Through Thick and Thin

“I can’t sleep. I’m trying, I just can’t. I can’t even shut my fucking eyes without seeing it all over again. What do I do Trish? I’m so tired. Just tell me what to do. Please!” Rachel Turner begged of her longtime friend Trisha Perkins.

Trish let her cell phone rest against her neck as she tried to figure out what advice to give knowing that Rachel was anxiously waiting on the other end of the line. The truth was she didn’t know what to tell her. And frankly, what could she tell her? Trish had never been in the position that Rachel was in now. That girl’s life had been turned upside down and would never be the same. Trish had served as Rachel’s go-to therapist slash mentor for years and for the first time Trish had no idea what to tell her.

“Trish?” Rachel chimed, the sound of another crying fit bubbling within her tone. 

“I’m here babe. I’m here. I just…I don’t know what to tell you. I want to make you feel better. So badly. It kills me that you’re in so much pain and there isn’t anything I can do. Do you think it would help to talk through it again? Maybe if you just talk it through, it will ease the shock. You can start to lean on the fact that it’s over. It is done. It happened, but it is all done now.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve already told the police the story five times and every time I tell it, it just gets more detailed in my mind and it’s like I am re-living it over and over. I just want to forget it. This isn’t what I wanted Trish! I just wanted a new start. I just wanted to have some fun and instead…” she trailed off before she could finish the sentence. 

“I know this is hard Rach. I know it is. I’m not going to pretend to know what you’re going through, but I know it is damn hard. The police are the police. They deal with this kind of thing all the time, especially in Chicago. But this is me you’re talking to. We have had a million conversations just like this one. Just breathe, in and out, and walk me through it again, nice and slow. I am right here. Just try,” Trish encouraged. 

“Okay…I’ll try. I was at the Clover Club. I just wanted a night out, you know? I’ve always wanted to be a reporter; you know how bad I’ve always wanted that. I just had no idea what kind of sacrifice it takes to make it. I haven’t had a day off in two weeks. I’ve been working thirteen or fourteen hours a day. I barely have time to shower or eat.”

“I know it babe. You’ve been working so hard,” Trish said calmly. 

“And I don’t mind it. Like I am not afraid of the work, it’s just…I don’t know. I’m not even into the club scene, I can count on one hand how many drinks I’ve had in the last year. And I have never gone to a place like that alone. But I finally had a chance to go and do something for myself. I thought I would have a couple drinks, maybe a cute guy would ask for my number, something. If nothing else, I could just people watch and at least it would be something different than my cubical or my bedroom ceiling.”

It was getting to the part of the story where things turned bad. Rachel didn’t have to say it, Trish knew. She’d heard parts and pieces already, but if that wasn’t enough, the deep pause that Rachel took before continuing made it clear. She was having to mentally prepare before going on and probably needing to make sure she could get through it without exploding in an emotional eruption again. After a few more seconds that felt like hours, she continued. 

“Well, none of that happened. Except the people watching part. The only guys in the whole place were creeps and the bar was so packed I couldn’t even get a drink. I should have just called you to come with me, I don’t know why I didn’t, I guess I just wanted a little time for me. Anyways, it didn’t go like I thought so I was just going to go home, and binge eat my Ben and Jerrys. I ordered an uber, but the idiot parked on the wrong street. It takes fucking forever to get an uber, you know how the city is. So, I didn’t want to miss it. The only way to get to him without walking all the way around the block was through the alleyway.”

She took a few more deep breaths before going on. 

“I know I shouldn’t have even gone into the alley. Like clearly that is a horrible idea, but I just wanted to get home and I didn’t want to wait for another uber. I got about halfway down it when I saw two people leaning against a wall at the far end. At first, I thought it was a couple. Or maybe some guy and a hooker. But then I saw the knife.” 

Rachel finally broke down. Trish swore she could feel the tears flowing out of her end of the phone. Her friend had been through hell and the fact was she would never be the same again. She had a million things she wanted to say, but instead she let Rachel have this moment and instead chose to listen. Rachel was able to regain her composure after about a minute and slowly continued her story. 

“The one with the knife had their hand on the guy’s mouth so his screams were muffled. No one outside of the alley would have heard him, but I did. I did…it was the most horrific sound I have ever heard Trish. That and the sound of the knife. I’ve seen that kind of thing in movies, but it doesn’t sound anything like that in real life. It just sounded like something hitting him over and over again in the stomach. I…I just froze. I didn’t know what to do and I couldn’t get my legs to move. It was like my feet were nailed to the ground.” 

“It’s okay babe. Just breath. It’s all over, it’s just a story now. Take it a little bit at a time, there is no rush,” Trish assured her. 

Rachel took a deep breath in as her friend had suggested and let out a heavy exhale.

“Then the one with the knife pulled it out of his stomach and…and…cut his throat. Oh my god it was so awful Trish. I could see the shadow of the blood just…ugh. That was when I finally was able to run. I ran as fast as I could back to the street screaming at the top of my lungs, wanting help from someone. Anyone. But by the time anyone came the killer was gone. The police did whatever they do with a crime scene and took my statement. They made me give it to them five times like I was making it up or something.” 

“What? Like they thought you might be the killer?” Trish asked.

“I guess. They called it standard procedure, but it felt like they were waiting for me to change something in my story or slip up. I don’t know, whatever. They said they are going to follow up with me, maybe even still tonight for more info or to give me an update. They told me not to leave town, can you believe that?”

“I would just do what they tell you honey. It sounds like you might be a suspect until they find the real killer and you don’t want to do anything to make them think they are right,” Trish advised. 

“You’re right. I just want to forget all this, and I want to fucking sleep! I just—” her thought was cut off by something unknown. After a moment, she was back. “Christ, there they are calling me already.”

“Who?”

“The fucking police. Probably want me to give them my statement for the sixth time. Hold on, I’ll pick you back up in a sec.” 

Trish waited patiently as her friend took the call. She anticipated it would take several minutes, but to her surprise Rachel was back in less than sixty seconds. 

“Imagine that, now they want me to come down to the station! Middle of the night after everything I have been through. They say it can’t even wait until tomorrow,” Rachel said.

“What for?”

“They said they need to verify a few more details, I don’t know I sort of stopped listening after he said he needed me to come to the station I was so irritated. I just want this all to go away and it’s like they are intentionally dragging this out!”

“Listen girls, just do what they want, stay calm and don’t give them any reason to think you’re guilty. If you’re too emotional or too fired up, they may take that as a sign of guilt. Just stay as calm as you can and answer the questions with precise answers, nothing more, nothing less. Don’t give them any more detail than is necessary, okay?” 

“Okay. Okay.”

“I will call you in the morning to check in on you, but don’t hesitate to call if you need me before that alright?” 

“Alright. Thanks Trish, you’re an amazing friend. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“Forever and always babe, be safe.”

Rachel hung up the phone and quickly ordered yet another uber to take her to the police station. By the time one arrived and she got through the front desk it had been almost an hour and a half since they had summoned her. Detective Aaron Richards had already set up an interrogation room for them to talk in, although he assured her immediately that this was not an interrogation, that that was just what they called their meeting rooms. Somehow Rachel doubted his words. 

As they talked, it went exactly as Rachel had anticipated. They wanted her to go through her story all over again, start to finish. This time though, they wanted her to start earlier in her day. She answered his questions and took them through the story again, being careful to follow Trish’s advice. She kept as calm as possible and did not elaborate on any details unless specifically asked. 

Detective Richards let her know that no knife had been discovered nor had they found any sign of the killer at the crime scene. He said it was likely the killer had been wearing cloves as well as a long sleeve shirt and pants along with a hat of some sort as no DNA at all, hair or otherwise, had been recovered. Just as he was about to ask his next question, a knock came at the door and a female detective poked her head in. 

“Sorry to interrupt Detective Richards, but you have a phone call. It’s urgent.” 

Detective Richards exhaled strongly with frustration at the interruption, but then politely excused himself from the room. Once the door was closed behind him, the female detective asked how it was going and what he was thinking about the case. 

“I don’t know. At first I didn’t think this girl was involved, but the more I talk to her the more I am thinking maybe there is more to it. She is different this time around. Super calm, like too calm. Especially for this kind of thing. The first time I spoke to her she was frantic, emotional, couldn’t hardly form a sentence. But now she is poised, and calm. It doesn’t make sense. And she is going out of her way not to say more than she needs to.”

“Think she spoke to a lawyer already? Maybe was told not to say too much?”

“Maybe, but even so, why lawyer up if you have nothing to hide?”

“Paranoid maybe? Just covering her bases?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Where’s the call at?” Richards asked.

“Check-in desk. Asked for you specifically but wouldn’t give a name. A woman. You got a hot date tonight?” 

“Yeah right. Hot date with a coffee pot. Make sure she doesn’t leave the room; I’ll be right back.”

She nodded as he turned away from her to hit the check-in desk. As he approached, he gave a quick smile to Officer Stevens who was manning the phones for the night. Stevens handed him the phone. 

“Detective Richards,” he said. 

“I think you have a killer in custody,” a muffled voice said. 

Richards’ spine tingled at the statement. He motioned to Officer Stevens to hand him a pen and notepad. 

“Can I have your name please ma’am? 

“No. I need to stay anonymous. This is an anonymous call. Just a concerned citizen.” 

“I can appreciate that ma’am, but if your information leads to a potential arrest we may need more information from you,” Richards countered. 

“I’ll know if you need more information and if you do, I will reach out. I stay anonymous. Do you want the information or not?”

“That depends on the information.”

“Rachel Turner. She killed a man tonight. In an alley outside the Clover Club.”

Richards’ throat tightened. 

“How do you know this?” he asked.

“I saw it. She stabbed him several times and slit his throat. I saw it all. I followed her back to her apartment. She still has the knife and bloody clothes.” 

“You watched her murder someone and followed her, but didn’t call the police?”

“You don’t have to believe me Detective. Keep her in custody and send someone to check her apartment. You’ll find the murder weapon and the clothes she wore while doing it. The blood should be dry by now.” 

Before Richards could ask anything else, he heard a sharp click as the anonymous caller hung up. He quickly moved back to his female counterpart outside the interrogation room. He must have been wearing the concern all over his face, because she noticed immediately that something was wrong. 

“Date get canceled? What’s wrong?” 

“We just got an anonymous tip claiming Rachel Turner committed that murder earlier tonight. Claims they followed her back to her apartment and that she still has the knife and clothes.”

“Wait a minute, that doesn’t add up. She was onsite when we got there, we talked to her.”

“Doesn’t mean she couldn’t have stashed the stuff, called us and then went back and got it afterwards.”

“All that before our people swept the scene? Come on Aaron, it doesn’t add up.” 

“No but if she did kill the guy, there is no telling how much time she had before she called us. Hell, she could have offed the guy, went home and showered and then came back and acted like she just stumbled into the whole thing.” 

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Nothing about it feels right, but what we are going to do is have her place searched. If there is bloody knife or clothes there, we are going to have a lot more to discuss with Miss Turner.” 

An hour and a half later after waking up a judge from his sleep and getting an emergency search warrant approved, officers arrived in front of Rachel’s building. As they made their way inside, Trish turned the key and listened as the engine turned over. She smiled to herself. It wasn’t a happy smile. It was a solemn one. They’d been friends a long time. It was too bad things had to end this way. It was just bad timing. Wrong place at the wrong time. 

The police would find the knife and clothes. Trish knew they would, because she’d been sure to hide them well enough that it would appear Rachel had hidden them intentionally, but poorly enough that they would surely be found. There were no other suspects and although the anonymous tip would remain a mystery, the police would have everything they needed for a conviction. Possession of the murder weapon, no other suspects, and a potential killer who suddenly was so calm and not willing to elaborate on the details of her story that was originally so specific. 

Trish had played her part well. The concerned friend, the shoulder to cry on, the ultimate confidant. Now she had a new part to play. The true friend. The one who visits Rachel in jail. Who maintains her belief that Rachel never could have done what she was convicted of. What really happened that night and why would always remain a mystery. This thought continued to float in her mind as she shifted the car into drive and took off in the opposite direction watching the flashing blue police lights fade in her rearview as she got further and further away.