Don't Touch

The first day of that week, just after the sun had begun to shine again after all the months of winter, she noticed the shapes under the snow. It was little more than a bump at that point, more shadows that structure, and other than noticing the prettiness of the contrast she ignored it and headed home.

On the next day’s commute home she spotted it again, and had to remind herself of it, having utterly forgotten about it by the time she’d reached the end of the road the day before.

For the rest of that week she checked in on it, but the thaw was slow and nothing more was revealed. For the rest of her trek home, as she navigated the ice and snow, she dreamt about what it could be. A fallen tree was most likely, but her mind would wonder off to the realms of buried treasure. As soon as she was home she forgot it again, as her cats demanded her full attention and the pile of dirty dishes judged her.

That second week work was busy and she managed to get a lift home each day, so she never passed the snowdrift and its hidden treasure. It didn’t cross her mind at all.

The third week she was back to walking. So much of the snow had faded away by now that she almost walked straight past the snowdrift, it had changed so much. Her eyes fell to the object and she paused, before doing a double take as she realised it was the same thing.

It had some structure to it, a very sharp corner that couldn’t possibly be natural. It was a dark grey colour, or it reflected the sky back down, and out of curiosity she couldn’t help but reach out and touch it. Through her glove she couldn’t tell anything about it, so she tugged her glove off and gently poked it. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was on the side of a narrow, single track road she’d have sworn it was a lock box or strong box of some sort.

“But what would you be doing out here?” she muttered to herself as she scraped more of the frost off. Sure enough it was a metal box, and she drummed her fingers on it for a moment as she wondered whether to try opening it and seeing what was inside.

The phantom meowing of her cats drifted along the wind.

“Better not. Not today, anyway.” Shoving her hand back into the glove she carried on home, and for the first time she remembered the box after her encounter with it. Her last thought before she drifted off to sleep was,

‘How the hell did you get there?’

By the next morning she’d forgotten again and that evening she was rushing home. Not only did she have friends over for dinner, but it was the first day of spring rain, actual rain and not more blasted snow, and she was already soaked through. In the dreary greyness of the afternoon it looked like nothing more than some trash that had been dumped by the side of the road. There was no magic, no mystery to it. Just plain laziness and apathy on the part of her fellow humans.

Once more she utterly forgot about it.

And so it went, each day another reason, another distraction, and the fading snowdrift at the side of the road was nothing more than part of the landscape. When spring finally dawned all the box would do was block out the flowers and be a blot on the green of the bank-

The doorbell rang. She frowned; not only was it almost nine o’clock, but she didn’t get visitors anyway. The road was fairly deserted with the few houses on it spread out, so it was rare for passers-by to get the wrong house either.

Keeping the chain across she opened the door and peered out, much to the annoyance of her cats who’d been basking by the radiator in the hallway.

“Hello?”

“Ms Laura Edwards?”

“Yes?”

“Hello there, my name is Detective Inspector Sullivan, and this is Detective Inspector Carter.” The tall woman in the serious suit gestured to the man behind her as well, while both of them held up identity badges for Laura to check. “May we talk to you please?”

A dozen different disaster scenarios raced through Laura’s head as she fumbled with the chain. Was it her mum, her dad? Or her little brother, had he gotten into trouble? Oh god, what’s wrong?

“What’s happened?” she said as she all but burst out her door.

The inspector raised her eyebrows. She handed a photo over to Laura. “I wanted to ask, do you recognise this?” There was a hint of challenge in her voice, as if she was daring Laura to deny it. Further back down the path her partner was itching to act, and Laura got the sneaking dread that the action would be arresting her.

Well, if they were only going to show her a picture then it couldn’t be anything serious. Her panic turning to intrigue Laura held the picture up to the light from the doorway.

“I don’t think so. It looks just like, you know, a box or something.” That thought triggered her memory. “Wait! No, I think I do know it. There was a box like this, what, half a mile down the road? It was buried in a snowdrift, but it should be easy enough to clear off now. Pretty visible as well. Has it been reported stolen then?”

Stolen then dumped by the side of the road. Laura grinned at the fact the mystery had been solved, but the inspectors took badly to her smile.

“Is there something amusing about that fact, Ms Edwards?” the male inspector, Carter, asked.

The aggression of the two inspectors scared her now. Maybe she should’ve gotten a dog, like her mum had suggested. “I’ve just been wondering about it for weeks. Spotted it on my way home and, you know, didn’t know what it was. But, it was stolen, yeah? Stolen and dumped by the roadside…?” Laura felt as it her doorstep was opening up to swallow her, but for the life of her she had no idea what was wrong.

Sullivan cleared her throat. “Ms Edwards, this box is evidence in a murder inquiry-”

Her next words were lost behind Laura’s swearing.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… a murder? Round here?” Should’ve gotten a dog. “What the hell happened? And where? And when?”

“Ms Edwards, we’re supposed to ask the questions.” Sullivan snatched the photograph back.

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. I’m not sure what else I can tell you. I first saw the box, must’ve been-”

“Ms Edwards, where were you five weeks ago? On the evening of Thursday the 13^th of February?”

“I was-” Realisation finally dawned on her. “Hang on, why the hell am I a suspect? I don’t even know who’s been killed, or anything. Why d’you think I did it?” Fear, intrigue, horror and now outrage. Laura hadn’t planned for such an emotional evening, but she was damned if she was just going to stand there and take this accusation.

“Your fingerprints are on record for your shoplifting as a child, and they were a match to those found on the box. Which, incidentally, is the murder weapon.”

Laura blinked for a moment. Then she remembered the day she’d been curious, and had taken her gloves off to feel the box. “Mother f- Yes, I touched the box. But after it had been dumped, when it was still mostly covered in snow. I was curious about what it was, so I had a feel to see if I could work out what it was made of. All but forgot about it after that.” Curiosity killed the cat, and it was about to get her arrested so it seemed.

“What were you doing the evening of February 13^th?”

“I was here, I guess. It was a weekday, so I’d have had work the next day. I don’t tend to go out during the week.”

“Can anyone confirm that?”

“My cats.” Even as she said it Laura knew it sounded childish and winced. “I don’t know. If I was talking to someone online or playing computer games I might have a record of it? But it was just some random weekday evening. I don’t know what I was doing off the top of my head.” Not a strong answer, but surely being able to exactly pinpoint where she’d been would’ve been more suspicious?

“Would you mind coming down to the station with us for some further questions?”

And fear was back. The inbuilt sense of obedience rammed into the ingrained sense of danger. The immoveable post versus the unstoppable bullet.

“No.” That made both the inspectors raise their eyebrows, and she could see them reach for their handcuffs. “I’ll happily come down to the station tomorrow to give a full statement and answer any questions then. I can check my computer as well and see what I was doing that evening. But, if it’s all the same to you, I don’t feel comfortable getting into a car with two strangers on a dark night. All the more so when you’ve just told me someone’s been murdered in the area.”

“We showed you our badges.”

“And how the hell would I know what an official badge looks like? Those could be movie props for all I know. I’m not saying I do doubt you, but I…” Not only that, but Laura wanted nothing more than a large drink.

The two inspectors looked at each and pulled away from the doorway. They had a short whispered conversation which was impossible to interpret, and Laura was fearing the worst when they came back. Would she be more of a suspect now that she’d refused to go with them? Would she end up in handcuffs again?

“Very well Ms Edwards,” Detective Inspector Sullivan said, with the slow deliberate sigh of someone doing a huge favour. “Please come to the station as soon as you can tomorrow.”

The pair of them nodded and headed back down the path. They disappeared pretty quickly for a pair of people who’d been looking to arrest a suspect just moments before.

A freezing wind blew some sense back into Laura and she staggered inside. With the door shut between her and the world she sank down to the floor. One of her cats came up and nuzzled her hand.

“Hey Link,” Laura murmured. “Don’t know about you boy, but I need a drink.”

Whatever else came of this, that was the last time she’d touch anything she found by the roadside, that was for sure.