My Best Horrible Story

I found out from the landlord that Janey still had two months on her lease so I picked it up. Having two months to crack how Janey died should be plenty,

My first plan of action was to find the woman who called the police when Janey died. It didn't take much research to find out, the police had told my aunt the name.

It was Patricia Baskart who apparently lived down the hall. I waited till eleven in the morning before beaconing at her door. Not an easy task for someone like myself who's very on the go. I even decided I was to live in Janey's old apartment till I figured out what was going on.

A pudgy woman who looked to be in her mid-forties answers the door, a cigarette dangling from her lips and a firm hand set on her hip.
"Yeah?" she asks, looking me over.
"I'd like to ask you about the girl who lived down the hall, Janey?" I say clearly.
"Listen, you cops have to stop coming around, I ain't gonna tell you anything different than last time, I told you all I know." she says pretty pissed off.
"I'm not a cop." I say before she can close the door, "Janey was my cousin."
"You don't say." she says opening the door wide again and looks me over for a second time, "So you from the rich side of the family?"

I look down at my clothes, I'm wearing a dressy pair of trousers and a button up shirt with a little scarf. I am dressed a little out of place for an apartment complex where fifty percent of the tenants are on welfare.

"Uhh," I say uneasily, "Please, I just want to know what happened to Janey." she lets out a sigh before leaning against the doorway.
"All I know is that I heard a crack load of noise so I came to tell whoever was in the hall to shut the hell up," she takes a long drag from her cigarette, "I open the door and to find Janey walking along the wall, all bloodied up with a needle in her arm, she collapsed to the ground so I called an ambulance, when they finally got here they said she'd already died."
"Thank you."

I march down the hall towards the stairs, pulling out my cell phone.
"Zoe!" my aunt says picking up on her end.
"Hey auntie," I say heading out to my car, "What hospital did they take Janey to?"
"West Marshall." she answers automatically, "What have you found out?"
"I thought it was suicide," I inform, "But after searching her apartment I didn't find a suicide note or anything else supporting my theory."
"Okay."
"Then I talked to the woman who called the ambulance, and now I'm thinking there was foul play."
"Alright, keep me posted on what you find out." she sighs.
"Kay Auntie, take care."
"You too honey." she whispers as we hang up.

"You here about the woman on the third floor!" someone yells at me, "She ignores her fucking kid all the time, she shouldn't have her!"
"Are you talking to me?" I ask curiously as I'm about to get in my car.
"You're a social worker aren't you?" the guys asks.
"No."
"Sorry, you look like the one that usually comes by here." he says apologetically as I get into my car.