A TRAIL OF LIES

"Impossible."

"Ma'am, I swear I am telling the truth."

"Do you expect me to believe that Miss Emerald- a lady who I met many days ago -has been dead for ten years?"

I glared at the man standing in the doorway. "Let me in. Now."

He blocked me. "Not until you tell me who you are."

I dropped the bag I had been carrying, ruffled through my jeans pockets, and brought out my driver's license. "Here."

He was a lanky young man, and he wore glasses. He scratched his rust coloured untidy hair, and peered at my license. I studied him as he came up closer. There was something off about this man. I could not place my finger on it.

"Sarah Brooks, huh?"

"Right."

"And how do you know Miss Emerald?"

"I feel like I should be the one asking questions here." I scowled.

"Feel free to answer mine first."

"She's my neighbour! Of course I will know her!"

"Miss Brooks-"

"There!" I pointed a finger at him. "You say Miss Emerald has been dead for ten years and you are our neighbour?! Don't you find it strange sir, that you do not even know that your neighbour is married?" I showed him my wedding ring to prove it.

His face went pale. "I-I don't go out much."

"Damn right you don't. Now what have you done to Miss Emerald?"

He looked extremely bewildered now. He gave a nervous glance behind his shoulder, and I noticed his hands were trembling. Bulls-eye.

"I have done nothing to Miss Emerald," he stammered, "I swear I haven't. I just moved in here recently, and came to know that the previous owner of this house- Julia Emerald -died ten years ago."

"Do you expect me to buy that, sir?"

I could still remember my meeting with her. She, with her blonde hair and startling green eyes. Always jovial and friendly.

"My name is George Turner."

"Nice to meet you too." I said impatiently.

"I have not done anything to her."

"Then you will have no problem with me entering the house...right?" I asked him with a smug smile on my face.

He was as white as a sheet of paper. "I refuse."

"Seems like you have some skeletons in your closet Mr. Turner. I want to know what has happened with Miss Emerald."

"N-no." He said, blocking the entrance.

I was about to move him out of the way, when suddenly, my phone rang. It was Jack.

"Hey darling."

"Honey, are you outside?" Jack sounded worried.

"Yes, but why?" I watched George Turner carefully. Were his eyes...red? Why were they red? I had not noticed this before.

"They are saying on the news that there is a serial killer out there on the loose. Apparently seems to trick his victims into believing that he is some innocent guy, and then murders them. Please stay at home, and lock all the doors. I am coming as quickly as possible."

He cut the phone. I held it for some time, and then looked at George Turner again. Jack, I think I might know who your killer might be.

Turner's eyes were bloodshot. I had not noticed it before. What could he be hiding?

Just then, his voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Mrs. Brooks," he said, "Why did you come to meet Miss Emerald anyway?" He began to inch closer to me.

I bent, picked up the bag which I had dropped, and said, "I-I had a gift for her. It is in this bag."

He smiled. "Can I see it?"

"S-Sure."

In one swift move, I slashed his neck with the knife concealed in the bag. His red eyes went wide, and he collapsed on the ground. I pounced on him, and continued to slash at his face, screeching all the while, "You want to see the gift?! Do you?! Here it is! Here is the gift I brought for her ten years ago! Ten years-that's when we met! And oh, she loved it!"

I stopped, and finally admired my artwork. George Turner. He had been the one of many.

I entered the house, and searched the entire place. I opened the doors of his closet, and found what I had been looking for.

"Well, well," I said, "I was mistaken. He has drugs in his closet."

Stashes of cocaine. That explained his bloodshot eyes.

"Well," I smiled, "Time to clean up. They have started to notice my nocturnal activities."