Page 32 of Burn Falls

There was a brief pause.

“You need to speak out loud. Okay, Martin?” another voice asked.

“‘K.”

The first detective repeated his question. “Do you know the men who were in your house tonight?”

Martin replied, “No.”

“How many were there?”

“Two.”

“And you’ve never seen them before?”

“No.”

“What did they do when they came in? Did they knock before?”

“No. Mommy was reading to me, and then we heard a loud crash.”

“Do you know what the noise was?”

“No.”

“And then what happened?”

“Mommy told me to hide in the closet.”

“And did you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what happened next?”

There was another pause, and then Martin spoke, “I heard my mommy scream, and then she ran back into my room.”

“How do you know she ran back into the room if you were in the closet?”

“I was looking through the cracks in the door and saw her.”

“Okay. And then what happened?”

“She was trying to close the door, but it wouldn’t close, and then she wrestled with a man and then I saw blood.”

I stopped the tape, not needing to listen to it further. Martin’s mother’s throat was slashed, and the police report noted they couldn’t tell if anything was stolen. There was no sexual evidence either. The cops believed that it was supposed to be a home invasion, but before they could steal anything, a neighbor knocked on the front door because he heard my mother screaming. The report stated that the suspects fled through a back door, and that no one except Martin had seen their faces.

The report also indicated that they believe she was killed because they weren’t wearing masks and more than likely didn’t want to leave anyone around that could pick them out of a lineup. There was a sketch done of what Martin had told the police, but after two years of no leads, the case went cold.

There wasn’t much to go on in the file, but I didn’t want to let my friend down, so I figured I’d give it a try. The next few mornings after my shift, I went to known areas of town where gangs, drug dealers, and hookers roamed the streets. None of them were of age to have done the crimes, but it didn’t stop me from asking and compelling people before I left. The case was colder than my undead body, and I wasn’t looking forward to having to tell Martin I’d failed him.

My last night at Hope Haven, the staff had a cake for me and a going away party. I ate the cake, appeasing everyone, and then once my shift was over, I went home. I had no belongings other than my clothing. I always rented a furnished apartment knowing I couldn’t take anything with me when I left. Most of the clothes I’d acquired during my time in Seattle, I packed up and made a note for Martin to donate to a charity. I was only taking one suitcase with me.

My last night in Seattle, Martin and I met for drinks right after nightfall. Two drinks later, I finally broke the news to him that I couldn’t solve his mom’s murder.

“I think it’s good I’m leaving,” I stated.

“What? Why?”