Page 69 of Beneath Her Skin
3
ALEXIS
N ews of Amara’s murder spread like wildfire throughout the hospital, leaving everyone in a daze. The heavy, dense fog of grief weighed on the staff like a suffocating blanket of despondence. Masking my heartbreak and pain with a cold indifference, I sat on the edge of the vacant hospital bed, letting my legs hang towards the floor; the melancholy chatter and shared condolences between hospital staff were muffled in my ears as I tried to tune them out and dissociate. Amara’s blood stained my scrubs and my hands as I sat there, fidgeting with the engagement ring I gave her on our anniversary.
Looking down at the deep green of the blood-stained emerald, I fought to keep my tears at bay. I remembered the exact moment my eyes found this ring in the display case at the vintage jewelry store that Amara loved. It was a two-carat princess cut emerald, set in gold, and surrounded by a halo of smaller emeralds. Intricate swirls and flourishes of gold swooped around the center emerald, making up the band. It was exquisite, bold, beautiful… just like my Amara. The emerald matched the color of her eyes, solidifying it as the perfect ring for the love of my life.
“Alexis Grant?” a quiet, feminine voice called from the doorway. I heard whomever it was say my name, but my mind was lost, shattering with my heart.
“Alexis?” the voice said gently, as the door to the room closed. Soft footsteps towards me pulled me out of the abyss of my psyche.
Tracing the emerald on Amara’s ring with my thumb, I was hyper-focused on the sensation of the prongs of the emerald’s setting caressing my finger as I traced circles around the stone. My eyes never left my hand as I forced myself to speak.
“Yes?” The word was barely a whisper as tears stung the backs of my eyes.
“Alexis, I’m detective Catalina Wallace, with the LAPD’s homicide unit; I will be working on your fiancée’s case and?—”
“You’ll do whatever it takes to catch her killer. Blah, blah, blah. I don’t need your fake sympathy right now, detective,” I spat. “Won’t change a fucking thing; she’ll still be gone.”
“I know this is a very difficult time, but I need you to try to tell me everything that happened before you found Miss Peterson,” she said, pulling a small, spiral-top notepad and pen from her pocket.
With a sigh, I forced my eyes to look at this detective. She tucked her shoulder-length black hair behind her ear; her sapphire blue eyes were kind and gentle as she was ready to write. There was something about her, something… calming. Fighting my tears again, I lowered my eyes back to Amara’s ring on my finger, telling her everything.
How I had the strange missed call, hearing a mystery door close as I approached Amara’s office, seeing her pool of blood forming, seeing the cord to her phone cut…
Detective Wallace took notes silently, allowing me to speak slowly, patiently giving me time to recount what happened. Suddenly, I remembered Amara’s finger on my arm… Turning my arm slightly so only I could see, I could make out three shaky letters written in her blood on my skin.
D…A…?
“Was there anything out of the ordinary in her office besides the cut phone cord?” Detective Wallace asked, making me jump.
Why did this feel like a message just for me…? Should I tell this detective…?
“No, nothing out of the ordinary,” I said with a sniffle, rubbing it on my scrubs to erase the letters. “Both of our job duties are so different, so we don’t see much of each other during the day. She’s in the office, and I’m with my patients.”
“Can you walk me through what you did once you discovered Miss Peterson in her office?”
“I called the emergency line on my work phone and ran up to her, checking for a pulse, but noticed she was still conscious and struggling to breathe. Her… Her…” My voice broke, and I cleared my throat, trying to maintain my composure. “H-her throat was cut, and she was struggling to breathe. I tried looking around for something to help intubate her, when Dr. Sanchez came in and…”
“Okay, we can stop there, Miss Grant,” Detective Wallace said softly, as a soft knock on the door drew both of our attention. She closed her notepad and opened the door just enough to see who it was.
“Miss Grant?—”
“Alexis. I don’t need the formalities,” I interrupted, returning my attention to Amara’s ring.
“Of course, Alexis. This is Mia, one of our crime scene technicians. We need to collect your scrubs and take a few swabs for evidence. It’s standard procedure; nothing to worry about,” Detective Wallace said as Mia stepped towards me.
“Dr. Sanchez brought these for you,” Mia said with a soft smile, placing a neatly folded pile of fresh scrubs and a pair of flip-flop sandals on the foot of the hospital bed.
She was a curvy bottle blonde, with her hair piled on the top of her head in a messy bun, and a large supply bag slung over one shoulder. Her chocolate brown eyes scanned the state of my bloody scrubs as she pushed her black-rimed glasses up on her nose.
“Okay, are you ready?” Mia asked, placing her bag down and pulling on a pair of latex gloves.
“I um… I suppose so…” Scooting myself off the edge of the bed to stand, Detective Wallace pulled the surrounding curtain to block the door.
“I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable; I promise we’ll make this quick so you can go home,” Detective Wallace said, pulling on her own pair of gloves.
All I could do was nod as she approached me.
“Do you have anything in your chest pocket?” Mia asked, pointing to the very obvious bulge in my pocket.
“Yeah, just my pens, my phone and my keys.” Reaching into my pocket, my fingertips grazed the flash drive I’d swiped from Amara’s computer monitor.
I’m sure the hidden camera we had set up captured everything. But, for some reason, I decided I needed to keep it to myself… It would show quite a few spicy moments we shared on her desk; not that I minded a little audience, but this burning feeling began to build in my core. I needed to watch this and see who was responsible for Amara’s death, so I could end them myself…
Carefully avoiding the flash drive, I pulled out my small key ring and two ballpoint pens from my shirt’s pocket, placing them on the hospital bed. I also unclipped my hospital ID from the collar of my top, adding it to the pile on the bed.
How am I going to hide this flash drive so they don’t see it…?
“Okay, let’s start with this,” Mia said, approaching me with a swab kit. “Can you hold your hands out, palm-side down, please?”
I obeyed, holding my bloodied hands out towards Mia. She took a swab of the blood on the tops of both my hands and scraped under my fingernails.
“I’m going to swab your cheek to sample your DNA so we can differentiate yours from hers. I’m assuming you two were sexually intimate?” Mia asked. It was strange to be asked so outright, but her tone remained calm and empathetic.
“Yes, she is… she was my fiancée. We had a healthy, um… sexual relationship.”
I stood there, numb, allowing them to swab and sample anything they needed. All I could think about was how I’d get that flash drive home with me without two professional crime scene and law enforcement people noticing.
“Okay, Alexis, time for your scrubs. Please pull off the top and hand over to Mia,” Detective Wallace instructed gently.
Slipping my arms first into my shirt, I held onto the flash drive through the fabric as I pulled it up and over my head. Before pulling both hands free, I managed to slip it out of the pocket and close my hand around it.
Handing over my top to Mia, she placed it in a plastic evidence bag and scribbled out some information on the bag. While Detective Wallace and Mia had their attention on the bag, I slipped the flash drive into my bra.
“Alright, go ahead and kick off your shoes, and we’ll collect those and your pants, then you will be all done,” Detective Wallace said, keeping her eyes soft and gentle.
“Sure…”
Once they had everything they needed, I pulled on the fresh pair of scrubs and sandals with a sigh.
“All I need are my ID, phone, and my keys,” I said, motioning to the bed.
“Yes, of course. You can take those with you,” Mia said with a smile. “I’m so sorry to have met you this way; my deepest condolences for your loss.”
“Thanks…”
Mia gathered everything and slipped herself out of the room, leaving me alone with Detective Wallace.
“Here’s mine and my partner’s card. We’ll both be on your fiancée’s case, and we’ll contact you with updates as soon as we have them.” She flipped open her notebook and handed me her pen. “Would you mind writing your best contact phone number here?”
I scribbled my information on her notepad with a sniffle.
“The coroner is bringing Amara down now, if you’d like to come with me and accompany her to the van?” Detective Wallace placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and I nodded, following her to the elevators to the lobby.
Every employee of Hope Center stood in the lobby, leaving an aisle for us to walk through. With one of my hands, I held onto the gurney; Amara’s blood now dried on my skin as we pushed her through the crowd.
I couldn’t look at anyone. All I could do was keep my gaze locked on the body bag as we pushed her towards the entrance and out to the van.