I Landed My Dream Job, Then I Killed Myself

Bill said nothing.

His eyes had stopped on the last line.

The strokes there were heavier than anything above them.

As if she'd written it over and over.

*There's one more person.*

*After I graduate.*

*I have to go see him.*

*I have to.*

After that, not a single word.

And turning back a few pages, several entries had been torn clean out.

Martha stared for a moment.

"Who is this 'him,' anyway?"

No one answered.

Who was this "him"?

Even I had forgotten.

And just then—a shrill ring.

A phone had started to ring.

Everyone turned at once.

The sound came from the desk drawer.

Gloved, Martha eased the drawer open.

A white phone lay inside.

Its screen flashed on and off.

"Whose phone is this?"

Bill asked my mother, but she only shook her head.

"I don't know. I've never seen this phone before."

The ringing stopped, and the lock screen showed itself.

A bottle of whiskey.

Then the phone rang again.

Bill's head snapped toward Martha.

"Answer it."

The second she pressed the button.

A young man's voice came through from the other end.

"Elaine?"

The whole room went quiet in an instant.

Bill shot my mother a look.

She took the phone at once.

"This is Elaine's mother. Who is this, please?"

Two seconds of silence on the line.

Then a click, and the call went dead.

Bill's expression darkened.

"Run that number now, get the account holder notified, and get them down to the station to cooperate. Immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Martha turned and hurried out.

Bill looked back at my mother.

"This person—do you know him?"

She shook her head.

He didn't press her. He turned and walked out of the apartment.

Beyond the tape, a crowd of gawkers had already gathered.

Other detectives were working the building, door to door.

As Bill passed, he happened to catch an older woman out walking her dog.

"Is it the daughter of that high-school-teacher couple who died?"

"A few nights ago, I think I saw Elaine arguing with some man."

Bill stopped in his tracks.

"When was this?"

"Around eleven at night, right downstairs."

"Tall fellow, about five-nine, wore glasses."

"Elaine was always such a quiet girl, but that night she up and slapped him across the face. Gave me a real fright."

Just then, the tech unit sent over the ID tied to the phone number.

The man in the photo was young and handsome, glasses on his face.

Bill held the phone out.

"Is this him?"

The woman peered at it for a few seconds, then shook her head.

"Too dark that night. Couldn't make out his face."

Bill pocketed the phone.

A full round of the building turned up nothing else worth having.

Back at the station, Martha came to meet him.

"Captain, the guy who was in contact with Elaine is here."

"Also, we've finished statements from everyone at the celebration dinner. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Elaine's parents are getting ready to head back too."

Bill nodded.

Crossing the lobby, he saw my father and mother sitting side by side on the long bench.

My father's head was bowed. Overnight he'd aged ten years.

The neighbor couple sat beside them, pressing tissues into their hands, murmuring comfort.

When they saw Bill go by, the two of them even gave him a nod.

Bill didn't stop. He walked straight into the interview room, where a young man was already seated.