Con-family-flicted

'And so this is where the "ex theory" comes into play?' James asked.

The inspector licked his lips as he nodded slowly from the window. 'All we have to do now is round up all the exes of the victims. We need to move, James. We need to start moving without further delay. There's never been a murder in Malrich and when we solve this case…' he clapped his hands loudly, 'we'd be proving to the outside world that the Malrich Police Department can handle murder too. And since the mayor gave us Foyer's case to solve as well, we'd put the WindleDrive Police Department to shame.'

James replied, 'But, sir, if we are to pursue this case we shouldn't forget what the coroner said; that these murders were professional. Whoever this person is, they managed to accurately sever the joints of the victims at unbelievably accurate and identically specific points…twice!'

'Professional my foot!' the inspector growled, waving a dismissive hand. 'Didn't you smell the coroner's breath? He was as drunk as a skunk!'

'And besides that, sir, these exes; where would we find them?'

'We already know one, James. We interviewed her before, so we'll start there.'

The Sherman's were having supper and it was awfully quiet. The parents dug away at their macaroni and cheese whilst Clarissa just sat there, poking her food repeatedly.

Mrs. Sherman was elated though that for the second time in a long time, her husband was early for supper. She looked across the table at her daughter. 'Is everything alright, Claire?' she asked her. 'I thought you loved mac and cheese?'

She gave a weak shrug, staring aimlessly at the table. 'It could use some salt,' she mumbled.

Her mother grabbed the saltshaker from beside her husband and placed it in front of Clarissa.

Mr. Sherman didn't seem to notice. He was still enjoying the process of utterly destroying his meal.

Clarissa jabbed the top of the saltshaker above her food for about ten straight seconds. She put it down. She began poking her food again.

Her mother sighed heavily. 'Claire, dear…'

Clarissa mumbled again, 'Maybe a little more sauce.'

Mrs. Sherman wiped her mouth. 'Okay, that's it,' she placed her fork on the table, 'Talk to me, Claire. What's wrong?'

She made another weak shrug. 'What are you talking about, mom? I'm fine.'

'Well, you don't look fine to me…Ivine, does she look fine to you?'

Mr. Sherman's eyes were still loyal to his meal. 'Yes, yes, dear, it's great,' he answered subconsciously.

She shook his hand vigorously, annoyed. 'Are you even listening?'

He was startled. 'Yes, yes, what is it? What's wrong?' he asked, his eyes alarmed.

'Your daughter needs you,' said Mrs. Sherman.

He turned his eyes to Clarissa. 'She looks fine to me.'

'Ivine!'

He sighed in defeat. 'Talk to us, Claire. What's eating you?'

Clarissa slapped the table, 'Can't I just…have my supper in peace?!'

Her mother said, 'Claire, you're not even having it, you're just stabbing it like it owes you money. I'm your mother. I've known you for eighteen years, and that's your whole life, Claire, your whole life!'

'Your point?' she muttered, stabbing her food again.

'I know when something's up with you. I know when you're upset, when you're happy and when you're hiding something from me.'

She turned a lazy eye on her mother. Her attacks on the food had been brought to a standstill. 'You know me so well, mother, don't you? So, please; tell me what's bothering me.'

She sighed sharply then turned a lightning-quick glance at her husband then brought it back to her daughter. 'I talked to Mrs. Lancaster today…'

Clarissa groaned, 'Really, mom? Now you're discussing me with the neighbors? Mom; Mrs. Lancaster is a gossiping hag. The entire neighborhood knows that.'

'Don't speak about your elders like that, Claire,' her father said.

'I'm sorry, dad, it's just that I don't like it when other people start involving themselves in my affairs.' She pouted and began poking her macaroni and cheese even harder now.

Her mother said, 'Clarissa, Clarissa, you're eighteen. You have no affairs. Mrs. Lancaster said she saw you at the park yesterday around four in the afternoon.'

Clarissa reduced her speed. 'What did she see?'

'Everything. She says she saw you with that Murphy boy. Go on, deny it. '

She became silent. 'And…what else did she say she saw?'

'Just you and the boy walking for an hour or two…or three.'

Clarissa placed her fork lightly onto the table. She looked into her mother's eyes. 'And what else did she see?'

Her mother stared back at her. 'That's all she saw. Unless there's something else your father and I ought to know?' She gave her daughter a suspicious look.

'No, no, of course not,' she shook her head immediately.

'I cannot believe you, Claire!' Mrs. Sherman wrung her hands. 'I honestly can't believe that after I…after your father and I solemnly warned you not to go near him again! What do you have to say for yourself?'

'That Mrs. Lancaster needs a hobby,' she muttered, returning to murdering her macaroni and cheese.

'This isn't a joke, Claire!' her mother snapped. 'Your disobedience shall not go unpunished.' She looked to her husband for backup.

Mr. Sherman glanced at his daughter, then his wife. His mind was a whirlwind. Finally, he said, 'Grounded…one week. No TV, no parties, no cellphone, no telephone, no parties- just school, home and homework.'

'No, Ivine. Two weeks! She has to understand how serious we are about this.'

Clarissa shrugged carelessly. 'Cool.'

Her mother's eyes were wide open. She gave a long and shocked look at her husband. He looked almost as amazed as her. She returned it to her daughter. 'What?' It was clear they had not been expecting this kind of reaction.

Clarissa said, 'I said cool, mom. Whatever you say.'

Mrs. Sherman opened her mouth to say something. She was not sure what so she closed it. She decided she was not going to lose. 'Okay, then…let's make it three weeks since you seem not to understand how serious we are.'

Clarissa dropped her fork instantly. 'Mom; I honestly couldn't care less. You could ground me for a year or even throw me in a dungeon. No TV? When was the last time I actually watched it? No cellphone? Who would I call? No parties?!' She laughed, 'What friends? Mom, dad- the only friend I had is the one you're telling me is bad for my health and he no longer wants to have anything to do with me.'

Her mother, 'Clarissa, I…'

She stood up, pushing the chair back far into the wall just beside the fridge. The floor screeched in misery. 'Excuse me,' she said heading for the stairs, 'I have to go fulfill some of the terms of my prison sentence.'

The Murphys had just finished having their supper. Sineas had decided to help his aunt with the dishes for once. She washed, he dried.

Aunt Janice caught a glimpse of Sineas' face. 'Sineas, my boy, what's wrong?'

'Nothing, Aunt Janice. I'm good.' He tried to force a smile. He was unsuccessful.

Aunt Janice placed the next plate back in the sink and looked at him. She said, 'Come on, Sin, tell me. Is it about us not visiting your mother? Because I think it's a good thing we didn't go because…'

'No, it's not about that,' said Sineas, placing his hands at the edge of the sink. He was staring aimlessly at the wall.

'Clarissa, then?'

He was silent.

'My boy, life is full of things we can never come to understand no matter how hard we try. One of those things is reality.'

'I just don't understand how someone could do something like that to another human being.'

'Don't worry, my boy. I promise, you will find someone who will love you genuinely despite your past and your present.'

He shook his head again. 'You can't trust anyone these days no matter how close they try to make you believe they are to you. Sometimes you just have to stay sharp.'

'Exactly, Sin. People are depraved…very depraved.'

Sineas said, 'You can spend your whole life learning the wrong syllabus and you just sit there…learning…ignorantly.'

Aunt Janice now looked confounded. 'Are we talking about Clarissa?' she asked him.

He smiled. 'Of course we are, Aunt Janice. Of course we are.'