Driving home Friday evening felt different. The crime scene, now a week old, flickered through her mind each time she got close to the apartment.

  Jackie put her car in park and pulled up a local news website on her phone.

  After she finished browsing the front page, she typed her ex-roommate’s name in the search bar and pressed ENTER.

  No results.

  Frustrated, she searched, UNH student dead.

  Nothing she hadn’t already seen before.

  Jackie flung the useless piece of junk into the passenger seat, tears forming in her eyes. What was taking so long? Her horn whined and cried out from her punches to the steering wheel. The violence didn’t give her any reprieve so she released a restrained scream.

  After a calming breath, she removed her keys from the ignition. Exiting her car, she absentmindedly took the trek to her apartment building and took even more time up the steps to her unit.

  Outside her door, more thoughts ran through her mind. No one close to her had ever died. Death was a vague concept she hadn't concerned herself with. Her family were all alive and so was she. They were immortals, for all she knew. Jackie heard of old classmates from high school who had passed away. But they had been just that. Old classmates. She could only call to mind minute impressions of them. Some she remembered as class clowns, others as talkative troublemakers. Death was an ever-present and a frequent occurrence; however it never familiarized itself with her. Not until now.

  Jackie’s breathing quickened, and with sweaty palms, she counted to ten. Now that the aching in her chest disappeared she was ready to unlock the door and go inside. She unlocked the door, turned the knob and pushed it open.

  A dark entryway greeted her, with no enthusiasm or even relief that she made it back alive. She still hadn’t gotten used to coming home to an empty apartment.

  She walked inside, standing in the foyer with her eyes closed tight. She didn’t want to get used to Simon’s absence. She wanted him alive. She missed coming home and complaining about the long monotonous lectures they had and comparing whose major was the hardest, or even about how they dreaded finals and hadn't caught up on any of their assignments. Now, those stupid lectures in biology class—detailing the lifespan of a plant species had her thinking of the boy who couldn’t take care of a plant no matter how hard she tried to teach him. She took a deep breath and flipped on the light switch. The lamps illuminated their—no, her living room.

  His favorite beige couch was the first thing her eyes settled on. A few weeks ago, they bickered over which corner felt the most comfortable. They argued over the spoiled milk in the fridge. More and more of these petty arguments flew across her mind. With each one, she sent her apology. She didn’t mean it when she said Simon was beginning to look like a fat pig. She was just angry. They were angry.

  After his death, these moments were relentless and popped in throughout the day. The police statements and her repeated answers to their questions went past like a blur in her mind’s eye. Jackie regretted hiding that note, it could have been used for evidence. Except those times she had been grateful she hid it. There were enough villain stories of werewolves. The real questions were, why was someone threatening her? What had she done? She walked to her desk and pulled up the folder with all her research documents on her monitor. Jackie looked down at the sticky note she’d written, marking down the pages that were stolen. She used to regard her research as a long trek of endless goose hunts, but now it was the key to solving Simon's murder.

  The more this mysterious murderer wanted Jackie to leave the barrier alone, the more she delved. The forensic photographers snapping photos of her roommate dead in the bathtub, the detectives sniffing around their small apartment, rummaging through their kitchen cabinets, desk drawers, and the boxes Jackie kept in the closet finding zilch. The invasion ended with no fingerprints, no definitive evidence or suspects to interrogate. It wasn’t yet a cold case, but it had lost its priority status.

  She found the files. The document's title read: Theory of Lycanae Genetic Mutation. It was an early thesis of hers on the genetic variable that caused werewolves to shift forms. Jackie had a faint memory of the project’s goal, but she was positive it was thrown out by one too many professors to count as significant. Just like a lot of her work at the time was. Her approach had drastically changed since those days. Jackie didn't even know she still had these.

  She skimmed over some of the data, wincing at her grammatical errors and how unprofessionally her facts were presented. She leaned closer to the page on the screen, is that a random r in between specimens? She deleted it, restraining a groan. Using the time to refresh her recollection a bit while reading, she tried not to cringe. It was as she did this that something caught her interest, a gene-type called D-H56, a commonly overlooked category due to its close relation with genetic repair. The data didn't have any notable changes between humans, wolves, and werewolves. Interesting but still, the change was very slight and incrementally minor. Nothing important. This document couldn't have been the reason Simon was killed. This is ridiculous. She checked the sticky note again.

  A knock at the door broke her focus, pulling her out of her reverie.

  Riley’s cinnamon apple scented perfume gave her away. Her best friend loved to wear it during Christmas or when she needed a pick-me-up.This time, it just happened to be used for both purposes. The reminder of the time of year allowed other thoughts into her mind. In three weeks, her dad would be coming with her brother in tow so they could go Christmas-shopping. Shutting that out for now would help her focus on this. She couldn’t be distracted. Someone wants to stop her from crossing the boundary enough to kill someone close to her. Jackie unlocked the door and let her in. Riley gave her a brisk hug. As she was pulling away, the brunette placed both hands on either side of her cheeks causing her to stand still while Riley turned her head this way and that.

  “Are you okay? I called your phone, and you didn’t pick up.”

  Jackie pat her pockets and spoke through squished lips, “Oh, I left it downstairs in the car.”

  Riley looked at her, a concerned look in her eyes.

  “You didn’t lock your keys in the car as well, did you? You sound so lifeless and distracted.”

  Jackie pointed at the bowl on the glass table where she had deposited her keys.

  “I’m not that dumb…” Jackie said then ambled back to her computer, eager to finish where she left off. Next on the list is the hormonal imbalance report Jackie submitted three years ago. She furrowed her brows, scanned the notes and found the corresponding documents. She perused its contents. These were all her failures. The things that were tossed out by their department heads. They also needed heavy revisions. Most, if not all, of these were her shortcomings as an undergrad.

  “What are you doing?” Riley asked, putting her chin on her friend’s shoulder.

  “Why would anyone want these?” Jackie pointed at the screen. “There are typos everywhere and some of my math is off. It is clearly incomplete.”

  “I don’t even know what I’m looking at, so I’ll just take your word for it. But why are you looking at these?”

  “The killer took these before or after he killed Simon and I’m trying to find him—”

  “You’re trying to chase down a murderer?”

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  Sighing, Jackie replied, “He killed Simon and I could be next.”

  Riley cocked her head to the side, opening and closing her mouth. She then looked skyward before her gaze returned to hers as she said, “I know I can’t change your mind, but can’t we just report this to the police first?”

  Jackie gave her an exasperated look.

  “Sure but I doubt anything will come from it.”

  ***

  She had to wrestle with Riley outside the police station door, Riley had ultimately won and thus, dragged an unwilling Jackie into the lobby. Jackie had spotted Riley’s car in the driveway outside her job earlier when she was on break.

  Riley almost confiscated the sub she had been eating and threatened to reveal Jackie’s deepest secret to her mom if Jackie didn’t come with her when she got off work. Best friends. They knew scary details about your life. Not to mention, Riley was well acquainted with that frightening lady.

  “Hello, officer. I want to know if there’s been progress on a murder case. Who should I speak to for that?” Riley asked the receptionist at the counter, who was busy switching between typing and writing notes in a journal.

  The man looked up and called someone over. This new officer was in uniform with a refreshing set of bright blue eyes. His radiant, straight teeth had Jackie shielding her eyes. This officer had pinchable cheeks that were reddening by the minute, his eyes locked on Riley, his expression starstruck.

  “I know you.” He pulled something up on his phone and showed it to them. It was Riley’s social media page where she posted her photos and information about where her next photo shoot would be. She traveled all over the world and had millions of followers on her different internet platforms because of her modeling career. These kinds of interactions weren’t as common, but there were occasions like this. Riley gave him her most charming smile.

  “Yes, that’s me. Are you a fan? Would you like my autograph?” she asked, and he nodded so quick and fast, his head might’ve snapped right off and rolled to the ground.

  Jackie rolled her eyes, saying, “Seriously? You think this is the right time for this? You gotta be kidding me right now. We’re here because my roommate is dead. Not to host your next fan signing event.”

  Riley shushed her, casting a wink her way. It was too late, the cop was already stumbling away and crashing through a pair of steel doors. He reappeared; a magazine with Riley’s face plastered on it in his hand. Her smoky black eyes gave off a mash up between grunge and emo.

  Jackie released a deep sigh. This was taking far too long. All she had wanted to do was prove her point to Riley, the police were useless and then she would go back to her own investigation like she had originally planned.

  “Could you do me a favor?” Riley asked while signing her name. Jackie was tempted to call him Bobble Head with all the expectant nods.

  “I need to talk to someone about a murder case. Maybe even the officer in charge. The victim’s name is Simon McCarthy. Can you do this for me?”

  The officer’s expression changed. He grabbed the magazine back with gentle hands, placed a hand on his chin and pursed his lips. “I’ll see what I can do” was the response he gave. The uncertainty was apparent in his voice.

  He walked off, and we were left alone with the multitasking receptionist, who was now taking calls. After twenty minutes passed, she nudged Riley’s shoulder and jabbed her thumb toward the parking lot. “I’m ready to leave. He isn’t com—”

  Blue Eyes chose that moment to come jogging back. Jackie groaned at his overjoyous grin, those shiny whites blinding her a third time. “He said to bring you in.”

  Riley gave her a triumphant look as they were guided behind a door and into a narrow hallway. Glass display boards hung on the wall with awards and portraits of supposedly honorable officers whose stern faces judged Jackie as they walked past. Curious about the hustling and bustling noises further ahead, she picked up her pace.

  Jackie didn’t acknowledge the whispered exchange between Riley and Mr. Blue Eyes when she charged ahead. Her eyes centered on the cops in their black and blue uniforms watching as they scurried across the aisle of desks, passing paperwork between one another. Jackie couldn’t catch any fleeting conversations because Blue Eyes veered right and pushed open a door to what looked like an office. He waved her over, making a small sound when Jackie didn't budge. It was an office. An office that reeked of daisies.

  Jackie pinched her nostrils, and fought against Riley’s iron grip as her friend pulled her into the room, her eyes seeking the source of that pungent smell. Those infuriating flowers always made her nose so itchy and runny. Her eyes were even getting watery. Jackie gazed longingly at the closing wooden door that Blue Eyes pulled shut behind them. Get me out of here, she wished she could scream this. Jackie tried to reach for the knob, but Riley was quick to swat her hand and turned her shoulders back to face the officer who was beginning to stand.

  “Hello, my name is Caleb Wilde.” The smooth voice beckoned her eyes to meet his. His gray eyes lingered on hers as he looked from her to Riley. The cologne emitting from his uniform held a hint of daisies. Jackie breathed through her mouth and stared at him wide-eyed. What grown man wore daisies in his cologne? Did he even know? Did a brand like that actually exist? “I’m the detective in charge of McCarthy's case. May I ask, what is your relationship with the victim?”

  “No, we are his friends. I'm Riley and this is Jackie,”—Riley pointed at her—“she’s also his roommate.” Riley pushed her forward and down into the armchair in front of his desk. Jackie drew back as far as the chair allowed.

  “That's rude,” Riley whispered and swatted her hand away from her nose. A whine slipped from her lips as Riley pinned her arms to her side. Still, she breathed through her mouth as best as she could.

  He didn't look offended or bothered by her reaction. His brows were furrowed and his nose twitch was imperceptible to anyone without sharp senses. But nothing in his expression read, Die, you rude bitch. Instead those gray eyes stared into hers with curiosity, his head even tilted.

  Riley rubbed Jackie’s shoulders and shook her.

  “Tell him what you told me.”

  “I think…” Jackie began, “the killer was after me. Simon died because of me.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “They might have been after my research, but I don’t know why.” Jackie slid the fresh print-outs of the stolen documents on top of his desk. “I’m a biochem major and I focus my studies on werewolves. This could be what the killer was after…”

  He shook his head.

  “Do you know of any other suspects, maybe an angry ex? Did he mention any arguments with a friend?” It was Jackie’s turn to shake her head, his questions were answered in her police report. It seemed this guy hadn’t read those so she slid closer to the door. Riley grabbed her wrist tight and pulled her back. Jackie gave her an exasperated look. He said he wasn't interested in listening, was she deaf? Fine, She'll have to prove her point further.

  Not stifling her scoff, Jackie asked, “Are you really the one in charge of this case? Have you even read the case file?” A snarl formed on her lips. “If you won’t do anything, then give this case to someone who will.”

  With that said, Jackie handed him the killer’s note. The damp spots had dried and wrinkled the paper, but the words were still legible and the threat was obvious.

  The detective sat up and grabbed the paper from her hands. His eyes scanned the note again and again. “When did you find this? Why wasn’t this discovered along with all the other evidence?” he asked. Jackie avoided his gaze. Her eyes fell on Riley who was giving her a pointed stare. What a way to show your loyalty.

  “I don’t trust cops.” That was half-true. She held a distrust for people in general. Should she tell him she knew the killer was a werewolf? She couldn’t forget the smell of their wolf. No, that doesn’t classify as evidence. It was hearsay and would be thrown out of court.

  Wilde turned his attention back to the note in his hand, not sparing another glance toward the documents. Jackie was getting tired of his dismissals. This was important evidence and he ignored them.

  “Has anything happened recently? Did you receive any other threats?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

  “No threats, but I'm not waiting around for this bastard to find me.” Jackie spoke through gritted teeth.

  “What do you mean you won't wait?”

  “She’s trying to get herself killed is what she means.” Riley answered him, her eyes pleading.

  “I'm not going to die. I can handle this. It's just one measly werewol—”

  “And she's been at it for a couple of days. Is this a stage of grief that I never read about? Should I get her some help?” Riley spoke over her, interrupting her which she was grateful for. She glanced at Detective Wilde to see if he caught her slip-up. His gaze was pensive as he stared off into space.

  “This is a usual response from someone who is grieving a friend’s murder. I will look over these papers you’ve given me, but I’m afraid they might not get this investigation anywhere. I will notify you if there are any more leads we can follow.” He passed his business card to them both. “Here is my number if you need anything.”

  Jackie gave a small sigh of relief as soon as they left the detective’s office. They were walking down the police station’s steps when Jackie looked over and locked eyes with Ben, his lip split and his left eye swollen. She couldn’t contain the laugh that slipped through her lips.

  “What the hell happened to you?” she asked.

  Is her reaction to Simon's death realistic?