by Lin, Harper
As long as we were just working together, I could stand it. Finding this crazy maniac who was trying to poison me took precedence over the awkwardness of reconnecting to an ex-boyfriend. Yet I felt woozy after Sterling’s visit. This was the Sterling I knew and loved: strong, capable, caring. I tried not to let my body turn into jelly after I closed the front door.
I tried to concentrate on the case instead. Surely there was something that I could do.
I knew Sterling would do his best to get to the bottom of this because he always had a brilliant mind, but I had impatience on my side. If Craig wanted to kill me, there was surely proof of that, and I might as well go find it while the trail was hot.
CHAPTER TEN
I could see why Sterling wanted to a be detective. If I wasn’t a singer, it would be fun to be a spy. It would such an adrenaline rush. When I was little I used to spy on neighbours and eavesdrop on conversations all the time. And I was never caught. I figured that since I wasn’t doing much, I could speed up the investigative process by helping.
I called Mirabelle.
“Hey, where does your employee Craig live?”
“Why?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you later. I just wanted to have a chat with him.”
“Are you up to something?” Mirabelle asked.
“No, I just want to ask him a couple of questions about the whole cafe incident.”
“Fine, I’ll forward his phone and address to you on the phone.”
“Thanks. Hey, does he live alone?”
“Yes, I think so. Why you need to know?”
“Just wondering. Gotta go.” I hung up.
There was no need to sit and wait for answers when I could just go to the source. While Sterling had to play by the books, I could get down to business and do the real digging.
When Nick was training for his action film, I went to visit him in Queens for his training sessions. I even trained with his trainer for fun and now I was very adept at Krav Maga, this brutal form of combat and self-dense used by the Israeli army. So I wasn’t afraid to be attacked; I could handle myself. If Craig was the killer, I could take him. I may look small, but I could pack a punch.
Craig lived only three blocks from the cafe, on the third floor of a little apartment building. I threw my clothes on—all black for the mission—tied my hair into a bun, and headed out.
I passed the Chocoholic Cafe on my way there, but the sight of the place closed down in the middle of the bustling street made me sad. I was going to get whoever did this. I had to. All the pink-faced and merry shoppers, the charming brick and mortar stores, the lovely residents—I loved this town. The locals didn’t deserve to have their lives in jeopardy because of me. I had to help close this case as soon as possible.
I turned a corner and headed to the residential Swann Street, where Craig’s place was.
A man was walking my way in the distance. As I got closer, I realized it was the man of the hour. Craig was walking towards me with his headphones on. He wore a grey ski jacket and had his hands in his pockets, looking melancholic. There was something tragic about him. His overgrown hair shaded one eye and he didn’t seem to be aware of his surrounding.
My original plan to was break into his home, but now that he was before me, I could talk to him to suss him out.
“Craig!” I said loud enough for him to hear with his headphones on.
He blinked twice, and took off his earphones, stumbling to turn off his iPod.
“Hey, it’s Emma,” I said. “Mirabelle’s sister?”
“I know who you are,” he muttered.
“What are you listening to?” I asked with a smile.
“Oh, uh,” he stuttered, “just music.”
His eyes darted. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in front of me.
I chuckled. “Well fancy meeting you here.”
“I live here,” he said, after a beat.
“I was just on my way to see a friend. Where are you off to?”
He buried his hands deep into the jacket pockets and looked down at his shoes.
“The police station,” he said. “They have some questions about the, you know, problem at the cafe.”
“Why would they ask you?”
He shrugged. “I guess they think I might know something, since I talk to everyone who comes in.”
“They don’t think you had anything to do with the death do they?” I asked casually, like a joke.
“I don’t think so,” he said seriously. “Because I had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
Did I detect a note of defensiveness in his voice?
“Well,” I said. “I’m sorry that the cafe’s closed down. It’s such a shame for everyone.”
Craig nodded. “Yes, but I’m not worried about my job. You know, from what I gathered from the detective, someone might be out to get you. Are you afraid?
He blinked twice and stared at me as he waited for my response. I felt uneasy, but I stared back, as if to answer a challenge.
“No,” I said. “I have nothing to be afraid of. The only thing I’m wondering is why?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t know, but there’s a lot of psychos out there, you know?”
“Yes,” I said.
His face was still blank and inscrutable. He turned to leave.
I could see why Sterling had his suspicions. Craig was a bit off. He was definitely secretive. I felt as if there was something he wasn’t telling me, which was why I planned on breaking into his apartment.
I once read that you could tell more about a person by glancing around his room than talking to the person. I really believed that. I mean, if you go through my room, you’ll see how girly and romantic I was. If this guy was a killer, I’d know it by a glance around his living space.
Snowflakes slowly descended from the sky. The street was pretty calm except for an old man who went into Craig’s building with a bag of groceries. I knew that Craig would be at the police station for a while, so I had plenty of time for a quick check-in.
I could’ve followed the man in, but there was a much easier way. This was Hartfield, a place ridiculously easy to break into. If Craig was like everyone else in town and lived in a house, he probably would’ve left the front door unlocked, as many of my neighbours and my parents did.
I quickly went around the side of the building to the back. The building had a fire escape, and I had to jump to pull the stairs down. I climbed as quietly as I could so that the neighbours on the other two floors wouldn’t be disturbed, if they were there at all.
On the third floor, I peered into the window. The curtains were open, and nobody seemed to be inside. The window was heavy, but I managed to lift it.
When the opening was big enough, I slipped in. I stood in Craig’s living room.
It seemed like a place that a bachelor in his early twenties would live in. Mismatched furniture were carelessly arranged in the space, including a raggedy couch in an ugly shade of brown and a beat up oak coffee table. A bong was on top. He owned a modest-sized TV and a collection of video games. There was an acoustic guitar by the corner. The fridge contained more condiments than real food.
I found a notebook on the kitchen counter. I was hoping it was his journal. I flipped through it and read a few pages. It was all poetry. Really cheesy poetry, the emo kind I used to write in high school. Many were about heartbreak and love. Poor kid.
Looking around, it didn’t seem as if he could be the killer. Maybe we were wrong. Maybe he was just a sensitive kid who just wanted to get away from the city for a while. Find himself and all that. I could relate to that. In fact, looking around the sorry excuse for a living room, I felt sorry for him.
Next I checked out his bedroom.
And that was when I freaked out.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
My own face stared back at me from every angle of Craig’s bedroom. Posters, magazine shoots, album covers, tabloid pictures, you name it. All my CDs were stacked on to
p of his stereo. He even owned all my singles and EPs. He was also the proud owner of most of the merchandise we sold from my last North American tour: t-shirts, buttons, tote bags. It was totally creepy. Flattering, but mostly creepy.
I had never seen anything like this. Sure I’d met many people who had claimed to be my biggest fan, but I doubted that they slept in a shrine devoted entirely to me.
What I didn’t understand about obsessive fans was why they would turn on the very person they were obsessed with.
But what did I know? Sometimes the line between love and hate was a bit blurred.
I called Sterling.
“Emma?” he answered.
“Is Craig still at the police station?”
“Yes,” he said. “I”m in the middle of questioning him, why?”
“Don’t release him. I’m in his apartment.”
“Why are you in his apartment?”
“I broke in,” I said casually.
“Emma, are you out of your mind? You can’t just break into people’s houses!”
“Well, he wasn’t here, was he? Do you know what I found or what?”
I told him about Emma Wild shrine that I found. However there was nothing further to go on. I searched his drawers, bed, closet, everywhere. No poison, no weapons. The guy didn’t even own a computer.
“Get out of there,” said Sterling.
“Just keep him there a bit longer,” I said. “I need to find something.”
I hung up and kept searching. Maybe Craig had a secret hiding spot, like under a plank of wood on the floor or something.
After ten more minutes of searching, a voice piped up from the window. I jumped, startled by the deep voice.
“Emma.” It was Sterling, looking a bit frazzled. “You nut. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”
“Oh, hi Sterling.” I smiled sweetly.
I was starting to get used to his presence. Sure, he had shattered my heart once, but I think over the years I’d overblown that incident to monumental proportions. I’d always been a dramatic person. I was even comfortable enough to tease him a little.
“Are you my father? Relax, it’s fine. I know self-defense.”
He sighed and rubbed his face. “Let’s see it then.”
I showed him the room. He was impressed.
“A bit excessive, huh?”
“It’s looking a lot clearer now,” he said. “This might just be our creep.”
“But the thing is, we don’t have much proof. So far, he’s just an obsessed fan.”
Sterling crossed his arms. “There might be more to it. Apparently he used to have a drug problem when he was a teen. He even went to juvie for a few months after fighting with someone and almost pounding the other kid to death. He’s obviously a troubled guy, possibly mentally disturbed.”
“Why would he come after me?”
“For control. Maybe he’s obsessed with you and knows that he can’t have you. After all, you are with this hotshot movie star. Maybe he doesn’t think he has a chance and would rather kill you than lose you to someone else.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that I almost laughed.
“Seriously? That’s what you can come up with for a motive?”
Sterling shrugged. “Just a guess.”
This time, I really laughed.
“I just can’t imagine it.”
“Imagine what?” he asked.
“That someone would be so in love with me to want to kill me.”
He pressed his lips together, staying silent for a couple of minutes, then he turned to me.
“Emma, maybe you don’t know the effect that you have on people.”
The humorous smile faded from my face. Sterling looked serious. And sad. Could he still have feelings for me?
“You’re beautiful and talented. Your music is enormously popular. Certain guys will put you on a pedestal. It’s not a good feeling when they’re faced with something that they can’t have. When they’re so close.”
I slowly nodded.
“You know,” I said. “My life’s not that perfect. People think I have this lavish life, but I’m still the same person. There’s just more people looking up to me. And I kind of resent that sometimes. I can’t be this perfect role model all the time. Because frankly, they don’t know how much of a mess I can be. How much of a mess I am. The media can adore me and easily turn on me, and that’s the case with this case. Love can easily turn on itself, can’t it?”
Sterling sighed.
He took me into his arms and hugged me.
He didn’t need to say anything. These were the kind of moments when I really enjoyed his silences. Because I knew that he understood. And if he didn’t, he was willing to try.
I pulled away.
“And my perfect relationship to the famous movie star? Well, that’s over. Gone in a New York second, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “What happened?”
“He wanted lingerie models.”
The somber way I said it made him chuckle. “He’s a shallow idiot.”
“I agree.”
“Then it’s agreed then,” Sterling teased. “Your life is terrible.”
I scowled. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I hate it too when a celebrity complains. I know how good I have it too.”
“Someone’s trying to kill you,” Sterling said. “You have the right to feel a bit apprehensive about your lifestyle.”
“You’re right. Thanks.” I headed back out the window. “You coming? I really want to talk to this guy, and get to the bottom of it already.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“So I hear that you’re a big fan of Emma Wild,” said Sterling.
I watched Craig in the interrogation room from behind the one-way mirror as Sterling questioned him. Craig’s eyes widened the way they did when he’d ran into me earlier, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
Craig didn’t answer.
“Are you or are you not a fan of Emma Wild’s music?”
He nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Do you have all her CDs?”
Craig paused. “Yes. I listen to quite a lot of her songs. That’s not a crime, is it?”
“You just don’t seem like the type.”
“The type to what?”
“Listen to her music.”
Craig looked offended. “And what’s wrong with her music? It’s well-written, her voice is beautiful, and it’s deep. She gets me.”
Sterling crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at him.
“Seems a bit suspicious that you’d come all the way to live in her hometown, where you know no one, and get a job at her sister’s cafe. Is that what you came out here for? For a chance to meet Emma Wild?”
“No. I didn’t think that would happen. I thought she lived in New York.”
“But you knew that her family lived here, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“And what a coincidence that you got a job at Emma’s sister’s cafe. What a better chance to meet Emma than there, short of breaking into her home, right?”
“Really, I had no idea that Mirabelle was her sister until I got the job.”
Craig’s face turned red. Was he embarrassed or guilty?
“I want a lawyer,” he said.
“You have plenty of experience with lawyers, don’t you?” Sterling continued. “You had a slew of trouble when you were in your teens, and now you’re on the straight and narrow?
“Yes,” Craig said through clenched teeth.
“It just so happened that you abandoned the city where your friends and family lives to move all the way to a small town where you know no one.”
“Yes. If you really must know, the city was getting too crazy for me. And my family and I don’t get along. It’s true that I’m a big fan of Emma Wild. I knew she’d grown up here, and it sounded like a nice town, so I moved up here, to get away from everything. And it really was a coincidence that I got a job
at her sister’s cafe. Except that I wouldn’t call it a coincidence.”
Sterling leaned in on the table. “What would you call it then?”
A dreamy smile spread over Craig’s face. “Fate.”
Sterling raised an eyebrow.
