Shotgun K

Detective Paek exchanged glances with his partner before he reached over to collect the pictures he was showing me.
“That is on the need-to-know basis.” he replied. “Only the people directly involved are allowed to know.”

“Now, wait a minute.” Mr. Park suddenly spoke out. “You called us back here and wrongly accused Jae-Sung of doing this…this horrible crime and now you’re telling us he’s not directly involved?”

President Chung let out a sound of agreement.
“That’s true; you have yet to tell us what indicated that Jae-Sung was directly involved. Everything you have said so far has all been circumstantial. You even whisked away the worker that had opened the box, and took him back to your place.” he said. “So is Jae-Sung still involved in your murder case?”

“Yes,” Detective Choi responded immediately. I rolled my eyes at his definite answer.

President Chung went on.
“Does it seem to you that he’s guilty of any form of wrong doing?” he asked.

Detective Choi fell silent all of the sudden, not replying. Which I found very amusing.
Detective Paek responded.
“No, I don’t believe that you are guilty.” he replied to me. “You seemed honest enough.”

He turned to the workers that were still in the room.
“You’re free to go,” he told them.
The pair bowed respectfully before silently exiting the room. Detective Paek turned back to us.
“We still have a few things to discuss pertaining to the case.” he said. “But let’s take a break before we continue.”

He got up from the table, we all followed suit. We then wordlessly filed out of the room, just like that.
I stepped out of the room, tired, agitated and in a daze. There were still so many questions floating around in my head, demanding to be answered.

“Jae,” I heard Mr. Park say. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink from the vending machine over there.”
I felt him tug at my arm, pulling me toward the break area of the floor. It was vacant now, letting me have the privacy I really craved right now.
I let my manager tow me towards this space, letting him take over in direction.
I automatically directed myself to the benches opposing the vending machine and dropped down to sit. A long, heavy sigh escaped me then.
“Murder?” I questioned, more to myself than to anyone. “They think I killed someone.”

“Relax, Jae.” Mr. Park said. “You heard Detective Paek. You were cleared; he has no reason to doubt that you are innocent.”

“But then what else do we need to talk about?” I demanded. “I didn’t do anything wrong, I’m tired, and this is wasting my time.”
My manager sighed, and handed me a water bottle.
“Relax,” he told me again. “What is true is that their case seems to be connected to you some how. The girl was there at the promotional event, and on top of that, she had direct contact to you, however brief.”
He sighed, and settled down to sit next to me.
“This girl died not long after the event. The least we can do is talk to the police. Maybe we can help somehow.”
I looked down at the bottle in my hands as I hunched forward, my elbows propped on my knees. He was right; either way I knew I didn’t do anything wrong. They can’t treat me like a criminal…a murderer of all things. Talking isn’t going to change the truth, and it wasn’t going to kill me.
A humorless laugh escaped me and I shook my head.
“The tabloids are gonna love this.” I muttered.
Mr. Park mused.
“Rotten timing too; recently you’ve been made the top spot on the tabloid hit list.” he said.

“Hyun-Ki,”

I looked up to my left and saw President Chung approaching us. Mr. Park got up from the bench as he was addressed.
“Come here for a sec.” the president said.
“Certainly,” Mr. Park said.
He gave me a reassuring pat on my back before going to the president to discuss whatever issues he had brought up.
I watched President Chung say something to my manager. They traded a few quiet words, the exchange looking tense and serious. President Chung said something that made Mr. Park stiffen. I saw him straighten up and glance back towards me. What was that about?
Mr. Park gave me a weak smile before he nodded to the president and followed him to wherever he was going.

I watched the pair disappear around the corner, more than curious to know what their conversation was about. A pair of female workers came around the same corner then, whispering and walking close together as they made their way down the hall. They glanced towards the break area and noticed me sitting there, making them stop.
I looked away quickly and looked down at me hands again. I wasn’t even in the mood to force out my million-dollar smile.

“Good evening,” I heard one of them say tentatively.

I looked up and nodded my head to acknowledge their polite greeting. My lips tugged at the corner a little, but really, I was just too tired to smile. It may have looked more like a grimace.

“Poor guy,” I heard one of them whisper as they walked away.
“I know; but I guess it’s the price you pay for being so popular.” the other replied.

I’m being accused of murder because I’m popular? What the heck was that?
I groaned, and leaned against the wall behind me. My head hit the wall with a light thud.
Either way, it was clear that word was getting around about this incident---

“Did that interrogation answer some questions, Choi?”

My ears perked at the mentioning of the ass of a detective, immediately zoning in on the conversation taking place. I straightened on the bench and pressed myself against the wall.
It was definitely Detective Paek speaking. He and Detective Choi must be in the workers’ break room that was separated from the resting area I was sitting…by this thin not-so-soundproof wall.
I heard a disgruntled noise come in response. That must’ve been Choi.

“Yea…the kid doesn’t look like he did it.” he admitted reluctantly. “I say he doesn’t have the galls to do it.”

I’ll take that as the nicest thing he’s said to me so far. ‘Not having the galls’ trumps being accused of murder any day.
I heard a heavy sigh.
“Unfortunately, that brings us back to square one.” I heard Detective Paek reply. “We need to go back over the evidence to see if we had missed anything vital.”
“What could we have missed?” Detective Choi thought out loud. “We went over everything; the mailing schedule, all the people that handled the fan mails, who had access to that room, the note---”

The note?

“Speaking of that note…how is that guy doing?”
“I called to check up on him. He’s still shaken; the guys back in the department are giving him a break.” Choi said. “Rough day for him; I mean to be the one to have opened that box…”

That box…the package. In the conference room.
The one they have yet to tell me what was inside.

My eyes zoned in all the way down the hall, passed the ‘interrogation’ room, and onto the yellow tape on the door. And the guard was nowhere to be seen.

I got up from the bench and stared. My whole body itched to just sprint down to the door and push in to the room.
No one’s guarding the door; now’s the chance!
My mind wandered back to the two detectives talking in the break room right next to me.
They don’t want me to know what was in the package. Just one look; they won’t see me.
It will be a really quick look; they’re practically asking for it by leaving the door unguarded.
I have the right to know what’s in the box.

I found myself moving forward, leaving my water bottle behind on the bench. I didn’t look back towards the break room; I didn’t want to make any suspicious movement. I moved smoothly into the hall, not too fast, and not to slow. Once I was out of the possible view of the detectives, I silently let out a breath of relief. Now nothing was in my way to get to the room.

I could literally hear my heart thumping away as if it was in my head, getting louder and faster as I drew closer to the yellow-taped door. I almost felt like a thief robbing from the unsuspecting; it felt so wrong. But I deserved to know.
Whatever was in that package was the main reason why I was brought back to the agency to begin with. I wasn’t here because I wanted to; I should know what the incident was.
If they won’t tell me, I’ll just find out myself.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the conference room door. My chest felt tight with this heavy anxiety and my fingers like lead as I reached down and ripped the yellow tape off of the door frame. Then my hand was on the doorknob.
That’s it…now’s the chance! Just one more step…Why hasn’t anyone caught me yet?

I held my breath and pulled down the handle of the doorknob.

I felt the door move back with the slight push of my hand. Really? The guard left without locking the door first?
I couldn’t feel bad or guilty now. It was their own carelessness that got me into this room.
Moving slowly still, I pushed the door open in a gentle pace, afraid that the door would let out a loud creak and give me away. The door obediently gave way to me silently as I stepped fully into the room.

The conference room was almost just as I had last seen it, minus the bulk of the fan mail missing. Yet there was still a fair sized pile scattered on the big table.
And in the middle of the scattered, disorganized pile was a blank white sheet, like a huge oversized handkerchief draped over the pile. But there was no hiding the perfectly symmetrical, clean cornered shape of a box. The package.
I frowned at the display, my confusion growing.
Despite the mess and the randomness of the letters left on the table, this white sheet was draped rather neatly over the package. The police must have placed it that way after they got here…to cover the package.
I approached the table, ready to pull the annoying cover off of the table---

Squish.

I stopped. This wet sound was out of place, considering I was in a dry conference room. And it came from underneath my foot---
My eyes fell to the floor under my shoes.
The normally light gray carpeting was flawed with this dark brown puddle that had saturated deep into the fibers. By the feel of it under my shoe, it was still very wet.
I bent down to the floor to take a closer look. Strange, it was just this place; a big spot, but it didn’t come from underneath the table. What was it to begin with? Tentatively, I reached forward to the floor towards this puddle…

Drip.

The subtle sound of a small drop falling on top of the wet carpet broke out in the quiet, sounding soft and thick. My hand froze before it made contact with the wet carpet.
Dripping? From where?
Then my eyes landed on the edge of the conference table.

Something dark was congealed on the edge of the flat surface, still wet and dripping in long intervals. Whatever this liquid was it was thicker than water. And it left a glistening trail leading from somewhere underneath that white sheet.

I stood up and stared down at the white sheet, unable to look away from the hidden bulk underneath. I don’t know what is was, but a feeling of cold dread crept into my chest. I inhaled sharply, trying to force myself to relax.
I need to know. I need to know…
My hand automatically stretched forward, reaching for the sheet. My fingertips brushed against the only thing that was in the way from my goal.
It felt like a thick textured plastic, like a shower curtain…water-proof.

My fingers trailed across the surface and felt a dip in the middle of the bulk it was covering.
The box was kept open.
I felt the upper left corner of the plastic under my hand and stopped.

Was it me, or did this liquid look a lot like…

My fingers curled tightly around the corner of the white plastic sheet, and before I could chicken out or finish that last thought, I yanked.
My eyes found the package just where I thought it was hiding.

The harsh sound of the plastic being pulled aside seemed to resonate in the quiet room as it passed through the air and crumpled roughly on the floor. I heard the package briefly scraping across the surface of the table from the force of the plastic cover being ripped off, threatening to fall over the edge of the table.
And more of that sick…disgusting dripping…much more dripping.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t look away. The thing inside the package, it was too surreal. Messy, torn up and completely out of place.
But the shape, the look, the details…it was undeniably real. I’ve never actually seen one before, but I recognized it immediately.

The thing I recognized as being a human heart.

I couldn’t move, but I felt as it the blood had drained down to my feet and out of my body. Possibly adding to the expanding stain in the carpet…
I felt myself take a step back, slowly, and not once blinking. I felt my foot pull out of the puddle of blood with an audible squish.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“…Jae-Sung?”

Someone was calling me outside the door, somewhere down the hall. Mr. Park?

“Jae?”

Footsteps were coming closer, closing in on me. My eyes flickered to the open door, and fell back to the open package. Then to the blood on the floor.
---Why was there so much blood?

“Jae!”

The voice was close enough for me to snap out of my thoughts. I turned my head to the door to see Mr. Park standing there, his eyes wide. He looked around the room quickly and saw white sheet on the floor and the deep stain in the carpet. Then he saw that package and what was inside, and he blanched.

He wasted no time practically lunging for the white sheet, spreading it out and hurriedly covering the…it.
While he was trying to straighten out the cover, someone else came to the room.
“Yah! You can’t be in here---” Detective Choi started.
But then he froze, when he saw my face.
“You…” he growled.
He stomped into the room and grabbed me by my arm before he started to drag me out of the room. This was the nicest thing he has done to me all night.
I heard Mr. Park yelling after us in protest as the detective continued to drag me down the hall.
“You looked at the package! Just who the hell do you think you are, messing around in the crime scene like that?” he yelled at me. “You may be a hot-shot on TV and all, but you do not run the show in this business—”

“I had the right to KNOW!” I snapped, and I yanked my arm out of his grip. I may have even shoved the guy back a little. “Why couldn’t you just tell me, huh?”

“Jae-Sung!” I heard Mr. Park yell. He finally caught up to where we were glaring at each other.

I felt something on my arm and I flinched, practically jumping away. When I wheeled around, I saw that it was just Mr. Park reaching forward.
I saw his bewildered expression fall.

“I---I, uh…” I heard myself say.

But then I wheeled around and started walking away at a rapid pace down the hall.