Chapter 2
Higgens's shift ended late, so he lay on the police station's makeshift office bed. His body was thoroughly exhausted and needed a rest. Not five seconds before drifting off, his cell rang. Not again. What was it this time? He thought to himself, assuming it to be work-related. A voice, however- one with far more melodious tone-later blew through the other.
"Are you coming home tonight?" the girl asked. There is something to be said for the warm timbre of a voice, particularly when the day has been "one of those." Higgens smiled to himself as he listened.
"Darling, didn't your mother just let you use her phone again?" he asked, making her laugh. "I thought so," he said. "It's late; you should be in bed now." He heard a tinge of disappointment in her voice.
"But I miss you. Baby misses you. And, and, there's a 'monster' in my bed, that's why I called you,"she explained, making Higgens laugh. "My sweet Molly. What did Uncle tell you about the 'monster' in your bed?" He questioned. Molly said it was a girl who wanted them to play by the lake. "Sweetheart, you should be sleeping. I promise, I'll be home tomorrow. I promise!" he assured her, although he knew the work load would be such that he may not be able to keep that promise.
"Pinky promise?" Molly pressed. "You can't break a pinky promise, okay? Or Molly will be angry with you," she threatened. Higgens couldn't take his eyes off her to resist. "Fine, fine. You win. Pinky promise. Okay. Uncle is going to bed and so are you little lady," he decreed. Molly nodded and said goodnight. And Higgens fell asleep on the spot.
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His slumber was unceremoniously rudely awakened early the following morning to relocate to Atticus University. The school was hosting a memorial for three girls who had died. Tara, an cheerleader, Tamara a stateside debater, and Sandy, whose parents sat weeping in one row. With the arrival of students and parents at the already packed gym, all in black shirts with the hashtag '#JusticeoftheThreeAngels, the whole scenario became sadder and more serious. At 8:30 am, the program commenced with some intercession prayers for the dead souls and a candle-lighting ceremony to be observed in their name as the people cried with wails and moaning sounds. The school principal addressed the gathering after this emotionally charged opening.
"It's been a terrible week for us, Atticus," the principal started. "Our angels are now in God's embrace, and we really feel their loss. To the parents of Tara, Tamara, and Sandy, I extend my deepest sympathy and promise that we will fully cooperate with the ongoing police investigation. The perpetrator, also an ex-'angel,' Ms. Samantha Jackson, is under custody but sadly already dead. Knowing this is a sad affair, in consideration of this, we've decided to delay classes until October to ensure more than enough time for proper mourning. Ms. Rory Gilmore will, instead, present a eulogy for her dear friend, Tara Remington," the principal declared, which resulted in a tearful speech from the blonde-haired Rory who had difficulty suppressing her emotions as she grieved over her deceased buddy.
---
"Darling, you've smeared your makeup. Did you actually cry for Tara? Really?!" Higgens listened in on a conversation as he walked across campus, not that he liked rumors. But this time it pertained to the investigation.
"Girl, please, I know, right? I know that girl is rotting in hell," Rory cruelly said, glee with the death of Tara. "I'm glad she's gone, I'll be the queen bee of this school next semester,"she declared, continuing to belittle her dead friend and challenge whether her earlier tears were real. Anger brewed inside Higgens as he accidentally ran into another young girl with a black shirt just like the other students. She fell and he immediately helped her up.
"My apologies. Are you okay?" Higgens asked, flashing a reassuring smile.
"I'm okay, officer," the girl replied with a slight smile, nodding gratefully as he patted her shoulder and walked away.
"Officer?" she shouted, after him. "Is it true that Samantha killed those three girls?" she inquired, gazing down at her hands. "Samantha is my friend, and from all that I know of her, she could not have done harm to them. Samantha was afraid of them," she said insistently.
---
Martina, a friend of Samantha's, sat with Higgens in the interrogation room, recording their conversation to aid in securing the innocence of Samantha.
"Do you remember what happened before their visit at the lake?"Higgens pressed.
"Yes, sir, I do," Martina confirmed and as she did so started telling the events. "It was a Saturday morning. I had agreed to drive her there since we were traveling the same way. When I dropped her off at the Remington mansion, I voiced out my apprehension. 'Are you sure about this? I am afraid.' But she just calmed me down by saying that they are now friends. Since Tara used to bully everyone if she perceives them weak or not as well-off as her, I am certain of Samantha's innocence, she concluded as she sipped some water to regain her composure. Higgens rewound the tape, digesting the information that had just told Samantha Jackson was not as guilty as it had all been piling against her.
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Sitting in the back office, Higgens leafed through Samantha's diary, reading between her lines.
"Today was. not as fun as I had hoped. Not as good as it should be considering how long I've been out of town, but a feeling of uneasiness hung over me. We were at the lake earlier, where Tara decided to swim; Samara and Sandy followed her lead. I was ready to join them, but Samara's dismissive tone made me freeze. 'Who is going to watch our stuff if you come with us, Samantha?' Her words hurt my feelings, and when Tara and Sandy started giggling, I felt helpless and useless. Maybe Samara was just having a bad day since she's usually nice to me. Still, I couldn't help but feel like I was being relegated to someone to watch stuff rather than being a friend. Just then, something caught my eye. an apparition above the water, staring straight at me. I froze with fear, my hand quaking as I wrote the rest. Mom, Martina. Help me."
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TO BE CONTINUED.