"Wait, who again?" Edward inquired, standing by the door, an empty bowl in one hand while his other rested on the doorknob.
Jesse marched out after Mdachi, yawning and stretching his arms as he trudged down to his bedroom-in endeavours to go brush his teeth.
Anita watched him pass her with crossed arms.
She turned back to Edward. "Detective Bharat," she explained.
Mdachi, with the tray of empty utensils, marched away towards the kitchen while chewing on something-a pastry, most likely.
"Detective who?" Edward seemed confused, shutting the door behind him.
"Edward, are you hard of hearing, perhaps?" Anita seemed exasperated.
"Sorry, I just... can't seem to fathom it."
"That's because he came to your house after we had left. On the day of Hallington's funeral," Anita explained as they walked down the corridor.
"So he just happened to run into you guys in the park?"
"Well, according to Auntma, your dad wouldn't have him question them on the same day they had sent off their friend."
Edward smiled faintly at that.
"So, as he was driving to your place the following day, he happened to see us in the park."
Edward recoiled with furrowed brows. He raised one. "In the park?" he echoed sceptically, then collected himself before questioning her. "How did he see you guys in the park? Weren't you smack dab-"
"Shady. I know," Anita cut him short. "But trust me, you and I aren't the only ones that dislike him."
"Bharat..." Edward carried on. "Is he..."
"He's Indian, yeah," Anita clarified.
They walked into the adjacent corridor.
"With gorgeous hair and stuff."
"So is that how you found me? With his help?"
"Well..." Anita sucked in her teeth. "Not really."
"See, he only helped us remember to track you down by your phone. Something we hadn't thought of. Plus, your mother didn't want police involvement so hastily without knowing what had really happened to you."
Edward recalled-though for the brevity of a moment-how Anita had told him his mother was feeling the entire time. Her devastation, her desperation, her erraticness, and most importantly, the deep, inexplicable fear she had for him.
It settled something warm and gratifying in him-despite the moral implications of it.
He turned to Anita. "You've been narrating to me what happened after us parting ways, but I still don't get where you disrespected your mother."
"Si utulie upangwe," Anita complained, though gently.
"Wow!" Edward exclaimed as they branched the corner into the dining room space, walking past it and toward the living room.
"Kiswahili. I like it."
"Ugh!" Anita rolled her eyes, catching a glimpse of Mdachi smiling amusingly in the kitchen.
"Seriously, guys!" She stopped.
Edward did too.
"I've grown up in Kenya just like you! Hello?! Why do you always beba me like I can't speak or understand Swahili?"
"Maybe because you can't?" Edward prompted with a shrug, his face all smiles-mischievously.
Feeling defeated, Anita raised her hands. "You know what? Nimeacha. Nimechoka." She let them fall exhaustedly beside her.
"Even your accent sounds weird," Jesse added from behind them.
They turned back to see him standing at the corridor's arched entrance, a cute toothbrush in his mouth and bits of foam on his lips.
Anita sneered at him.
He just shrugged before walking off.
Mdachi couldn't help but burst into laughter in the kitchen.
Anita-once again-felt exasperated.
Her eyes twitched.
Edward cautiously placed his hands on her shoulders and led her to the living room.
He sat her down on a couch.
Mdachi was still laughing-his wheezing as loud as it was silent.
"Tell me, Nits," Edward began, taking Anita's hands in his. He sat on the adjacent couch, facing the TV. "How did you guys find me then?"
Anita turned to him, her eyes softening with resolve. There was something tenderly sincere in his.
She took a breath before beginning. "Well, since the GPS led us to the school, your aunt ended up finding the phone under lockers in the hall where you were attacked by that Caucasian man."
Edward leaned in more.
"We had separated upon entering the school in efforts to find you. I was with Mdachi."
Mdachi had stopped laughing.
"So, after your aunt and the rest had found your phone, my mother tried to come and convince Mdachi and me to head back home to Jesse, where we would have been 'safe'."
Edward's face twisted.
"I refused, of course, causing a whole scene, hence the disparage my mother was talking about."
Her eyes lifted slowly toward Edward, the corner of her mouth twisting into something bitter.
Mdachi now leaned against the kitchen's entrance with a sombre expression, his arms and legs crossed.
"We were so scared, Edward," Anita's voice cracked. Tears threatened to spill. "I was so scared that when I saw the footage of you being ambushed and kidnapped, my heart almost leaped out of my chest. I don't think I was conscious of myself in that brevity of time."
Edward's hands squeezed around hers firmly.
Anita used her other hand to dab her eyes so she wouldn't cry.
She collected herself, speaking more clearly. "So, after that is when the matter of 'finding you' really came into execution."
Edward's brows furrowed.
Mdachi stepped forth. "We came back here to do a tracking spell on you. And according to the experts, it was the less intrusive one."
Edward's brows furrowed deeper.
"You see..." Mdachi stepped closer, his arms still crossed. "Your mother needed to come back here 'cause she needed something that belonged to you. Like a clothe? And you did have some here. She couldn't go to your house 'cause your father was present, and, as it may have been mentioned, he apparently has no knowledge of the supernatural-just like you didn't."
Edward's brows shot up. He hadn't thought much on the matter-but it sure as hell perplexed him.
He blinked. "So, how exactly was I found?" he asked, almost with a frown.
Anita exhaled.
"Your mom used your clothe in a tracking ritual." She turned to look back briefly before looking back at Edward. "One that I think has still been left set up at the garden in the back."
Edward didn't know how to react to that. "...Okay?"
Anita wished she had the spirit to explain the spell's procedure to him, but she pressed on to something else. "Did you feel anything intrusive all of a sudden while in the forest? Like something was expelling you from your own body?"
She didn't know if it was the modest thing to do, to ask about an unordinary sensual experience when he was probably terrified out of his wits. But God, she wished she knew what had happened to him in that forest besides the stated. They all did.
She bit her lip in anticipation.
Edward's eyes looked down in deep recollection.
It hit him!
He jolted backwards promptly, raising a finger. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
He stood up, pacing about, his finger still raised. "I remember it now. Vividly."
It felt like he'd just stumbled upon a life-changing revelation.
Mdachi watched him with intrigue.
"I was falling through the canopies when I had that apotheosis. Right before Edric caught me."
Mdachi recoiled. Apotheosis? Wait, better one; falling through the canopies? Edric catching him?!
Anita's brows shot through the sky. Those trees were TALL. And what did he mean by falling through their canopies? What did he mean by Edric saving him? Edric, the same charming, stylish, sophisticated new student at school? Edric the terramic?! What was going on, really?!
This was why Anita was eager for Edward to tell them what happened. But she couldn't push him. She would never.
"Woah!" Jesse exclaimed from behind them.
They turned to see him standing by his shocked mother past the corridor's entrance.
Jenevive blinked rapidly.
"Mind blown," Jesse added in finality. He was in casual attire now.
The doorbell chimed.
Jenevive rushed to it.
"Your mother and aunt are here," she announced before branching into the foyer.
She welcomed them in before shutting the door behind them.
Renee smelt the atmosphere immediately she stepped into the living room. "Woah! Kuna nini?"
---
Jarold was rushing out of his house in a smart-casual outfit when he stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at the rascal in front of him. His smile dropped instantly from his face.
Tigean.
He shifted his slim black handbag onto his other hand, squinting hard through his blue-tinted glasses at the young girl on his lawn steps.
"Tigean..." Jarold croaked out, his tone all formal. This kid was persistent. It was a surprise that, with all those years of being Mrs. Wanjiku's neighbour-the old, reserved lady-they had never known of her. At all.
"Papa Edward," Tigean called back, her hands clasped together in front of her-the left corner of her shortalls' bib folding inward.
"I'm sorry, kid, but Edward didn't come back yesterday, so I wasn't able to deliver your 'classified' message."
Tigean stared at him for a long time before suddenly beaming into an ear-to-ear smile-horrifying.
Jarold silently shuddered. Maybe there were more definitions of intimidation than he knew.
"Okay!" Tigean announced avidly, her eyes practically basking.
"...Okay..." Jarold acknowledged, nodding slowly, secretly calculating the strides he needed to sprint to get to his car if it came to it.
Without much more talk, Tigean skipped-literally-back to her own house-that unnerving expression still all over her profile.
Jarold watched her as she went, stopping only when she stepped onto their porch-his vision obscured by the bay window of the room he used as his study in his house.
He looked down and just sighed. "Gen Z."
His phone blared suddenly. He picked it up.
"Kama, mambo," Jarold greeted.
The person at the other end of the line stayed quiet.
"Jarold, why did you contact me?" they finally asked, their tone all sour. A man.
"Acha hizo, Kama," Jarold schmoozed. "Si unajua tumetoka mbali."
"Yeah. Just as vile tuliachana. What was it? Twelve-eleven years ago?"
"Don't pout now-"
"Jarold, mbona umenipigia?" Kama sounded exhausted.
"I need a favour, old friend," Jarold finally admitted.
Kama chuckled. It persisted into a laugh. A dry, humourless one. But he still laughed.
Jarold just rolled his eyes. He knew this would come-amongst much more.
Kama finally stopped laughing, but there was still an edge to his tone. "The great! The mighty! The eminent! Doctor Jarold Tuweku is seeking help from me? Me? But just a humble and simple law enforcer?"
Jarold groaned. "Come on, Kama. You know you're more than that. The Detective Chief Inspector of the Directorate of Homicide Investigations. Of the DCI!"
"Pwoooffff! Mind-blowing!"
"I get the gist, Jarold," Kama clipped. He sighed. "What do you want help with? Hope you didn't kill someone," he warned, then his tone turned sinister, hissing, "Cause I'd enjoy seeing you rot behind bars."
"Ew! No! I'm married. Plus, I'm not a murderer."
"A friend of mine-a good friend of my son's-was murdered in his own house in the most gruesome and sanguine of ways. Just last week. We had him sent off juzi before his cremation. The case is too baffling, though, with very suspicious qualities that I just can't seem to figure out."
"Hmm. What qualities?"
"For instance, he's left most of his properties and wealth to my son. His house, the murder scene, has already been released and is currently under renovation for the new owner. And lastly but not least, his own Canadian family hasn't shown face in the transpiry of all of this. They've only sold his house, which they had claim to, and claimed his ashes."
Kama was quiet for a while. He finally spoke. "Oh my God, so... you mean to say... a Canadian guy... White or-"
"White."
"Yeah, so a white Canadian man... who was... how old?"
"Thirty-seven."
"And occupation?"
"Umm..." Jarold drifted off. "I don't quite know. I just know that he studied real estate. Just like my wife."
"Well then, assuming he was discreetly a realtor, at 37 years. And I'm gonna assume he was a bachelor since you haven't mentioned anything contrary."
"He was."
"He had his will already written? No dangerous job that had him putting his life on the line every day? And recently murdered? Interesting."
"He had his will made three months ago. One of the suspicious things about it."
"Way to bury the lead, then, Jarold!" Kama flared. "You seriously haven't changed."
"Kama," Jarold warned.
"Well then, the date of creation of the will gives it heavy weight. You should come to the office to talk more on it. And if possible, bring the will. I'll be happy to help out an old friend."
Jarold caught something in the way he said friend. He brushed it off. "Oh, and my wife said hi to you," he muttered, walking down the porch steps.
"Say hi to her too and Edward," Kama responded warmly. He perked up. "We should actually do a family reunion at that! So that I see how the boy has grown. He must be a menace now."
Jarold sighed as he approached his car on the driveway. "I wish he wasn't."
"So, you coming?"
"Nakuja. Tulia."
"Okay."
The call cut immediately.
Jarold stared at his phone for a while before shoving it into his bag. Typical Kama.
He rounded to the other side of the car, opened it, and got in.
The air in it smelled woodsy and of musk.
Perfect.
He started the engine. It hummed to life.
With his hands resting on the steering wheel, Jarold stared at the garage's door in front of him. "Nafaa kuita huyo technician tena," he muttered to himself, then started backing up into the street.
He straightened out before driving straight ahead, past house 253.
Tigean watched him go from the porch swing she was swaying on, her tablet in hand. She got up and set the tablet on a glass coffee table in front of her before rounding to the back of the house.
Her grandmadhe was not around. It was just her. Like it had been for some time before her grandmadhe found her.
"Mammi, Baba, nta-make sure I've brought justice to you. Your murderers will PAY."
Without another word, Tigean sprinted full ahead towards the fence between theirs and Edward's house-her movements a weave.
She leaped onto the outdoor dining table before hurling herself into a side flip, landing seamlessly on the ground-on the other side of the fence.
"Nailed it!" she muttered.
Standing up, Tigean walked straight to the ribbon of window wells, knelt down, and peeked through, her face pressed against a glass panel.
She saw it immediately. Her camera. Sitting comfortably amongst other things in the basket tray on the shelf beside a wall.
"Bingo!" She beamed, standing up and tapping her index finger to her chin. "Now, how to get inside and snatch it without triggering the security alarm system..."
She stepped further away from the house and scanned it, taking in its vastness and bits of the subtle placement of Kalamari Wood.
The house was made of stone. They all were. But there were still many places where wood was used to build it. Places like the porch. Places where she noticed that familiarly unique wood used to keep out malevolent or uninvited supernatural.
She smiled. Sleek placement spots for those who didn't have a discerning eye. But as she did, an idea lit up in her head. Her smile grew wider.
Tigean was grateful she wasn't a supernatural.