s asses.” He was dressed in a plain grey two piece suit, brown trench coat, and a matching hat. I looked him over, confused. “Boss? Uh, what?” I asked incredulously. Rudy //was// the boss. What was he talking about? “//Boss? What?//” he mocked. “Jesus Christ, kid. I can’t believe //you// were the star pick of the academy. Go get your suit on, and try to look like a presentable officer of the law. If you’re not downstairs in my car in ten minutes, I’m leaving. Get your sh#t together.” He turned on his heel and left, mumbling cuss words at me under his breath. Rudy was a sleezy, money grubbing, asshole when he ran the bar. But today, he was dressing and acting like a completely different person. And my desk job was in H.R. My brain felt fried, like scrambled eggs replaced the thinking machine between my ears overnight. I fought the rising panic I felt, and forced myself back to the room to collect my things. What the hell does a cop take to work? I sure as hell didn’t know. I threw the closet open to get one of my normal H.R. get-ups. Cue mind-f*^k number 2: “What the hell happened to all of my clothes?” Everything I previously owned didn’t seem to exist anymore. Everything was replaced by semi-nice suits, and navy uniforms. I didn’t have time to gawk. Rudy seemed to be the only guy I could get information from, so I threw on the first thing I found. If I had to pretend to be a cop for a day to make sense of everything, so be it. //Sh#t, what else do I bring?// [[Notepad and pen]], genius! Your [[badge]], dingbat! [[Your gun and holster.]] What are you, some kind of idiot?

I stood behind the door, heart in my throat. Rudy continued pounding on the door. He sounded pissed. Did I not show up for work last night? Just [[Answer it!]]

I ransack the place for anything “cop-related”. I find a notepad and pen on the desk in the corner of the apartment. It was strange... everything seemed unchanged. It was eerie. What else do I need? [[badge]] [[Your gun and holster.]]

I find a wallet and keys on the kitchen counter. The inside of the wallet has my driver’s license, info, and a badge from the local police department. I stared at the photo in bewilderment. //Holy shit. When the hell did this happen?// I had no time to wonder, though. I was almost out of time. What else? [[Notepad and pen]] [[Your gun and holster.]]

By the door, there was a dusty old table. On it was a holster, a gun, and some important looking files. I grabbed the lot, ran out the door. I locked it with haste, and sped out to the [[parking lot]].

Rudy was there waiting for me in a squad car. I hopped into the passenger seat. “Barely made it. You kids today couldn’t learn the meaning of punctuality if it shoved a glock where the sun don’t shine, and pulled the trigger.” His “you kids today” nagging was still the same. He handed me a coffee, now cold, as he sped off toward the station. “I see you brought the case files. Good thing you’re not totally useless.” //Yup, still a d^ck.// I thought. On the way, Rudy filled me in on the case, and I glossed over the files. Moira Kennedy, 64. Found in a parking garage at her condo with a bullet in her head. She was an informant for the local P.D. and a psychic. I felt in over my head already on all this cop stuff, and the case files were grizzly. Then I saw the picture of the victim. //Mom!?!// I did puke this time. I hastily rolled down the window, and lost the non-existing contents of my stomach down the side of the car. My vision swam for a minute. “Jesus. How much did you drink last night?” Rudy exclaimed with disgust. “Not. That,” I gasped, my head still lolling outside the window for fresh air. “Not one for blood, huh? Some detective, you’ll turn out to be. As I was saying, the victim was shot executioner style last night, around 8:30PM. Nasty stuff. We’ve taken her daughter in for questioning. That’s where we’re headed now.” I sucked the cool morning air into my lungs, and gathered myself as best as I could. The victim’s name wasn’t my mothers, but the photo was undeniable. So far, I’d learned that no one I knew was who I thought they were, including myself. Now, the woman who raised me as her child wasn’t either, and was lying dead in the morgue. Anger welled up inside of me. I had to find out what was [[going on]].

We got into the station and were greeted by Chief Danson (who was //pissed// about our late arrival). I don’t even remember what he said while he was tearing me and Rudy a new a**hole. I couldn’t help but stare at him, trying not to sh#t a brick. He looked just like my dad. Who died 3 years ago. I pinched myself ten times. Hard. I broke the skin, so no, once again, this wasn’t a dream. “What the hell are you staring at? Get to work!” he barked suddenly. I jumped back to reality in a blink, while Rudy shook his head at me. The Chief stormed away down the hall. “Are you part fish? You guppy-brained ignoramus!” Standing there with your mouth open!” he let his mouth flop open and closed while rolling his eyes back to mock me. He grabbed me by the neck and escorted me to my [[desk]] with a hard shove.

“Now, go over the case files in detail, and try to learn a thing or two,” Rudy ordered. “We question the suspect in a half an hour.” I sat there dumbfounded, trying to figure out what just happened. Wy weren’t there any other cops here at the station? There were desks everywhere, name tags and all. It was like being in the busiest place on earth but all of the people vanished into thin air. That uneasy feeling rose in my stomach again. I sat my case files down on my desk and flipped through them, not knowing what else to do: [[CASE FILE 1: MOIRA KENNEDY]] [[SUSPECT 1: JILL KENNEDY]] [[Screw this, I’ll wing it. I know my own mother.]]

Main take-aways: Moira Kennedy, Age 64. Police Informant and Psychic Advisor for 25+ years. Found in a parking garage at her condo with a bullet in her head. Bullet entered through the back of the skull, indicating the murderer was about a foot and a half taller than the victim. The murder weapon was discharged at close range. There is a slight burn trauma to the skin on the victim’s scalp to indicate barrel was pressed right against their head. There were no signs of a struggle. No other bodily harm came to the victim. Eyes of the victim were closed. No footprints, no finger prints. One bullet was retrieved from the victim’s skull. Interesting notes: The victim used to manage a secret bordello where many cops from the P.D. frequented over the years. //Jesus Christ, Mom’s a criminal?// Instead of shutting down her establishment, Moira could continue operating if she offered to help the P.D. crack down on crime in the city. My world was rocked again. The more I found out about this place, the less I wanted to be here. //What the hell happened to me?// [[SUSPECT 1: JILL KENNEDY]] [[Screw this, I’ll wing it. I know my own mother.]]

Jill Kennedy was arrested last night and taken in for questioning. There was no photo of her yet. An anonymous phone tip lead police to her apartment after they were heard arguing in public the night before the murder. According to the report, she had no memory of the night her mother was murdered. She merely woke up in her bed in her apartment, feeling sick with a headache... With the murder weapon on her bedside table. She had no alibi. The door to her apartment was unlocked when the police went to question her about her mother’s disappearance. The only reason she was found so quickly by the police is an anonymous tip received that she and her mother had been in at least 3 screaming matches outside Moira’s condo in the last 2 weeks. The gun had her prints all over it. Jill reportedly had a problem with her mother's shady business dealings and it was causing problems with her rich fiancé, whose own family took issue with him marrying someone outside of their tax bracket. Jill ran her own graphic design business. She was a highly decorated student, and award-winning business owner. She was a model citizen, a huge contrast to her mother. She had no criminal records. Not one unpaid parking ticket, or outstanding tax return. Strangeness aside, I was determined to get justice for my (not)mother. That meant facing this Jill Kennedy head on. [[QUESTION JILL KENNEDY]]

Reading the case files won't help me. I'm not goddamn cop. I'll just be quiet and let Rudy do all of the questioning. [[QUESTION JILL KENNEDY]]

I should’ve expected this when I walked into the room and found Jill sitting there. For at least the second time today, I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. There is something incredibly uncomfortable about seeing the people you’ve known for a while not recognize you as the person you think you are. It’s something else entirely when the people you’ve known your entire life haven’t a damn clue who you are at all. I sat down across from the suspect and her lawyer. She looked up at me, petrified, with tear stained cheeks, and shaking like a lost dog at the pound. It was a look I’d seen before a million times growing up. That’s because Moira’s daughter and supposed killer just so happened to look exactly like my own sister. She regarded me with scared, puppy-dog eyes. She looked miserable. There was no recognition in her eyes. Just sorrow and disbelief. //This just keeps getting weirder and weirder, doesn’t it?// I nearly laughed out of nervousness and disbelief. Rudy had informed me before we had gone into the room that he would take the lead, and I would take notes because guppy-brains don’t get to do “big-boy” important stuff, as he called it. I already knew he would try and make her look as guilty as possible. But the look on Jill/my sister’s face said it all. She had no goddamn clue why she was there, how the weapon got in her room, and why she had no memory of it all. Now that she knew of her/our mother’s demise, she was not handling it well. I couldn’t blame her. Rudy started before either of us could finish processing what happened. “Where were you last night at 8:30PM, Miss Kennedy?” She sniffled, her voice trembling as she answered. “I was at home in my apartment. I’d come home from work late, and I’d just gotten off the phone with my fiancé. I was watching a movie with a glass of wine... My had a bad headache, so went to my room to sleep, and the next thing I remember, I woke up the next morning, and there was a gun on my nightstand, and the police banging on my door.” “So let me get this straight, you were watching a movie, then all of a sudden, you woke up in your bed with the murder weapon, and you don’t remember a thing in between?” “I didn’t kill my mother. You know that–” “But you were drinking, by your own admission last night, and you just so happened to black out and conveniently not remember murdering somebody. I find that a little hard to believe, Miss Kennedy, especially when the gun has your dainty little finger prints all over it.” Rudy was ruthless. Every time Jill opened her mouth to defend herself, he cut her off at the knees. “I’m telling the truth! I love my mother. Why would I–” “Because eye witnesses said you and your mother had three screaming matches outside her establishment in the two weeks, and her girls were questioned saying you threatened to ruin her.” Rudy was conjuring up a bunch of B.S. to get her to admit to the crime. There were no eye witnesses. Just a phone call to a crime hotline. It didn’t feel right. All the evidence was stacked against her, but I kept quiet waiting to see what would unfold. Her lawyer spoke up, “Don’t answer that.” Infuriated, she didn’t listen. “Ruin her? I never said that. What does that even mean?” Jill asked as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “Moira’s girls say you hated her business, and that it’s reputation was getting out of control. And how is little miss Jill Kennedy supposed to marry the son of the wealthiest investment banker in the city if your mother’s whore house keeps tarnishing your precious reputation. What better way to take care of the problem than by getting rid of her yourself?” The look of shock on Jill’s face was telling. I don’t know how he knew what he knew, but it sure struck a chord with her. Maybe Jill wasn’t so innocent after all? “I may not have liked her business dealings, but I wouldn’t kill my mother just so I can marry rich. That’s preposterous! I’ve worked hard, I own my own successful business, and my relationship with Henry is very secure. I wouldn’t risk throwing my life away because of my mother’s poor life choices! She serviced the city’s most dangerous people, and all you ever did was turn a blind eye because she helped you with cases! If you protected her the way you promised, Rudy, you would know who really killed her, and find out who framed me!” She started to cry again, shoulders trembling as she covered her face. //Why did she call him Rudy, so casually? What was Rudy not telling me?// “//Poor life choices//... See, that’s exactly what a murderer would say. Blame the victim, blame the police, and everyone but them self despite the fact that the smoking gun here is the gaping hole in your memory and the weapon we found 2 feet from your body. You have no alibi. A call to your fiancé isn’t reasonable doubt.” Her lawyer interjected, “I think we’re done here for today.” I took furious notes, for my own records. I regarded Jill one more time before she was escorted off to a jail cell. My heart sank. I couldn’t explain it, but I wasn’t convinced. Something seemed strange. The Jill I knew could toss back an entire bottle of wine and still be coherent. Everyone in my family could. So why would one glass of wine be enough to knock her out? Or give her a headache? Rudy seemed to gloss over all of those details. Was that how cops operated? Was a conviction more important than [[getting to the truth]]?

Today had been a sh*t show. Not only did I not know what I was doing, I still had no idea where I was or what was going on. How did Jill know Rudy? What was Rudy not saying? There was so much I didn't know. Rudy and I had drawn up paper work and waited for evidence to be submitted by Jill's defence to prove her innocence. The rest of the day was spent pretending to convince Rudy that I wasn't a total idiot, and keeping my head down so Chief Danson wouldn't bite our heads off again. There rest of the desks as the station remained empty. Unheimlich was the only word I could use to describe it. Uncanny as all hell, it was. I went to home late that night, barely able to sleep. When exhaustion finally washed over me, quieting my raging and conflicting emotions, I hit the pillow hard and cast off into [[dreamland]].

//I was standing in a hospital room. There were doctors and nurses everywhere. Everything was muffled, like my ears no longer worked properly. My body was in excrutiating pain, but I was frozen. I couldn't move. I tried to scream, but my voice was frozen. Or was it that no one could hear me? I couldn't move my neck, but my eyes frantically scanned about the room for someone to help. It was like everyone knew I was there, but saw through me instead. When I looked down, I saw someone lying in a hospital bed. They were hooked up to life support, their whole body in bandages, casts, complete with a neck brace. Their face was swelled up like a black and blue balloon, a mess of dry blood caked in their hair. Skin and tissue was split open like roadkill. It was horrifying. And then I heard someone say "Have we heard from the mother, yet? Does she want to pull the plug?" "No, not yet. 2 more days. That's all she asks." "Well, she'd better hope for a miracle. Her kid may as well have gone through a trash compactor. Not sure what's left to salvage. For all we know, they're a vegetable by now. You don't get into an accident like that and come out normal on the other side. It just doesn't happen." The next thing I knew, I was blinded by lights. They came out nowhere, from the corner of my eyes. I felt the breath leave my body. Fear paralyzed me. Warmth spread down my legs as my bladder acted independently of my body. This time I did scream. [[And then there was nothing]].

I woke up screaming. The pain wasn't there, but the fear and cold sweat remained. Much to my delight, I had actually pissed the bed. I got up gingerly, trying not to soak the mattress futher, but before I made it to cleaning myself up, I puked. Hard. It was 6:12 AM. //F*^k me.// I cleaned my mess, and got ready for work. Very slowly. My vision swam and my head lolled from side to side and I forced myself into the shower. I stood under the scorching hot water for some time. ••• I barely made it out and got dressed in time for Rudy to come banging on my door again. I opened it without a word, and stepped outside. "The hell's wrong with you, guppy-brain?" he raised his brows at me, taking a step back nervously. "Don't worry. It's only mildly contagious," I groaned. The old Rudy I knew was a skeeze, but for a guy that owned such a nasty "up-scale" establishment, it struck me as odd how much a germaphobe he was. At least that hadn't changed. "If I catch what you have, and have to take sicks days off, I'm going to come to your apartment and puke on your welcome mat." I ignored him as I walked towards the stairs to head down to the parkinglot. I couldn't handle his prick attitude in my current state. The ride to the station was mostly quiet. But there was one question I was dying to ask. "How do you know the suspect again?" "What kind of dumb question is that? Her mother's an informant remember?" "She called you Rudy, like she knew you well." "Everyone calls me Rudy, wiseass. It's my name. Go back to bed. We're almost at the station." I remained silent. I didn't like how dismissive he was of my question. Wasn't I supposed to be investigating with him? When we got to the station, the Chief requested an update. Rudy told him what we knew. The Chief had a strange expression on his face. Like he was surprised, but not with the investigation. "I never thought she had it in her. Jill was always such a nice girl. Ah well. Good work detectives." The day was a blurr. Until [[Henry Whatshisname]] barged into the station.

Henry Howarth. Son of a billionaire investment banker. Set to take over the family business. He was your prince charming archetype. It was kind of nauseating really. The strange part was that this was actually my sister's real-life boyfriend, but the Henry I knew wasn't some billionaire-to-be. He came from a small family, and a poor one. But Henry, who I knew as Geoffrey Freedman, worked his ass off to make a living for himself. He treated my sister like a princess. I'd always been happy for them. My real mother treated him like a son. Apparently not so much, in this world. He marched through the doors of the department with his best lawyers in tow. "What the hell is going on here?" The Chief was the first to intercept them. "Where is Jill? I demand to see her, now!" Henry ordered. "This is my department! I'll make the demands around here. You don't just barge into my office and take what you want. This is a police station. That's not how it works here, son." Danson was fired right up. Henry stuck up his nose and looked down at the Chief, being just a hair taller. "Where is Jill!? My lawyers are going to be looking after her case." "MISS KENNEDY is in custody on suspicion of murdering her own mother. And don't you get all high and mighty with me, young man. This is //my// department, and she's already being represented." One of his lawyers chimed in, handing over paperwork. The case has been signed over to our office. We'll be resuming the case. We felt that the current defence was... //unfit// to represent Miss Kennedy." Danson glared and he took the stack of documents and read them. "Fine," he grunted. And he went about setting up a meeting with Jill and her new attorneys. Henry went to go with them, but Danson stopped him in his tracks. "Not you, pretty boy. They may work for you, but they're her lawyers now. Legal council only." Danson shut the door to his office right in Henry's face. Henry nearly sh#t a brick. He eyed me, and stormed right over, like I was the next target on his war path. "Are you the detective investigating Moira's murder?" "Who wants to know?" Rudy cut in for me. "I don't remember asking you," Henry scoffed as he turned his attention back to me. "Well?" I nodded. "Well, you have the wrong person. I was on the phone with her for an hour at the time the murder was placed. I had her cell phone pinged between cell towers that weren’t even close to Moira’s location." "Bullsh#t! And how do you know what time the murder was placed? That's privileged information," Rudy questioned with a suspicious glaze. “I’m a privileged person whose tax dollars, and donations fund your paychecks! And when my fiancée is on trial for murder, I expect to know.” Henry sneered. This is where the similarities to Geoff ended. Henry commanded authority. He took no sh*t, and gave none either. “And how do I know your privilege didn’t buy false doctored records to get Jill out of prison? It’s not like that shit isn’t above your family,” Rudy went below the belt with something I knew nothing about. Henry grabbed Rudy’s collar threateningly. “Don’t threaten me with your [[slanderous horsesh#t]], or I’ll sue your a$$ to high heaven. I can't believe they put a //failed cop// and a kid in charge of this case.” //Would Henry really doctor evidence to [[get what he wants]]?//

Once upon a time, Henry's father was the subject a counter-suit under the suspicion of doctoring evidence that would prove his former co-founding partner was embezzling money, in order to gain sole control over the company. The two partners had a major, public falling out, and this was the result. Henry’s father denied the allegations. They settled in court, so the public never heard the resolution of the case. Ever since then, the Howarth’s have had to deal with the resulting reputation. No one knows if his father actually had it doctored or not. His father was not a popular man, whereas his former partner was. Would Henry really doctor evidence to [[get what he wants]]?

Henry released Rudy, and regarded me again and said, "She's innocent. She can't possibly be in two placed at once. You can check with the cell companies. The evidence is real." He turned on his heel and left. Rudy and I spent the rest of the afternoon not discussing much of anything. He was seething under his hat, as he cleaned his gun, something I imagined he'd do only as a form of stress relief. There was a recent burn mark on his left hand close to his fingers. ••• When I went to leave that night, Henry's lawyers summoned me to the jail where Jill was being held. I was told that she wanted to speak with me without Rudy around, and that based on the confirmation we got from her cell pone provider, it gave her enough of an alibi to go home for a night under supervision via ankle bracelet. I didn't think that's how these cop things worked, based on what I'd seen on T.V. but nothing in this strange other reality made sense to me. Her lawyers sat with her to monitor our "off record" conversation. I'm 99% sure I wasn't even allowed to be here, but I went anyway. Something wasn't right, and I was determined to find out exactly what if it killed me. Or made me piss the bed again. //God, I really hope I don't piss the bed again.// I shuddered, wrinkling my nose at the thought. "You asked to see me?" I studied her carefully. She looked terrible. She hadn't slept. Her eyes were puffy from crying all night. She was in mourning, and she was being held accountable for the cause of that mourning. She was a complete wreck. "Yes, you're Rudy's new partner right? I haven't seen you before." She fidgeted with her fingers, unsure of whether or not to trust me. "Yeah. Just assigned yesterday," I assumed. I really didn't know. It wasn't every day I woke up not knowing my head from my a$$, investigating my mother's murder. "You can't trust him. He's dirty. My mom worked as a psychic for him for 25 years. She can... see things other people can't." "–Death before it happens." It wasn't a question. It didn't have to be. I knew. Mom was still mom, even in this life, shady business or not. Jill nodded. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. She helped Rudy solve so many murder cases. Except one." Is that what Henry meant by [[failed cop]]?

Before I get into the details, let’s start with how I got here... //Sigh.// What a nightmare. [[Literally.]]

Once upon a time, Rudy was king sh*t of the P.D. He solved more mysterious crimes than you could imagine. He was decorated to the nines as a detective, until one day, his trust psychic lead him astray... at first. In the end, Moira was right about the case. But Rudy didn't believe her because the evidence was so damning against the first person he arrested. That person was put on death row, the crime was so horrific. After they were executed, the P.D. found out that Rudy had exaggerated the case files to get a verdict because of pressure from his superiors. Rudy's partner quit the force out of shame, admitting that he knew what Rudy did. Rudy refused to quit, but was put on desk duty for a couple years. The investigation was resolved eventually, but Rudy's reputation was done. Jill says he's despised her mother ever since. She thinks he's somehow connected to Moira's murder. The victim of the last case was tortured, then killed executioner style at [[point-blank range]].

"But why would Rudy go through all that trouble, just to frame you?" "Because he knows I know about his affair with my mother. They were on-again, off-again with each other when they worked cases together." "Cops have relationships with informants all the time. That's hardly a good reason." "Moira ran a brothel. I think you know that by now. It attracted lots of cops. I've even seen Chief Danson frequent the place. Moira and Rudy both worked hard to keep all of the officer's names out of the press to avoid a major investigation. The brothel would stay open, as long as nobody blabbed. It was successful for years. Then, when Henry asked me to marry him, I went to tell her. I didn't want the negative press if someone slipped up. Henry's mom would have called the engagement off in a heartbeat. So I went to confront her about it... that's when I caught mom at home with Chief Danson. I told Rudy everything. I thought I could trust him." //I think I'm starting to see the big picture here.// "I didn't say this before because I thought Rudy would take my side... He came to visit me the night of Mom's murder. I was about half-way through a movie, when he came over. Henry wasn't in town. I invited Rudy in. He brought a bottle of wine. He was always like an uncle to me, so I didn't think anything of it at the time. After that, I just remember waking up. Rudy was gone. It was like he was never there. And there was a gun I've never seen before on my nightstand." //Oh shit.// "So you think Rudy slipped you something?" She burried her face in her hands and began to cry again. "I don't know. It's probably too late to tell." She sobbed for a while, then continued. "I think Rudy is pissed off that Danson benched his career and didn't back him after all of his hard work, and he felt betrayed by Mom. He knew what was at stake for me, so I'm the perfect scapegoat." ••• I left that night feeling even more confused than before. Rudy seemed like a pissed off old guy, but nothing about him seemed murderous, or vengeful. And Jill, as I remembered her (as my sister anyway) was hardly a role model. My sister lied notoriously, and could fake cry better than a hollywood actress. There it was again. That feeling in my gut. Unheimlich. The hair on my arms, and the back of my neck stood up. //This sounds awfully convenient. For both of them.// I don't even remember exiting the jail. It blurred together in the conflict of every piece of information I knew, and didn't. Tasked with making a decision on who to trust, and every nerve in my body suddenly on fire, I walked out into the parkinglot and promptly lost my lunch. //Both of them have a lot to lose... [[But who is telling the truth?]]//

Rudy is. There's no way in hell Jill is telling the truth. She has an entire fortune to lose. Rudy's already lost everything. [[Jill is the murderer.]] Jill is. Rudy has nothing to lose by framing her, and everything to gain. He knows too much, and is suspicious of everyone. How convenient that he's the one investigating the murder of his former lover/informant. [[It has to be him.]]

//Are you sure?// [[YES!]] No. Wait. [[It has to be him.]]

//Are you sure?// [[Of course!]] On second thought, no. [[Jill is the murderer.]]

I went to sleep confident that night in my decision of who to trust. I tucked myself in and turned out the lights. ••• //In my dreams, I was in the hospital room again. This time there was no pain. I felt instead as if I was floating. The body in the hospital bed was still there, heart monitor beeping slowly away... Beep... Beep... Beep... Nurses cycled in and out. Not much happened, but I felt like I was suspended in thin air for ever, unmoving. All sounds I could make out sounded like I was hearing them through water. Like I was swimming. Then I heard one say to another, "Still not much hope for this one, huh?" "Poor kid. I'm just glad they got the catheter in this time." "Yeah, I'm tired of them pissing the bed." Pissing the bed? Suddenly I realized I couldn't breathe. Like swimming to drowning. Panic set in. I could feel my chest tighten as my heart sputtered eratically. The nurses reacted to the body in the bed instead. "They're going into shock! Call back up, now!" I fought the urge to breathe. I fought, I fought, I fought. [[And then it was too late.]]//

I didn't wake up screaming this time. I didn't piss the bed. I woke up to a phone call instead at 5AM. It was Rudy. Jill was murdered in her apartment last night. Suffocated in her sleep with a pillow. I dropped the phone and stared blankly at the floor of my bedroom. The uneasy feeling that had haunted me since I woke up here set in again. [[Maybe Jill was telling the truth.]]

[[Accuse Rudy.]] [[Investigate Jill's apartment.]]

[[Confront Rudy.]] [[Go to Jill's apartment.]]

I got ready as fast as I could. I drove myself into the station. My phone lit up along the way with a call from Rudy. My stomach jumped into my throat at the sight of his name on my call display. I floored the pedal. I don't even remember where I parked. Rage, adrenaline, and fear drove me. My head throbbed with excrutiating pain with every heart beat. I was sweating, and nervous. And then I remembered something. // "Mom, what's it like? Y'know. When you see it?" "The end?" She smiled, as if to make it less scary. "Uhuh," I nodded and my sister and I cuddled close to her. She put her arms around us as she answered. Well, my hands get a little clammy, and sometimes I start to sweat a little bit. And I get this funny feeling in my tummy that tells me something is coming. And then, I see it. It's not the same for everyone, but I believe when it's somebody's time, they see it too.// And then I saw it. I saw Death. Staring back at me behind the desk of Danson's office, door ajar. The station was dark, only the early morning light penetrating through the blinds. It was normally empty, but even today the tension in the air was thicker than it usually was. Unheimlich. Again. Every nerve ending in my body felt like it was being shocked over and over again. [["She told you everything, did she?"]]

I got ready as fast as I could. I drove myself to the address I got. My phone lit up along the way with a call from Rudy. My stomach jumped into my throat at the sight of his name on my call display. I floored the pedal. I don't even remember where I parked. Rage, adrenaline, and fear drove me. My head throbbed with excrutiating pain with every heart beat. I was sweating, and nervous. And then I remembered something. // "Mom, what's it like? Y'know. When you see it?" "The end?" She smiled, as if to make it less scary. "Uhuh," I nodded and my sister and I cuddled close to her. She put her arms around us as she answered. Well, my hands get a little clammy, and sometimes I start to sweat a little bit. And I get this funny feeling in my tummy that tells me something is coming. And then, I see it. It's not the same for everyone, but I believe when it's somebody's time, they see it too.// No police were there yet. But the door was open. I opened it cautiously. And then I saw it. I saw Death. Staring back at me as it stood in the living room of Jill's. The apartment was dark, only the early morning light penetrating through the blinds. The tension in the air was thicker than it usually was. Unheimlich. Again. Every nerve ending in my body felt like it was being shocked over and over again. [["About time you got here."]]

I got ready as fast as I could. I drove myself to the address I got. My phone lit up along the way with a call from Rudy. My stomach jumped into my throat at the sight of his name on my call display. I floored the pedal. I don't even remember where I parked. Rage, adrenaline, and fear drove me. My head throbbed with excrutiating pain with every heart beat. I got ready as fast as I could. I drove myself to the address I got. My phone lit up along the way with a call from Rudy. My stomach jumped into my throat at the sight of his name on my call display. I floored the pedal. I don't even remember where I parked. Rage, adrenaline, and fear drove me. My head throbbed with excrutiating pain with every heart beat. I was sweating, and nervous. And then I remembered something. // "Mom, what's it like? Y'know. When you see it?" "The end?" She smiled, as if to make it less scary. "Uhuh," I nodded and my sister and I cuddled close to her. She put her arms around us as she answered. Well, my hands get a little clammy, and sometimes I start to sweat a little bit. And I get this funny feeling in my tummy that tells me something is coming. And then, I see it. It's not the same for everyone, but I believe when it's somebody's time, they see it too.// No police were there yet. But the door was open. I opened it cautiously. And then I saw it. I saw Death. Staring back at me as it stood in the living room of Jill's. The apartment was dark, only the early morning light penetrating through the blinds. The tension in the air was thicker than it usually was. Unheimlich. Again. Every nerve ending in my body felt like it was being shocked over and over again. [["There you are."]]

"Told me what, Rudy?" "You know. Everything." We were both locked in a death stare, neither of us relenting. The Chief's desk was a disaster. He had been rifling through it for some time before I got there. Then something catches my attention. There was a security tape on an old tube TV with a built-in VCR playing on the screen. It was a man chasing a woman in a parking lot. I can't hear it but she screams. It's obvious. She falls. The man seizes the opportunity to pick her up by her hair and force her to her knees. She isn't facing the camera any more. The suspect take a gun out of his holster and shoots her at point-blank range in the back of her head. The victim falls lifeless to the ground. He shakes his hand violently in the video, his other hand burned from the discharging firearm too close to his fingers. The suspect turns around just enough so the camera catches a glimpse of his face. It's Rudy. He aims his gun at the camera, and shoots the lens. The video pauses, then restarts from the beginning. I snarl. He smiles. "It took me too damn long to get my hands on this video. Nice for someone else to appreciate my handy work. Too bad it's gonna cost ya." He pulls out his gun, and fires at me. I duck behind the wall, and pull my own gun form my holster. I was hoping I'd never actually have to use it. I didn't even know how. The gun was loaded, and the safety was off. I looked around the corner and shot quickly. He returned fire. Back and forth it went. //BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.// A bullet penerated the wall above my head. It scared the daylights out of me. I peeked through the tiny hole and saw that he was crouched behind the desk, poking his head out from the left side. He fired once more, then stopped. His ammo ran dry, I hoped. I peeked around the corner and shot at the desk. He ducked back. I fired once more. And again. "Alright", he surrendered. "You got me." He raised his hands up from behind the desk as he stood slowly. I aimed my gun right at him. We were so close, I was confdent I could land a shot if I needed to. I wasn't confident I had enough bullets to get away fast enough to not get killed. "I give up. You saw the video. I did it. I killed Moira." "Why!?" I screamed. I didn't realize how angry I was until the words left my mouth. "Because she f*^ked me. Me, and my career, all in one go." "That doesn't explain why you framed her daughter!" I spat like a mad dog, adrenaline screaming through my veins. My ears were ringing. "Collateral damage. Someone had to take the fall. Like hell, I'd let it be me." I quaked with rage. I'd had enough. I remembered Jill's weeping face. I remembered Moira's look of terror as Rudy chased her to her death. [[That's when I pulled the trigger.]]

"I could ask you the same question," I balked. I glanced around the room. The Chief's desk was a disaster. He had been rifling through it for some time before I got there. There was a security tape on an old tube TV with a built-in VCR playing on the screen. It was a man chasing a woman in a parking lot. I can't hear it but she screams. It's obvious. She falls. The man seizes the opportunity to pick her up by her hair and force her to her knees. She isn't facing the camera any more. The suspect take a gun out of his holster and shoots her at point-blank range in the back of her head. The victim falls lifeless to the ground. He shakes his hand violently in the video, his other hand burned from the discharging firearm too close to his fingers. The suspect turns around just enough so the camera catches a glimpse of his face. It's Rudy. He aims his gun at the camera, and shoots the lens. The video pauses, then restarts from the beginning. I snarl. He smiles. "It took me too damn long to get my hands on this video. Nice for someone else to appreciate my handy work. Too bad it's gonna cost ya." He pulls out his gun, and fires at me. I duck behind the wall, and pull my own gun form my holster. I was hoping I'd never actually have to use it. I didn't even know how. The gun was loaded, and the safety was off. I looked around the corner and shot quickly. He returned fire. Back and forth it went. //BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.// A bullet penerated the wall above my head. It scared the daylights out of me. I peeked through the tiny hole and saw that he was crouched behind the desk, poking his head out from the left side. He fired once more, then stopped. His ammo ran dry, I hoped. I peeked around the corner and shot at the desk. He ducked back. I fired once more. And again. "Alright", he surrendered. "You got me." He raised his hands up from behind the desk as he stood slowly. I aimed my gun right at him. We were so close, I was confdent I could land a shot if I needed to. I wasn't confident I had enough bullets to get away fast enough to not get killed. "I give up. You saw the video. I did it. I killed Moira." "Why!?" I screamed. I didn't realize how angry I was until the words left my mouth. "Because she f*^ked me. Me, and my career, all in one go." "That doesn't explain why you framed her daughter!" I spat like a mad dog, adrenaline screaming through my veins. My ears were ringing. "Collateral damage. Someone had to take the fall. Like hell, I'd let it be me." I quaked with rage. I'd had enough. I remembered Jill's weeping face. I remembered Moira's look of terror as Rudy chased her to her death. [[Then, I pulled the trigger.]]

Thunder and lightening. Once. Twice. That's what it sounded like. And fire and blood. That's what it smelt like. And burning and agony. That's what it felt like. Two bullet holes burried themselves into my chest as Rudy discharged his gun. "She told you everything, and now you have to pay for her mistakes." I struggled to breathe, as the air was choked from my lungs. "Why?" I mustered, choking on my own blood. A lung had collapsed. I was dying. //For real this time.// "Sorry kid. It's just business," the words were casually cruel. He was wearing gloves. And before my totally vision faded, he took his own firearm and stuck it in my barehands. He pointed it as his shoulder. "Now be a pal, and play along." He pushed my finger down on the trigger. //BANG.// I was the second scapegoat. Jill was right. As I realized his plan, [[the world fell dark.]]

I died in one world, and woke up in another. But when I woke up, I didn't realize I'd be here. All of those dreams made sense to me now. The horror. The agony. All of it felt so real. That's because it was. I woke up, sitting in a hospital chair. My legs were asleep, and it felt like I had been sitting forever. "Sweetie, is that you?" I shot up out of my chair and looked to my right. "Mom! Oh thank goodness!" Overjoyed and overcome with emotion, I went to hug her, but I couldn't move. The panic spread over me when tears rolled down her face. My sister was passed out in a chair in the corner, a blanket draped over her. Safe, sound, alive. She nodded, as if accepting something I wasn't aware of. I looked to my left. The body from my dreams lay there. The face, mangled and broken, limbs wrapped, bandages bloody. Life support. "Oh, sh*t," the words fell out from trembling lips. "I'm so sorry, honey. I tried to call you before..." Mom was hard pressed to finish her sentence, the words too painful for her to express. On the night before I woke up in another reality, I was on my way to work. The rain was pouring down in sheets. A pick-up truck made an illegal left turn, and smashed into the driver's side of my car. Since then, I've been comatose, and paralyzed from the waist down. The memories flooded back. But even after all I had been through, I was relieved to see them. "I know you did. I'm sorry." I felt like I was getting further and futher away now, like I was being carried away by the receeding tide of life. "I'm glad you're both safe. I love you." My mother smiled through her tears for me. It was the last thing I saw. ••• //A mother watches her child's soul depart from the living. The hospital room feels just a little bit more empty, just like her breaking heart. The body in the bed is attached to a heart monitor, which flatlines suddenly. The long beep wakes up her daughter in the corner, who panics and rushes to call a nurse. The nurses rush in. The daughter looks with terrified eyes at her mother. The mother shakes her head, and the daughter begins to cry. ••• START AGAIN FROM [[ALL–SEEING EYE... (PROLOGUE)]]

Rudy dropped to his knees, clutching at the gaping wound in his chest. Blood blossomed like a cursed flower through his suit jacket. I kept the gun pointed at him, but he smiled defiantly, blood gurgling out from his mouth. "She just didn't realize one thing. One big boo-boo that you had no f*^kin' idea about." His yellow toothed sneer disturbed me. "And what was that?" I dared to ask. Suddenly, I felt that was someone behind me. I hadn't noticed in the scuffle. "Me." The voice was familiar, authoritative, but menacing. For the first time I really wished I had been a detective in my real life to have figured it all out. //BANG.// //Henry.// My knees buckled as the feeling left my legs. I landed flat on my face. He shot my right in the spine, paralyzing my lower body. The mix of numbness and pain was agnoizing and I screamed. "Why!?" I was flabber ghasted. I remembered my sister's face as I gazed at her boyfriend's look alike. Memories, vacations, pictures. I saw everything I could remember about the two of them flash before my eyes. "She loved you." I gritted my teeth. I knew nothing about this man and his dead fiancée, but it didn't matter. "But she knew my secret. And I paid a lot of money to keep it hidden, but Jill was just a little too nosey for her own good." "What are you talking about?" I'm not sure how the words left my mouth. The pain of dying, and the feeling of losing all of the blood in my body was all I could focus on. A coldness creeped through my body as he spoke. "I embezzled money from my father's company, and I saw to it that no one ever suspected me. And that psychic freak mother of hers told her to dig around in my old bank books. She threatened to go to the Feds if I didn't give back the money. That's when I had good old uncle Rudy take care of them both. Jill just trusted him so much, until he made her the prime suspect in her own mother's murder. I didn't even have to pay him. Revenge on Moira was enough. Too bad he couldn't get Danson out of my way." Satisfied with himself, he tucked his gun back into his suit, and strutted out of the office. It all made sense now. But now I was about to die. Everything I thought was wrong. I regretted pretending to be a cop. I didn't know how far in over my head I was. And my mother was right. Bad spirits do rub off on you. They might even make you wind up face down in your own blood, paralyzed from the waist down, and dying. Or maybe it made jilted ex-lovers come after you in the night, or send the people you trusted out to smother you in your sleep. I felt helpless. I felt pathetic. I gazed at the cold hard floor as my life flashed before my eyes. Then everything went black for the last time. ••• Two dead bodies. Two pools of blood. When Chief Danson walked in, at 8AM he was shaken by what he saw. On his desk, a security video of Rudy played over, and over, and over again on an old tube TV with a built-in VCR. He picks Moira Kennedy up by the hair, and at point-blank range, shoots her in the back of the head. His partner, lying dead on the floor by the door, witnesses the ordeal and shoots the murderer, who returns fire, Danson suspects. The light in their eyes was long gone. Danson shakes his head. [[What a shame.]]

Darkness. Nothing good ever started out that way. I woke up with a pounding headache, in a daze. The alarm clock on my bedside table was screaming, reading 8 AM. My cell phone was lighting up with a racket, vibrating so furiously, it threatened to buzz right off the edge and on to the floor. There was a faint pounding on the door. And someone yelling. They sounded an awful lot like Rudy, my boss from the bar. //Oh, you've gotta be f*^king kidding me.// Even Death can be a bitch sometimes, even if you're only dead for 3 Days. ••• START AGAIN FROM [[ALL–SEEING EYE... (PROLOGUE)]]

Rudy dropped to his knees, clutching at the gaping found in his chest. Blood blossomed like a cursed flower through his suit jacket. I kept the gun pointed at him, but he smiled defiantly, blood gurgling out from his mouth. "You just didn't realize one thing. One big boo-boo that you had no f*^kin' idea about. I guess she didn't tell you everything, did she? What a doll." His yellow toothed sneer disturbed me. "And what was that?" I dared to ask. Suddenly, I felt that was someone behind me. I hadn't noticed in the scuffle. "Me." The voice was familiar, authoritative, but menacing. For the first time I really wished I had been a detective in my real life to have figured it all out. //BANG.// //Henry.// My knees buckled as the feeling left my legs. I landed flat on my face. He shot my right in the spine, paralyzing my lower body. The mix of numbness and pain was agnoizing and I screamed. "Why!?" I was flabber ghasted. I remembered my sister's face as I gazed at her boyfriend's look alike. Memories, vacations, pictures. I saw everything I could remember about the two of them flash before my eyes. "She loved you." I gritted my teeth. I knew nothing about this man and his dead fiancée, but it didn't matter. "But she knew my secret. And I paid a lot of money to keep it hidden, but Jill was just a little too nosey for her own good." "What are you talking about?" I'm not sure how the words left my mouth. The pain of dying, and the feeling of losing all of the blood in my body was all I could focus on. A coldness creeped through my body as he spoke. "I embezzled money from my father's company, and I saw to it that no one ever suspected me. And that psychic freak mother of hers told her to dig around in my old bank books. She threatened to go to the Feds if I didn't give back the money. That's when I had good old uncle Rudy take care of them both. Jill just trusted him so much, until he made her the prime suspect in her own mother's murder. I didn't even have to pay him. Revenge on Moira was enough. Too bad he couldn't get Danson out of my way." Satisfied with himself, he tucked his gun back into his suit, and strutted out of the office. It all made sense now. But now I was about to die. Everything I thought was wrong. I regretted pretending to be a cop. I didn't know how far in over my head I was. And my mother was right. Bad spirits do rub off on you. They might even make you wind up face down in your own blood, paralyzed from the waist down, and dying. Or maybe it made jilted ex-lovers come after you in the night, or send the people you trusted out to smother you in your sleep. I felt helpless. I felt pathetic. I gazed at the cold hard floor as my life flashed before my eyes. Then everything went black for the last time. ••• Two dead bodies. Two pools of blood. When Chief Danson walked in, at 8AM he was shaken by what he saw. On his desk, a security video of Rudy played over, and over, and over again on an old tube TV with a built-in VCR. He picks Moira Kennedy up by the hair, and at point-blank range, shoots her in the back of the head. His partner, lying dead on the floor by the door, witnesses the ordeal and shoots the murderer, who returns fire, Danson suspects. As far as he's concerned, [[this case is closed]].

Until I woke up in my apartment with a jump. I jumped out of bed and washed my face with cold water. //What the hell?// The water felt icy against my skin. I dried off, and rushed to grab my phone. The date was the same as it was before I went to that strange other world. The forecast called for heavy thunder storms. It was 6:45am. I ripped open my closet door. No cop uniforms. I ran out to the living room. No holster, no gun. No note pad. No badge. Joy and disbelief collided all at once in my body. I actually cried. I got ready for work with the biggest smile on my face. The nightmare was over. It was the best day of my life. ••• The sky was dark and grey, the last light of a November evening suffocating behind a mass of angry rain clouds. Mom called me right before I was supposed to leave for the club, just like last time. This time I wasn't running late. I answered it. We talked. She sounded worried, but I told her my decision to quit the club, and she told me how relieved she felt. I called earlier to give my resignation, effective immediately. I'd seen enough of Rudy, in this life and others, to last forever. I didn't want to do it again. The storm outside was calming. I was happy I never had to face that man again. I was also glad that my sister's boyfriend wasn't the jackass I'd recently encountered. I looked forward to getting back to my normal life. I gazed out the window with my new-found appreciate for life. Then lightning crashed through my [[window]].

Double-click this passage to edit it.