Miles couldn't shake that sensation off of him no matter how hard he tried. The feeling of strong hands gripping his neck, cold against his rising temperature. His stomach churned so much that he felt like he could hurl at any moment.
The feeling that even the long awaited coffee was unable to halt.
Pity for his father.
Despite how his breathing hitched, for just a fraction of a second, he stopped at the door.
The hallway was dimly lit, the only window at the west termite eaten wall barely letting any natural sunlight. He withdrew a breath which only brought in a cloud of dust and the musty smell of rotten wood.
Miles knocked.
He could hear shuffling from inside that suddenly stopped. He pressed his ear to the door which was riddled with a number of small holes.
Would Dominic open up?
After waiting for about 20 agonizingly silent seconds, the door was finally wrenched open.
"Good aftern-oon, I'm Detective Miles. I have some questions that I'd like to ask you. Can I come in?"
Dominic's puffy, red rimmed eyes widened. He inhaled sharply before a shaky smile curled his chapped lips.
"Oh the house isn't in the best state....." He gave a nervous laugh and trailed off, rubbing his collar bone. Miles held his gaze for a few seconds after which, Dominic looked away, swallowing.
"But you can come in, it's fine." Dominic nodded before stepping back and opening up for him.
The first thing that hit him was the smell of moldy bread. The whole place was a mess.
The wooden walls were mottled with dark patches and stains, marks striking their surface. The only fan in the room was long dead, a blade tilting downward as if it would fall at any moment. Even the window looked equally neglected, a layer of dust already caked on its surface, barely hidden by the thin, worn out blue curtains that looked ages old.
Did Dominic really live in this place?
"I'm sorry about the mess- I did try to clean but I was busy and I-" Dominic cut himself short when Miles turned to look at him. He averted his eyes from him, his shoulders slightly bent and hunched over like that night in the WDG.
"No worri-es, it's fine. Let's just be-gin and get thi-s over with."
Dominic nodded and Miles waited with crossed arms. Dominic cleared out all the clothes piled on the single leather couch in the living room which was already peeling, flakes dropping to the ground with every piece of clothing he removed and flung to the suitcase.
Dominic moved aside and Miles walked to the couch before sitting. It creaked. He could even hear the subtle crackling of fabric as he tried to make himself comfortable.
Dominic walked away and then Miles suddenly noticed a number of sleeping pill boxes squeezed together into the trash which was at the rightmost corner of the room, where the dusty red carpet gave way to the plywood underneath.
Did he have insomnia? Or did he just have...
His heart jumped. He inhaled to somehow quell the queasiness in his gut.
Dominic placed the stool in front of him and slowly sat down. A tensed silence descended over them as Dominic looked around frantically, failing to hide his nervousness.
"Would you- " he started rubbing his collarbone as he said this, looking anywhere but Miles as if his growing morale would shatter to pieces once he looked at him.
"Would you like some coffee?" He finally asked. Miles already knew what he was playing at. Dominic was only trying to buy himself time, to avoid whatever thing he wanted to talk about. Despite salivating at the idea of a hot cup of coffee, he declined.
Dominic's shoulders deflated. Miles took the cue, leaning forward. He jerked his head towards the suitcase lying on the floor, a pile of clothes laid in it already.
"Were you plan-ning on running away?"
Dominic gave a forced laugh before it quickly died. He swallowed and shook his head. "No. I was simply trying to.... arrange my clothes. I just needed to clean up."
"Are yo-u sure? Or are you trying to run away beca-use of what happened to Andr-ew?"
"No! Of course not." Sweat formed a sheen along his dark forehead and his lips pulled into a shaky smile. He rubbed his collarbone.
"Who's Andrew? I have no idea who that is."
Miles narrowed his eyes. What was he hiding?
"Rea-lly? I'm pretty sure you kn-ow Dylan. He told me t-hat you were both close, v-ery close."
Dylan failed to hide a wince which he quickly tried to cover up. After numerous tries, he fell short and slumped. "Yes, I know Andrew. And yes, he was my best friend."
"And you must have heard about his death. Didn't you?" He softened his tone, watching carefully for his reaction.
Dominic swallowed. "Yes, I did."
"It must have be-en a lot to take in when you fir-st heard the news. Wh-en last di-d you see him?"
"I didn't see-"
Miles raised his right brow, his left one unyieldingly in place.
"I mean, I visited him long before he died but I haven't seen him in a while. I wanted to but there was no time you know, he has work to do in the restaurant-"
"I ask-ed when and w-here last did you se-e him?"
"Oh." Dominic shifted in his seat.
"I last saw him at the restaurant we work in, shared a cup of tea with each other and left. Nothing more than that."
Miles shook his head, the right corner of his lips pulling into a frown. "I kn-ow you're lying."
"But i-"
"I kn-ow you were with him at the WDG last week Wedn-esday. And I know he was angry about som-ething. Som-ething I believe you must know about, no?"
"Me? I- I don't know what you're talking about." Dominic stiffened, scratching his collarbone incessantly at this point.
Miles crossed his arms over his shoulders. "This sho-uld be a si-mple question to answer. So we're going to t-ry this again. Where and whe-n did you last meet bef-ore he died?"
Dominic kept quiet.
"Well then, you just confir-med everything that Dyl-an told me. You'll be tried as soon as the prosecutor h-ears this."
"Wait, for what?"
"For murder. Life imprisonment wouldn't look so bad on you."
"What? You can't be serious. I had nothing to do with it!"
Miles looked at him with a blank stare. "Th-en why do you always become so tense whe-never you hear Andrew's name? You've b-een acting suspicious ever since And-rew was foun-d dead."
"But- but I wasn't the one that killed him. I couldn't! He's my best friend."
"There are ma-ny people who kill-ed their own family th-at said just that."
"But seriously, I didn't!"
"So pro-ve it. Prove th-at you did-n't kill Andrew."
"I-" he stopped as if caught between himself, suddenly unable to speak.
Miles sighed before standing up. "W-ell then, I guess I better be goin-"
"Wait!"
Miles turned back to him. Dominic was trembling all over, sweat pearling his brow as he continued to rub his collarbone.
"We last hung out at a bar. Neon Nexus." His voice was heavy, trembling at the last two words.
"What day was that?"
"Wednesday. Last week."
After last week's WDG....
Dominic closed his eyes and inhaled sharply.
Miles laid a hand on his shoulder, prodding him on. "What happened?"
Dominic's were brimmed with tears by the time he opened his eyes again. He blinked them away. "Andrew was mad. I've never seen him that angry ever since we became friends."
"He said he wanted to drink, get out of his head, you know? That's why we were there."
Dominic swallowed again, "I never had been a fan of drinking but I knew he needed me to be there to drive him home. Leaving a drunk to drive is not the... wisest of things." He laughed but there was an edge to it, one that seemed to pierce him making a faraway look gloss over his eyes before he came to.
"This girl, she came over and started trying to force herself on him. He got mad and he-" Dominic cut himself short, his hand trembling. Miles squeezed his shoulder.
"He beat her up and all I did was watch like the stupid coward I was. " Dominic's tone soured, colored with self loathing.
"But yo-u took her to the hos-pital, right?"
"I did. But they weren't able to save her."
"Her name was Sophia. I stayed with her in the hospital, holding on to the hope that she would live. That she wouldn't have to die because of Andrew."
Miles could almost hear the unfinished part of the sentence.That she wouldn't have to die because of him.
"You know at some point, before she died, she thanked me. She-" he cut himself off, blinking.
"She smiled at me, even though I was right there when her attacker was beating her to a pulp. And I haven't ever seen anything more beautiful than that. " His tone became wistful, as if he could see it at this moment. In this house where his only companions were the dust and the emptiness that clogged the air, hanging like an ever growing dark cloud in the sky.
"I haven't been able to get her out of my mind ever since. If I had just being stronger, if I had just tried-"
Miles stood in front of him before tapping him as back, trying to will him out of his despair. "Look, thi-s is n-ot your fault. Andrew did this, not you. You did what you could do, that's what matters, alright?"
Dominic nodded, his eyes more bloodshot than they were when he first came in.
"Besides, if you ha-d tried to stop An-drew, it could have led to some-thing else...."
They both elapsed into another small silence before Miles took charge again, noticing that Dominic even though still looked little bit shaken, he was noticeably more at ease.
"You said An-drew was angry th-at night, right? W-hy?"
"It was about the engagement."
"Engagement?"
"You know Sebastian proposed to Alicia. It was all over the news. Got a front row seat to it too."
Miles raised an eyebrow.
"Since he's dead anyway, no need to hide it any longer.... " Dominic forced a smile.
"Andrew and Alicia had always been romantically involved, somehow... It's ... kind of complicated. But that's how we both started waiting at the WDG in the first place. He was going to tell her that night but the engagement blew it all up in his face. He'd already prepared a card, a ring and everything."
So those letters must have been addressed to Alicia then.
"That expl-ains a lot."
"Yeah."
Miles was about to take his leave when he suddenly remembered, "Do you by cha-nce have any idea wh-ere Sophia lived? Or do you kn-ow who her pare-nts are by chance."
"I don't know where she lives with her mom. But I do know she's going to be buried today at the cemetery."
***
The cemetery was quiet. Night was fast approaching as the formerly blue afternoon sky was now shaded by a violent orange, the sun slowly dipping from its peak. The smell of moist soil skimmed through the air, overshadowed by the sharp tang of an expensive perfume.
One too powerful to dismiss.
Miles stopped at this headstone, where a woman stood before it, her back turned to him. She was dressed in a bright flay pink dress, pink sandals strapped to her feet. Even her blonde hair had streaks of pink peeking through it. She added color to the otherwise dark and dreary environment around her.
The headstone that she stood in front of was nothing much. All it had was her name- Sophia Wade.
Miles continued until he stopped right beside the woman.
"I'm sorr-y for yo-ur loss." He said, staring at the headstone for a few seconds longer. If he had the power he would shut down every single bar in town.
Drinking was such a pain.
The woman turned to him, and he noticed her eyelashes, thick with mascara. Either way, she looked normal as though she weren't here for her daughter's burial.
"Who are you?"
Miles noticed a long scar at the side of her neck, a gaping slash that seemed older than the layers of makeup that she had worn over her face.
"Detective Miles." He moved to shake her hand but she simply averted her gaze. His hand fell limp at his sides.
"You knew her?"
"No, no-t personally. But I hea-rd about what happened and I just wan-ted to offer my condolen-ces."
"Pish posh. I don't need it. She's gone, the business continues. Life will go on just fine." She gave him a tight lipped smile.
And her expression said she meant it. She looked vaguely bored of it all, even as though being here was ruining her whole schedule and plan of events.
"So you're not eve-n the slightest bit concer-ned about her death?" He only managed to keep his annoyance at bay.
She turned to him, unimpressed. "Should I be? Don't act so holy and mighty on me. That's how the world is. She was killed by a man? So what? If she'd been better at her one and only job, maybe she'd be alive right now. Crying over a useless mistake is a waste of time."
"B-ut she was yo-ur daughter."
"I was my father's daughter but that didn't stop him from kicking me out and beating me to a pulp when he found out I was pregnant with the mistake. That's the sad truth about life. Of course, a proper family man like you can't deal with something so horrible."
Miles didn't rise to her bait. She flicked her hair over her shoulder.
"That's despica-ble."
"That's the world, family man. If you aren't of use, you get disposed. She was already accruing losses for me so the fool did all the work if throwing her out. Didn't even have to get my hands dirty." She laughed a little, a soft soronous laugh that only grated against his ears. His skin crawled at the smile on her face.
The woman turned on her heel and began to walk away. Miles could only stare after her.
How do people think of such a thing?
But despite how cruel it was, it struck a chord within him. His mother.
He could almost hear her velvety voice, always cajoling Bella to go extreme lengths to keep her face intact. He remembered her endless doting on how she looked and that she always looked stunning wherever she went.
And for the first time in his life, he wondered, what had it been like for Bella to live with their mother?