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“Wrong number.”

And just like that, the line went dead.

Looking at my phone, I dialed again, knowing damn well my sister would never give me a wrong number. She wasn’t like that. If anything, she was over-protective and ensured that I would be able to reach her no matter what if I ever needed her.

“I said you had the wrong number.”

“I’m looking for my sister.”

“Then go find her.”

The line went dead again.

What. The. Fuck!

We’re all people from Chicago that fucking rude!

I didn’t have time to call the asshat back. Grabbing my bag, I spotted a window across from me. It was now or never. Getting up, I headed to the window, unlocked it and climbed out of the room, trying not to destroy anything. As I stood once again outside in the sweltering heat, I headed for home as fast as I could.

Sweat be damned.

It was close to ten in the evening when I rounded the corner of my apartment building to find several police vehicles and two ambulances blocking the road. I didn’t know what was going on but when I saw movement in my bedroom window, I rushed towards the commotion only to be stopped by a police officer.

“I’m sorry Miss. I can’t let you pass.”

“I live here,” I started pointing at the building. “That’s my apartment building.”

“Hang on,” the young police officer said before he turned and yelled, “Someone, go get Detective Howard. I’ve got another tenant.”

A few minutes later, a tall skinny man approached. Though he looked more like a praying mantis than an actual human, I cringed when he smiled. Nope, I wasn’t going to say it but seriously didn’t he own a toothbrush.

“Your name?” the Praying Mantis asked.

“Donnie Stevens, I live in apartment 204.”

“Do you have a roommate named Carolyn Marie Carter?”

“Yes. Is she okay?”

“Come with me, please.”

The young police officer lifted the plastic tape, allowing me to duck under it. Following the Preying Mantis, I said nothing as I watched officers, medics and a slew of other people hurry about. But when I saw paramedics walk out pushing two gurneys with body bags on them, I froze.

“Ms. Stevens?”

“Where is Carrie?” I asked, my eyes never leaving the gurneys as the paramedics carefully put them both into a waiting ambulance.

“Where were you tonight?”

“Library. Where is Carrie?”

“How long were you there?”

“Where is Carrie?”

“Ms. Stevens, I am sorry to have to tell you this but your roommate and her boyfriend were killed tonight. Do you know of anyone who would want them dead?”

“Boyfriend?” I whispered, turning to the Preying Mantis. “Carrie didn’t have a boyfriend.”


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Crime