Victim

Michelle opened her eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window. She reached behind her, searching for Brian’s hand, but only finding an empty space. She felt her eyes begin to water, wishing yesterday had just been a bad dream and that he’d be lying there beside her.

She resisted the urge to pull the blankets over her head, and dragged herself to the bathroom where she changed out of the clothes she’d been wearing since yesterday afternoon. She glanced at the clock as she left the room. 8:09 am: at least an hour earlier than when she usually woke up.

She walked slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen. Their house had always been big for just the two of them, but it felt even larger and emptier with just one person living there than it ever had before. She drank a glass of orange juice and went to sit on the couch. Michelle flipped on the television, even though she wasn’t really watching it. She was mostly listening for the sounds of someone arriving, as vain of a hope as it was to hope that Brian might return. When he said something, he meant it; she knew that well enough.

After half an hour, there came the sound of a car in the driveway, closely followed by someone banging on the front door. She jumped, staring in the direction of the door, her mind racing at who it might be. No one she was friends with ever knocked, and then one of her last shreds of hope took over. Brian. Maybe Val had locked the doors last night before she left and he hadn’t taken a key…

She jumped up and sprinted to the door, undoing the locks and yanking the door open. Her face fell when she realized that instead of Brian, two police officers were standing on the porch. She’d been stupid to think it might’ve been him, returned after less than twenty-four hours of being gone. She stepped back and invited them inside. They didn’t move, but the taller of the pair spoke:

“I’m Detective Endlow; this is my partner Detective Gregory. Are you Michelle Haner?” She nodded and he stepped through the doorway, followed by his partner. She led them to the living room, where she directed them to the couch and perched on an armchair, attempting to look as presentable as possible for a woman in pajama pants and a hooded sweatshirt with her hair in a ponytail.

“Is everything okay, officer?” Michelle asked, trying not to jump to the worst possible conclusion.

“I’m afraid not. Your husband, Brian…I’m afraid…I don’t know how to tell you this…his body was found in a Los Angeles alley early this morning…he’s dead,” the shorter one, Detective Gregory, responded, rubbing the back of his neck like he didn’t want to be there. He hated his job, always having to tell people that the person they loved most was dead or dying. He fixed his gaze on the wood floor, unable to look at her.

“Do you know wh…what happened…to him?” Michelle stammered, feeling her eyes begin to water again. She couldn’t allow herself to start crying right here, right now. She had to hold herself together until they left.

“We’re not sure exactly what happened yet, but LAPD says it looked like a gunshot wound to the heart. Can you think of anything that might’ve caused this?” the taller asked, for his partner was still looking at anything but the woman in front of them.

Michelle was halfway through shaking her head when she remembered what the note said. She reached forward, picking the letter up gingerly, as if it might bite her, and handed it to the officers.

“I found that when he left yesterday,” left she explained, watching both sets of eyes scanning the note.

“Do you mind if we take this to show the detective? We’ll call you when we find out something new,” Detective Endlow told her, standing. His partner followed suit and handed her a business card, telling her to call the number if she ever needed to. Then they left, and she was alone again.

When she heard the car pull out of the driveway she allowed herself to cry. Dead. Brian was dead. Last night while she’d been drowning in self-pity, he’d probably been bleeding to death in an alleyway. She felt horrible for considering for even a moment that he might’ve been cheating on her, even though it was still a possibility for him leaving.

She flopped onto her side, sobbing, and turned the television off with more force than necessary. She felt like throwing the remote at it will all of her might, but she couldn’t force herself to. She reached for the phone behind her head, dialing her sister’s number, once again to be the bearer of bad news.

It was Matt that answered. “Michelle? Is everything okay?”

“He’s dead, Matt. He was shot,” Michelle answered, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. She heard him drop the phone and start shouting for Val and Jimmy, who she guess had decided to crash at their place last night after having to take Matt home. There was a rustling noise then her sister’s voice was coming through the other end.

“Don’t worry, Michelle; we’ll be there as soon as possible. Love you,” Val said before ending the call without giving Michelle time to answer. To pass the time between the present and waiting for Val to get here, she called Zack and Johnny. Zack told her that he’d seen it on the news about ten seconds before he called, and Johnny sounded like he was choking on something when he responded. There were a few crashes and bangs from Johnny’s end of line and what sounded like a car engine starting right beside her ear before the line went dead. He must’ve forgotten he was on a house phone again.

Half an hour later and everyone, including many that hadn’t managed to show up last night, was crowded in the middle of her living room floor for the second time in less than twenty four hours. All of the furniture had been pushed back and everyone had an alcoholic beverage or two in front of them, along with a bottle of vodka slowly being passed around the circle. Everyone in the room had started crying more than once, some never stopping, and most of their faces were red and blotchy. They sat mostly in silence, not knowing what they were supposed to say to one another.

They stayed like that, occasionally saying something they remembered about Brian, until the early hours of the morning. Everyone ended up sleeping where they were, some piled on top of each other from their inability to stay awake long enough to move out of the way. No one really cared; they were just glad that they still had each other.

Many of them awoke hours later to the sound of the phone ringing, several shielding their eyes from sunlight and groggily moving the arms or legs of the ones still sleeping off of them. Jimmy, being the closest to the phone, answered it. Everyone watched him as he made a few incoherent noises in response to the caller for a few minutes, his facial expression changing quickly from one to another. He told the caller to wait, put the phone on speaker, placed it in the middle of the circle, and told them to start speaking again.

Michelle immediately recognized the voice as belonging to one of the police officers that had given her the news yesterday. Detective Endlow.

“A full autopsy will take longer, but one of the medical examiners did find something interesting on his person,” the officer began, then paused as if unsure how to continue.

“Go on,” Jimmy said in what would’ve normally been an encouraging manner, but it sounded hollow to Michelle’s ears. His facial expression matched his tone. Whatever was coming wasn’t good.

The detective cleared his throat and began to speak again, “Um, two dime bags of cocaine were found in his pants pocket.”

Michelle choked on a sob, covering her mouth with one hand and staring at the phone with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. There was no way it could possibly be true. It just couldn’t be. He didn’t do drugs like that. Then she remembered that there was a lot he might’ve lied to her about. She wiped one hand across her eyes and went into the kitchen. She sat in one of the bar chairs with her hands wrapped around her head resting on the counter. She could hear someone hang the phone up and whispering coming from the living room, but she didn’t want to be around anyone right now. She just wanted to know what else had been a lie.