The apple never falls far from the tree

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A former detective is asked to take on a murder case and to find the body of the victim. She soon finds herself tangled in family drama, broken trusts and lost promises. Will she find the killer or will it be too late?

Mystery / Thriller
Age Rating:


5 years ago, …

For once I am glad it was Eddie who first found the body the minute the police arrived, he took the lead in this case. Someone called 911 from this address saying there was a body of a woman here, we tried tracing the call but it was a dead end. One of the officers broke down the door and we hurried inside. I held my flashlight high in the air and my gun aimed ready to fire at any minute. The kitchen was a mess. There was dog shit everywhere; no one bothered to clean it up and the worst part, there was no dog in sight. The air was misty like this house was built on top of the clouds. There were bottles and unlit cigarettes everywhere. The mother or whoever was in charge of cooking never bothered to do so. There were takeout packages piled on top of each other, some so tall they looked like they would fall at any second. There was something else. Some kind of smell.

“Someone is dead,” Eddie whispered, breaking the silence.

I swallowed my bravery. Being able to recognize the stench of death comes with being a detective. You see plenty of dead bodies to know what they look like and get too close to know how they smell. Eddie signaled a few of the officers to search the left side of the house. He signaled the others to search the right side of the house.

“You come with me.”

I nodded.

When I first started, I loved going into these places expecting to find something. They always fascinated me. The crime, the bodies, and whatever else was yet to come. I loved it. It wasn’t the bodies that fascinated me; it was finding whoever was responsible like a treasure hunt. But I am still in the police force, I wanted out. Now don’t get me wrong, I love being a detective. Justice always has to be served. I won’t be leaving for good, just for a while to pull myself together.

It’s just that, over time those bodies and all that blood affect a person, mentally. I started getting dreams about the victims of these crimes. They would torment my dreams, talk to me, telling me that justice would never be served. It got worst. I would see them when I was conscious, I would pinch myself just to prove I was awake. It was terrifying.

This morning when I got up, I knew deep down in my gut I was going to quit. I told Eddie first because well, I tell him everything. Eddie told me it was fine I could leave any time I wanted to. However, I didn’t. I wanted one last case before I leave and I decided on this one probably because the anonymous phone call arrived this afternoon.

I followed Eddie upstairs. We were facing a long narrow hallway, with one room on its right and one at the end of the hall. I opened the door on the right side of the hall and let Eddie take the one at the end of the hall. There was toilet paper all over the ground. The toilet looked like it hasn’t been cleaned in ages. There were three wet towels in the bathtub. No body yet. There was a simple purple toothbrush on the sink along with toothpaste that had no paste left in it as the owner had already squeezed it all out.

“Oh, my Lord,” I heard Eddie say just as I heard the door open in the other room.

I walked out of the bathroom and followed the walls down the hallway. Eddie was standing among the doorway. He moved aside and let me have a look. I felt my lunch come back into my mouth. This was… who would do this?! There was blood everywhere. I mean everywhere. The walls had patches of white which were the color of the wall but you couldn’t tell because someone had painted over it with blood. The ground, the desk, the drawer everything was blood. Dried blood.

“How long has this been here?”

“Long time. Guessing a few days.” Eddie whispered.

The window was open which let out the fresh city breeze which we don’t get often. It was lovely if it weren’t for the situation, we were in. I looked at the big 2-person bed. There she was. A beautiful blond girl, I would say around 20-25 years old, laying there on her stomach. Her cold dead eyes looked back at me as I looked closer.

“She has been stabbed. At least 10 times. Some of them are so deep they would have killed her instantly.” Eddie examined the body.

He used to work at the morgue before he became a detective.

I sighed. Here I was looking over the body of a girl. A girl that would have had a very bright future ahead of her. Yet, it was taken from her. Why would anyone do this? Do they find pleasure in taking people’s lives? The one life we will ever get. They take it. That’s why I loved being a detective, because I can find whoever did this and punish them. The sheets used to be pearl white but now it’s covered with blood along with the ground, we had to be careful not to step in any. She was laid on her stomach which means the killer likely killed her while she was trying to take a nap; her eyes were open which showed she was wake when she died. There is no way a murder would be that messy. This was on purpose, someone is sending a message, but to who? Somebody needs to have a room reserved for them at a mental hospital.

“I will call in the team” I nodded.

Minutes later cops were storming in examining the body, taking pictures and notes, bagging evidence, and looking for anything that seemed wrong which was everything. I went back to her body. Her eyes stared back at me.

‘Life was unfair’ it said. ‘I died. I died in pain’.


5 years later and we never found who did this to the girl that goes by the name Jessica Arnold. I never took on a single case, all I did was focus on this very case. But I never found it. I never found the person I was looking for. I even refused to depart. I had to find out who did it. There was a funeral held for her of course. Less than 50 people showed up. A few family members, a few high school friends, and a lot of news reporters.

We gave her a proper burial. May she rest in peace.

It was driving me crazy. I would barely sleep or eat. I was determined to find answers. Nothing. She was a much liked in school, she didn’t have a single person that had a grudge against her, she was the role model younger students looked up to. Every lead I got would come back empty. There would be times where I wouldn’t even go home because I was too busy searching in files. No other case got me worked up like this. I think this was where I crossed the line.

So, Eddie fired me.

“WHAT? WHY? Why am I fired?” My voice roared across the office.

“Because detective, you are losing control. I can’t have someone with emotional issues dealing with this case.” Eddie said, gently. When he asked me into his office, I was expecting anything but nothing like this. I know I got worked up over this case but I couldn’t just let one go by.

“Detective, even the family asked you to stop searching but you didn’t. I asked you to stop, but you didn’t. I am sorry it has to come to this but you are fired.”

I sighed. “Eddie you and I go back 15 years of friendship. You know how much this job means to me. You even stopped calling me Lyla and would continue calling me detective.” I was trying every way I know how to make sure I assure him that I needed to stay.

“I know Lyla I know and I am sorry.” He took a deep breath. “But if you continue like this you won’t get anywhere. I am closing this case. We have been after it for more than 5 years with nothing.” Eddie looked down at his lap like an ashamed toddler. As much as I hate to admit it, he is right. I have taken it far and it honestly wasn’t healthy or getting me anywhere.

“Ok thanks, Eddie. I’ll go get my stuff.” I looked him in the eye. He didn’t want to do this but I left him no choice. I took this detective thing way too far. I got up to leave.

“Lyla?”I turned around. “I never wanted this but I had-…”

“I know.” I sighed.

Those were the last words I ever spoke with Eddie. Not one letter or an email went between us. We never found the murderer, but that was not my worry anymore.

I was fired from being a detective.

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