Already Dead (Laura Frost FBI)

The door finally opened as Detective Waters moved away, having nodded at her with a peculiar expression which Laura interpreted as a mixture of shame (at being sent away) and relief. She turned her full attention onto the occupant of the basement as he came into view, hanging onto the door awkwardly like it was a comfort blanket. He was shorter than Laura, shorter than the average man in fact, and a little pudgy. His dark hair was worn messy, like he hadn’t bothered to brush or style it, and he was wearing a faded t-shirt bearing some kind of cartoon character.

“Colt Peake?” Laura said, which only made him seem to shrink back behind his door even more.

“Yes,” he said, his voice a shadow of a ghost and full of doubt. His skin was pasty pale, like he didn’t spend a lot of time in the sun, and scarred with acne pits.

Laura showed him her badge; a movement in the periphery of her vision told her Agent Won had copied her motion. “My name is Special Agent Laura Frost with the FBI. I’d like to ask you a few questions. Can we come inside?”

Colt sniffed, turned, and nodded. He drifted away from the door, leaving it open, which was at least a sort of invitation. Laura stepped inside after him, mentally bracing herself. There was a chance that Colt was the killer, even if she didn’t quite believe it.

And even if he wasn’t, there was something about a basement apartment that always made her feel a little on edge.

They walked through shadows into a living room that was barely lit. There were windows high up, right at the bottom of street level, thin and narrow, but these had short blinds pulled over them anyway. The only light was the screen of a television, turned on but not in use, showing only the landing screen of a popular games console. It took up most of one wall, with the rest of the furniture consisting only of a battered old leather sofa, a coffee table littered with takeout containers and empty cans of energy drinks, and a stack of games that towered up next to the television.

Colt sat down heavily on his own sofa as Laura and Agent Won followed him, causing a stray chip to temporarily raise up into the air at the breeze of his passing. He hugged his arms tight across his chest as he sat, and then moved hastily to cover something that was sitting on the arm of the sofa – though Laura saw it before he had a chance to.

“Is that a photograph of Ashley Christianson?” she asked, almost incredulous. Surely, a killer wouldn’t leave such an obvious clue laying around and then draw even more attention to it by trying to cover it in a hurry. Not one who had the ability to drop a body in the middle of a public place without being seen.

“N-no,” Colt said, pressing his arm deeper onto the cushion he had placed on top of it, as if that was going to help him at all.

Laura simply held out her hand.

Colt swallowed, then pulled the photograph out from under the cushion and handed it to her. It was framed, but it was far from a professional photograph. It was a little blurry, showing Ashley in a plain waitress uniform of a black shirt and pants with a red apron around her waist. She was smiling at someone else, probably leaning over to take an order judging by the pad and pen in her hands. It was clear it had been taken unawares, probably by Colt sitting on the other side of the room with his phone.

“No?” Laura prompted, just to make Colt talk.

“I… I just heard about it yesterday,” Colt said, his voice sounding wretched. “I can’t believe it still. It’s… I can’t believe that she’s really gone.”

“Can’t you?” Agent Won said, speaking up. Laura felt a sinking feeling in her chest at his words. Oh, no. He was going to mess this up, wasn’t he? “I find that strange, considering that you are the person who took her life.”

Colt stared at him with his eyes so wide, it was like some unseen force was pulling them open behind his control. His already pale face paled even further, his lips quivered, and Laura realized only then that there were already tear tracks on his face. They glistened slightly in the green-tinted light from the television when he dared to turn his head.

Won had done it, now. Laura stayed silent. Better to let the suspect react than try to take control back. Maybe he would do something incriminating.

“N-no,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “No, I’m not.”

Or not.

Laura shot a warning glance at Agent Won to stay silent before continuing. “Why do you have this photograph, Colt? It doesn’t look as though Ashley knew she was being photographed here.”

“I just… I wanted to look at her,” Colt said, the words tumbling out of his mouth as though he was in no control at all. “I wanted to be able to see her all the time, even when I wasn’t at the diner. I couldn’t afford to eat there all the time.”

“But why take a photograph without her knowledge?” Laura pressed. “You could have asked her to pose with you.”

Colt’s face worked, his lips trying to form something before his tongue caught up. “I did ask her.”

“She said no.” Laura tilted her head as she looked at him, giving him a steely glare. “But you took one anyway.”

“I didn’t…” Colt was like a man made of jelly, his whole body quivering, his lips wobbling even more than the rest. “I didn’t think it would do any harm. I just wanted to see her face all the time! She’s so beautiful – was so beautiful – I just…”

He was practically falling to pieces in front of them. Laura had no doubt at all that he was innocent of murder. He might have been guilty of stalking behavior, and he was definitely a bit of a creep, but that was all. There was no way he had the strength and mental acuity to pull off this kind of attack, lay a body out in public, and then calmly call the police to tell them where to find it.

Laura had seen killers who faked it before. Even on her last case, she’d come up against a paramedic who seemed totally charming and friendly on the surface, only to later realize she’d been talking to a killer all along. But this kid? He was scared, and grieving. He’d clearly been in love with Ashley – infatuated, even. But he was weak. And not the kind of weak that led people to kill. The kind that led them to cower in basements and never do anything to change their lives.

If he had been a killer, Laura could see that it would have been sexually motivated. That was the kind of murder someone like Colt Peake would commit – he wouldn’t be able to resist getting his grubby little hands on Ashley, either before or after killing her. There didn’t seem to be that kind of angle to this case, and Colt had no connection to Evelina anyway.

They were wasting their time here, just like Detective Waters had thought.

“Did she say no to you one too many times?” Agent Won asked. “Is that why you killed her? Because if you couldn’t have her, you didn’t want anyone else to either?”

“What?” Colt said, looking at Laura as if expecting her to save him. “No!”

“What about Evelina Collins? Did she turn you down, too?”

Colt frowned, which on top of his still shocked and scared open mouth and eyes made him look like a Halloween mask. “No! I didn’t – I wouldn’t…!”

“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Won said, grabbing a pair of handcuffs that he’d had stuffed in his belt. “You’re going to have to explain this at the precinct. Colt Peake, I’m arresting you on suspicion of murder.”

And Colt Peake looked at him like he was about to burst into tears and wet himself at the same time.