Hit and Run
“Get outta here!” the bouncer yelled at a group of boys as he grabbed a tall scraggly one by the arm and threw him out on the curb. The rest of the boys followed their friend out willingly, beers in hands and flushed faces all scrunched up from holding in laughter and having too much too drink. As the tattoo covered bouncer slammed the heavy metal doors, the boys released a flood of laughter and collapsed on each other for support. The insulted boy hopped up off the curb and ripped a beer bottle out of his friends hand, threw it against the brick wall and yelled “Or what?!” another bouncer guarding the entrance turned their way and and the boys yelled with excitement as they scrambled away from the club. The rain was dumping down and layers of fog covered any stars that would’ve been visible after the light pollution. As the boys said their goodbye and went their separate ways, the tall one ventured down a dark and quiet street. He stumbled to catch the last bus of the night. Swerving through empty lanes and squinting through their blurred windshield, a driver on their way back from a dinner party realized they had passed their exit. They quickly swung into a side road. A loud and heavy thud hit the windshield, shattered it, and covered the driver in broken glass and blood. Maybe it was the shock, or maybe it was the alcohol, but the driver jerked the car in reverse, rolled the body off the hood, and drove away, an left the tall scraggly boy dead on the curb.
It had been three days since a washed up body was found on the muddy shore of the Sienna River. A Local fisherman stumbled upon the cold, decomposing corpse of a teenage girl on his way back from an early morning catch. The distressed parents of the young girl, Trina Murphy, hired an out of town private investigator to find their daughters killer, knowing full well that the police were not capable of solving anything greater than that of Mrs. Landers stolen garden gnomes. It was a friday when the PI rolled into town in her shiny black car with tinted windows. After checking in at a homely B and B that smelled of old lady and cats, she drove up town to the morgue.
Although the PI had taken many murder cases she never got used to the sight of dead bodies, especially when they were just children. The moritian rolled out the cadaver and the PI felt her plain bagel and $1 coffee she bought from the gas station try to inch its way back up her throat. She pushed it down and crouched closer to examine the body. The mortician began to read off the autopsy. Suffocation. The murder looked messy to the PI, impulsive and unplanned. Signs of struggle from fighting off the attacker were revelved from the bruises and scratches that covered Trina’s limp body. The PI then left the morgue, taking the brown folder of information with her, and drove over to question her first suspect.
Ian couldn’t believe she was gone. He didn’t love her or anything, but Trinna was still his first girlfriend, and even before that his friend. His shaggy blonde hair bounced to the rhythm of his steps as he walked down the stairs to answer the pounding on the door. He opened the door to reveal a strange lady, maybe in her early 30s, with raven like black hair slicked tightly back in a low bun.
“Can I help you?” Ian asked the lady in the navy blue blazer.
“Hi, i’m Katherine Gallagher” the PI stated calmly.
“I’m looking into the murder of Trina Murfey. are you Ian?” The boy shook his head cautiously.
“Hi Ian, i’d like to ask to ask you a few questions if that’s all right.” Ian checked behind his shoulder before he stepped outside on the front porch and closed the door behind him.
“Okay, but you have to be quick, my mom’s down stairs and she doesn’t want me talking about Trina. She thinks it will make too upset.” The scrawny boy placed his hands in his oversized jean pockets and swayed nervously back and forth. The PI nodded understandingly and followed Ian to the front of the porch.
“You two were dating?” Katherine asked waiting for confirmation.
“We were, but we broke up.” Ian mumbled as he changed his gaze from the porch floor to a gutter that slowly released raindrops from the earlier storm.
“It happened about 2 month ago, she met some guy online then told me it was over.”
Ian regretted not fighting for her. Maybe she would’ve been alive if they were still together. Maybe he could have protected her if they were still friends. Ian and Kathrine talked for a while about the breakup, about what he knew of the boy, which wasn’t much except he was a college student over at Tennessee state, and Katherine wrote down his alibi. Lacrosse practice.
“I gotta get back in” Ian pointed behind him and gave Kathrine a weak smile. Kathrine thanked him for his time and walked passed the once white minivan parked in the driveway. Kathrine noticed that the hood was a slightly different color, probably due to replacing it. As Katharine got in her car she noticed Ian’s mom standing out on the front porch, staring intently at her. Katherine waved then headed back to her B and B.
Looking through Trina’s phone, everything seemed normal, she wasn’t bullied, she didn’t have any threatening texts or unrecognizable numbers. She read through every text, but there was nothing about the mysterious internet boy. She reached through Triana’s photo album and began to scroll through all the picture of school dances and horse back riding camp.The only unusual thing was screenshots of an article about a hit in run that happened ten years ago in North California. Why would Trina be interested in something that happened when she was 6 and all the way on the other side of the country. Maybe a school project? Kathrine read through the articles. A boy in his early twenties was killed by a drunk driver. They never found the person who killed William Murphy. Why would Trina keep all these screenshots of her brothers death. Kathrine put the articles aside and continued looking the pictures to find the internet boy.