Friends like you

"By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire," I tell Wilson on the phone. "Listen, I'll let you know the rest when I see you tomorrow." I didn't know how to tell him that Andersen's letters were now burned inside the pile of leaves. Before I could put the fire out, they had burned completely. I couldn't understand how they found them, but that didn't matter because with the letters burned, I lost all hope; they were the only proof I had that Diana was harassed by him. I went inside the house and locked the door. I had no clue what I could do next, how I could help my friend, and prove that she was the victim. I go to my bedroom, and I lock the door. Wilson had told me I needed to be careful nowadays. That's when I see him standing there with a gun pointed at me. I guess burning the letters was not enough for them; they had to get rid of me too.

The next morning

All the city was talking about Molly Brown's murder and to some a suicide. Some thought perhaps she killed herself because she knew her friend was guilty, while some said maybe she was murdered by Anderson's ghost. Everyone had their bizarre theory on what had happened, but they all agreed on one thing Diana Weller was going to be found guilty of murder. She was the main suspect in the murder, and she had a motive to kill him. According to her, Mr.Anderson had verbally and physically harassed her while she worked for him, but no evidence was provided. She had been seen going inside his office. Scott Anderson was the son of a wealthy and powerful businessman.

During all this buzz, I was sitting in the library reading a book. Halfway through the book, I hear Wilson shouting, "Anna Anna, where are you?." I hid my face behind the book, hoping to go unnoticed till the librarian would throw him out. I expected this would happen when I heard about Molly Brown's murder, but still, I had hoped I would not be needed on the case. "There you are. Let's go," Wilson said as he took the book I was reading. I sighed and got up quietly. I picked up my bag and started walking towards the exit. "Where are we going first?" I ask him. "You tell me," he says. I think for a moment and say, "let's head to Molly Brown's place."

We get in his car, and he tells me that we need to collect some evidence before his client's trial. Wilson was a lawyer and a friend. She had heard he was defending Diana and that Molly was a witness in the case. "I know you don't like getting involved in these things, but I didn't know what else to do," he tells me. He waits for me to say something, but when I don't say anything, he continues, "Anna, you won't believe the lawyers the opposition has. Ruthless, and nobody was willing even to take Diana's case." "I see," He doesn't say anything for a while, and then he quietly says, "Am sure it was them. That poor girl, she just wanted to defend her friend" When we arrive, I look around outside and see the ash. "What do you think was burned," He asks me, "Nothing important. The fire was a diversion. This was done to catch her attention so that she would come outside the house." He nods. We head inside the, and I look around. The house is a mess with clothes scattered all around the bedroom. All the drawers are empty, with all the things thrown around.

"Do you know if anything was stolen"? I ask Wilson, who is busy looking through the cabinets. "I think the letters might be stolen; I can't seem to find them" "What was in the letters" "Well, Molly told me they contained proof that Diana was threatened by Mr. Anderson" "They could help turn the jury on our side. Maybe change the charges from first degree to third degree" "Wow" "What?" He asks me. "You believe she did it. Why take on the case if you think she did it" "I took on the case because I thought she was innocent, but Diana told me she did it" I nod. "Well, let's go meet her then," I say as we head out of the house.

We sit in the car, and he drives quietly for some time and asks, "Are you not going to work again?" "I am working. I am painting, and I have started selling some of my work" "You know what I am talking about," I did. He was talking about me working as a homicide detective again. Still, after a wrong decision I had taken, too many people suffered, so I decided to quit. "Well, the answer is no, I am not going to work." The rest of Wilson's ride compromised, telling me about the trial and how Molly's murder will lead to them losing.

When we enter the detention center, we are taken to a room. The police officer tells us to wait. After five minutes, he walks in with Diana. Her eyes are swollen and red. "Diana, I am so sorry for your loss" "It's all my fault," she says sadly and starts crying. "If only I hadn't told her and kept everything to myself," she says after a while. "Diana, this is not in any way your fault, and now is not the time for this."

"It is my fault that she died. She would have been alive if I didn't tell her anything."

"Why do you say that? Shouldn't you say she would have been alive if I hadn't killed Mr. Anderson?"

"What are you talking about?" she looks at me with an annoyed expression.

"Well, Wilson tells me you confessed to doing it." 

"I did." She says confidently, "Diana, come on now, at least tell us the truth." Wilson looks at us with a confused look on his face.

"You were willing to go to prison for her, but now everything has changed" "I can't. People will remember her as a murderer" "No, they won't. They will remember her as somebody who died protecting her friend.'

"The night he was murdered, you were at home, and Molly went to meet him instead of you, right?" 

Wilson and I head out with some help from Diana; we were able to figure out that the letters might still be in the house. She knew where Molly put the things that were important to her. "How did you know it was Molly." 

"The fact that she was murdered, at some point during the investigation Scotts family must have found out the truth. Rather than try to get her arrested, they hired somebody to kill her."

"I knew you would be able to crack it. Now let's hurry up and find those letters."

We get in the car, and after a while, I notice something odd, but I don't say anything. "Could we stop for a while? I need to make an important call" He's a bit confused with the sudden request, but he stops the car. I get out and walk for a bit, so I know he won't hear me.

When we reach the house, we both start looking around. "I found the letters," I shout to him. He's a bit startled, and he says, "Good, why not let the neighbors know we are in a crime scene without authorization? I might add" "Sorry, Wilson, but it had to be done" "What are you" that's when the door opens behind us, and a man walks in with a gun pointed at us. "The letters," he says in a calm tone and holds out his hand. Beside me, Wilson is anything but calm. Am sure he has connected the dots and knows the man in front of us is the one who murdered Molly Brown. "Why," I ask him " Should I tell you before or after I shoot your friend here" Wilson looks at me with his eyes wide open and then looks at the man and says, "Before, please." "Give me the letters," he says firmly and loudly. " I will, but first tell us who sent you and why?" I ask him. He loads the gun and doesn't say anything. Beside me, Wilson whispers, "Just give him the letters." 

The killer moves closer while pointing the gun at Wilson. He grabs the letters from my hand and turns to leave when I ask him, "Why did you kill her? Was it because of the letters?" "She was killed because she killed Scott Anderson" As he is about to go near the door, five police officers enter pointing the gun at him. As they are about to take the gun from him, he shoots, and I see Wilson fall to the ground.

Two weeks later

I was on my way to Wilson's office to collect some things when I see his mother. Before I could leave, she sees me and walks towards me. "How could you let it happen? My poor boy," she cries. "I am so sorry. I don't know what to say," I really did not know what to say. Before she can say anything, I see Wilson. He takes his mother away, and I wait for him in his office. "Your mother could not be any more dramatic," I say when he comes back. "You should have seen your face. Well, you deserved it for not telling me a murderer was following us" I knew he was a bit angry about that, but it had to be done. "You should be thanking me. I was able to get a recording of the killer saying Molly murdered Scott, and now with the letters and the recordings, Diana will be free soon" He hands me a book. "Thank you, Anna." 

She opened the book when she got back home. Inside was a handwritten note.

I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you that I am so grateful for your help, and more than me, Diana is so thankful for your support. Her family is also grateful to you, and so are her friends. I am telling you this so that you don't merely stop helping people because you could not help one person. It doesn't work that way. So keep painting. I know you enjoy it, but along the way, help those who come to you.

She smiled and closed the book. I guess it's time to get back to work, she said to herself.