High Anxiety

This case it getting too confusing.

What I really needed to consider was Mirajane's relationship with the victim; the unknown substance on Stacy's cheek and hands; the identical license plates; and the janitor’s missing wedding ring. Do these have something in common, some connection, perhaps? Or am I over thinking all of this?

I should break it down.

Since Mirajane had a relationship with the victim, it could be her motive. He gave her a bad reputation so she wanted revenge. There’s nothing as satisfying as cutting up your ex-boyfriend into six pieces.

Then there’s the shiny substance on Stacy's cheek. If she washed her face with water, it wouldn't leave a reflection when drying. If she had some type of sugary drink of snack, that would be the result. But unless she’s a messy eater then it wouldn't end up on her cheek.

The identical license plates were the most confusing. Mirajane would only need one car to get to work. Unless the real murderer copied her plate to throw us off.

The missing wedding ring was just suspicious. His ring just happens to be at the cleaners. Who knows? He might not even be married. There’s no tan line to show that he ever wore a ring.

No matter what; one of these suspects was lying. It is my job to find out whom. Is it Stacy, Mirajane, or Mr. Harrison? None of them have an alibi to cover for them.

I walked to Jessica thinking, Is there a motive to why the janitor would kill him? He didn't react very strongly when he saw the head. Mirajane dated the victim – that’s her motive. Stacy doesn't have much of a motive except for jealousy.

"Excuse me, Mirajane?" I asked, and she looked up with her bright green eyes.

"Yes, Detective?" she asked.

"I was just told that you do know the victim," I said sitting next to her. I waited for a response, "Is it true?"

She said something that I couldn't hear, and then she cleared her throat. "Yes, I know Jordan."

"Why'd you lie, Mirajane? I would have found out sooner or later."

"I didn't want to be a suspect," she said as she began to cry.

"Stacy Mark told me you dated the victim."

"That bitch is here?!" she yelled. "We never got along because Jordan refused to date her; tagged her as ugly."

Girls are crazy.

I nodded. "I was in the parking lot and we found the body."

"Where?"

"Before I answer, I’ve got a question for you."

"Yes? What is it?"

"Do you drive a car or a truck?"

"I drive a car, why?"

"The body was found in your car," she started to shake her head at me. "but there was a blood trail leading to a truck with the same license plate as your car."

"Why is there the same plate?"

"We don't know, but if you're innocent then that means you're being framed."

"I am innocent, I swear!" she grabbed both of my hands in hers. “I guarantee that I did not kill him."

"Well your promise won't be enough to convince me." She continued crying.

She wiped them away with her hands. I looked and her hands shimmered like Stacy's hands and cheeks. I looked at her cheeks and they were the same as her hands. I looked at Stacy; she didn't have any sugary substances; so was she crying?

"Where are your car keys?" I asked.

"They're in my locker," she replied.

"Can you show me?"

"Of course," she said as she stood up. "I always put them in my purse so I know where they are."

"Does anybody else know that you keep them there?"

"Everybody who works here and anybody who knows me from school."

"Would Stacy know?" She stopped to think for a moment.

"I used to give her rides when we were friends freshman year."

"So she does know?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Can you explain what your keys look like, just in case I find them?"

"Well...." She put her hand on her chin to think. "They have a lot of key chains and one has my name on it." She paused. "Why would they be missing?"

"Just thinking ahead," I replied.

"Here's my locker." She opened it and pulled out her purse.

After a few minutes of searching she dumped the contents of her purse on the floor to keep searching. I watched as she finally told me, "They're missing, just like you thought."

"I’ll escort you back to the bench where you were sitting," I said, grabbing her arm pulling her back.

Wonder if the janitor knows Stacy or Mirajane...

After I led Mirajane next to Jessica on the bench, I walked up to the janitor. He was sitting on a counter bending over with his elbows on his knees. When I stopped in front of him, he looked up. I smiled. "Hey, Mr. Harrison."

"When can I leave?"

"You can leave when I solve the murder but it’ll be a little longer."

"And you call yourself a professional, Detective."

"Excuse me?" I asked, offended.

"It’s been an hour since I have arrived, why isn't it solved?"

"Little something called evidence."

"Whatever."

"I didn't come to fight with you Mr. Harrison. I have questions."

"Ask away."

"Do you know Stacy Mark?" He didn't say anything. "Well?"

"She comes here a lot."

"How often?"

"Almost everyday."

"Where does she usually go?"

"The claw machine, she's really good at those kinds of games."

"Okay, now what about Mirajane Walker?"

"She's the manager, so of course I know her."

"Oh, of course. Has she been acting weird lately?"

"Nope, same ol' crazy teenager."

"Lastly, do you know the victim?"

"Of course I know that dumb ass, I caught him vandalizing the building and equipment."

"So you hate him?"

"Oh yeah, he was always aggravating me, the thorn in my side."

"You hate him enough to kill him?"

"No way in hell!" Mr. Harrison yelled. “I’m pissed off, not stupid!”

"How do you know Stacy comes in everyday?"

"Uh....well.....hm." he said trying to find the words.

"You two friends? She comes to see you? More than friends? Is that why you hesitated when I asked you about her?" I said drowning him in questions to get him to spill. "Are you having an affair? Does your wi-"

" Be quiet!" he boomed making me jump in fright. He started fiddling with his fingers. "Stacy and I are...close."

"That's rape Mr. Harrison."

"Not if she comes onto me."

"How long did you guys, date behind your wife's back?"

"Sarah, she knows, she’s having an affair too."

"How long?"

"Few months but she suddenly stopped coming over a day my keys went missing."

Affair with janitor.
Jealous of Mirajane for dating victim.
Liked the victim but wasn't liked in return.
Stopped visiting when keys went missing.
Dry tears on her hands and face.

One last question to ask Stacy. I walked over to her. "Stacy?"

"Yes, Detective?" she asked.

"Do you drive a car or truck?"

"Truck, so I can carry things in the back."

"I see. Are you related to somebody who ever took metal shop?"

"I took it but my dad did too."

"What kind of things do you carry in your purse?" She didn't respond for a moment.

"A purse is personal."

"Like keys, make-up, wallet?"

"One of the many things," she replied.

Time to close this case.

"Hey Chief," I said, walking up to him.

"The case solved yet?" Chief asked, munching on a cookie from the vending machine.

"Yes, gather everybody around here," I ordered.

"You heard him," Chief said to the other officers.

I waited for everybody to gather; I was sure who it was that killed Jordan Harvey Skate.

"About time," Mr. Harrison growled.

"Who is it?" Chief asked eating the last of his cookie and sucking on his fingers.

"Well, none other than..." I chuckled. "Miss...Stacy Mark."

"WHAT?!" Stacy yelled. "What's your proof?"

"I have plenty pointing at you."

"What is the proof?" Stacy repeated.

"First," I put one finger up, "the blood trail from Mirajane's car to your truck, which means you hit him with your truck."

"How do you know it was my truck?"

"A license plate identical to Mirajane's just happens to be on a truck, you also took metal shop so you'd know how to make them." She didn't respond, and I knew I was right. "Second," I put a second finger up, "you and Mr. Harrison are...were having an affair but you just happened to stop coming the day after his keys disappeared; which means you used him to get back at Jordan."

"What? This can't be true. Stacy?" Mr. Harrison asked.

"It is true, right Stacy?" She still didn't respond. "Third," I put a third finger up, "your cheeks are shimmering like Mirajane's when she cried; which means you were crying as you killed Jordan." Stacy clenched her fists, "Fourth," a fourth finger popped up, "you framed Mirajane out of pure jealousy; you stole her keys and they're in your purse because you didn't know where to put them after you set the rest of the body in Mirajane's car." I smiled. "That’s the proof, Stacy."

"What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?" Chief asked.

"You do live up to your reputation, Detective Graves," she said smiling. "That bastard deserved to die."

"Arrest her," Chief ordered and Stacy was cuffed.

"At least I was caught by a cute detective instead of an ugly one; you better watch your back when I’m out," she told us as she was forced out of the building.

I got chills, she was so creepy. The chief patted my back, saying, "Good job Zack, another case solved."

"Yeah, thanks." I said, frowning.

"She won't be out for awhile, so don't worry. Oh, and that reminds me," he looked at the janitor, “you’re going in for statutory rape, Mr. Harrison."

"Knew it would backfire," he said chuckling as the officer cuffed him.

"Jessica needs attention," Mirajane said smiling. "Thanks for solving the case."

”It’s what I do." I smiled and she shook my hand.

"Thank you so much." She walked off.

Just another case to build my reputation.