Quadruplets Make Six

“Sit, boy.” Parker was being so rowdy, but I realized it was just because he was hungry.

I made him a good bowl of wet food, and sat in the living room with my own bowl of oatmeal.

Every channel was littered with news of the park murder. I hadn’t realized someone had died. I just assumed they were injured. And to realize I was there—that I was face to face with a murderer and in such a dangerous situation, it sent chills down my spine…and I almost felt sick to my stomach. I felt lucky, for one, to even get out of the situation.

The longer I had watched the news, the more worried I got. Everyone already had their own take on what was happening. One of the channels was even calling it a serial murder already; I couldn’t believe it. I always kept up with the news, so I knew exactly what they were talking about when they brought up two other murders in the area. Who would even target these types of men? I kept wondering to myself, and was nearly giving myself a headache.

I had to change the channel to some trash television, so I could relax before work. Parker came up for snuggles and I let his rumbling breathing calm me down. I hadn’t realized how bothered I really was by the whole situation. I wondered why I had to be the one to be in that situation, to find that man there. I was surprised they didn’t need more from me. I was watching my phone expecting a call up until when I got ready for work.

I took another hot shower to calm myself down enough to be focused for my day. I didn’t have the kind of job where my mind could be somewhere else. I got dressed in my scrubs and sneakers, and tied my hair back. It was odd being an apartment complex with a dog, because I couldn’t let him out while I was gone; but my neighbor across the hall was a nice old lady that didn’t mind checking on him.

She had a key to my place, and I always reminded her when I was leaving. Parker needed to be fed once while I was gone, and then put in his crate for the night until I got back.

“Honey, you look like you haven’t slept at all!” Martha looked at me with her motherly face and smiled. I just smiled back and shrugged.

“It’s been a long day,” I didn’t go into all the details of witnessing a murder and all.

“Oh, okay. Are you going in early?” she asked me.

Martha had very signature looks. Her hair had gray streaks and her wrinkles were more like makeup than signs of aging. She always had the most comfortable looking sweaters on, always in earth tones. It was dark blue that day and she had tights on too; needless to say she was pretty hip. She was also a retired nurse, so that had been the beginning of our unique friendship.

“Yeah, I have the afternoon shift instead of the usual.” I normally worked what we called the dead shift, which was at midnight and onward. I was lucky to just be doing the night shift this time, because I was still so worked up about earlier.

“I see. So, when should I put Parker up?” She leaned in her doorway. I shifted on my feet and tightened my bag around my shoulder.

“The usual is fine. He was pretty worn out today.” I smiled softly.

“Okay. No problem. You have fun at work, honey.” She tapped my shoulder softly and I smiled in appreciation.

She was pretty much the only person in my life that worried about me. Dad was gone, Mom was never really around like she should have been.

“Thanks.” I took the short walk to the subway, and even greeted some of the regulars. I couldn’t help but notice a change in my demeanor. Looking over my shoulder, looking at people twice. I was being paranoid. Any time I saw a dark hoodie, I thought it was that shooter. I still had a chill from it.

By the time I got to my stop, I was highly considering taking a sick day. It was only three, so I was early for my shift at four. My phone rang with an unknown number as I walked the block to the hospital entrance.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Am I speaking with Rose Camden?”

The voice coming through the phone went right to my core, and I knew it had been too long since I had sex. I mean, come on—a voice.

It was a very sexy voice.

“Yes.”

“This is Detective Alex Jordan. I’m calling you regarding your 911 call this morning.”

Oh goodness. The deep, raspy voice belonged to a police officer. I could only imagine how he looked.

“Um, okay.” I took a deep breath.

“I need you to come in and make a statement.”

I stopped in my tracks and swallowed. I watched enough crime shows to know what that would mean. The statement would be first, and then I would be permanently attached to the case. I would have to testify if it ever went to court. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that. I was still recovering from just witnessing the crime, I didn’t know if I could relive it so soon.

Then I felt what I would have done if it was a patient, or anyone in the hospital.

I sighed deeply. “I don’t know if I can do that,” I responded. It was silent on his end.