Sitting in his car sweating, Chan pondered the game. Was his head truly back in the game? And what was that game again?
He glanced at the house, knowing no one was there. So what exactly was he doing here? It reminded him of recurring dreams about school. The most frequent was discovering on the day of a final exam that he was registered for the class he’d never studied for nor attended.
Part two of this dream was not being able to find the room, running up and down stairs and through never-ending hallways. If the dream persisted, part three was sitting there going over page after page of the exam and not being able to answer any questions.
Looking at the empty house again, he compared this to the dream of taking a logic exam, having to be able to symbolically represent a statement. But the statement was incomprehensible. And it was not a single statement, but paragraph after paragraph of nonsensical gibberish he could not understand.
He got out and headed up the front stairs. Nina Goo had told Yamamoto she was in hiding, so as far as Chan knew, her house should be empty.
And what was he looking for again?
He wasn’t looking for proof of Nina’s complicity in this automobile insurance fraud scheme, he was looking for proof of her innocence, building a case for her having nothing to do with this except for her unfortunate marriage to Byung Yu.
She’d said she didn’t have a copy of the marriage license, so he wouldn’t find that.
Chan picked the front door lock. Now that the sun was down, he needed light. Eh, he was a policeman, if anyone was curious who was in here, he had a badge.
Flipping on the light he scanned the room. What might help prove her innocence? He headed for her desk, sat, and opened the top drawer.
Bingo. Bank statements. If she didn’t have odd deposits, that would help, right? He went backwards, month after month. She did not have many deposits other than what looked like payroll checks. This was good, but really? No criminal in her right mind would deposit illegal income in the bank. Safety deposit boxes, bank accounts in foreign countries, a tin can in the back yard. There were limitless possibilities. Still, clean statements were a piece of evidence to help build a case for innocence.
Chan opened the second drawer. Tax returns. He pulled out the folders, starting with the previous year and working backwards. He’d gone through two, looking for anything strange.
Just as he opened the 1955 folder, a shot sounded and Chan dropped to the floor. The bullet shattered a pane of glass next to the front door and lodged itself in the wall above the desk. Had he remained seated, the shot would have possibly grazed the top of his head. In that moment looking up at the hole in the wall, Chan mused that he and Yamamoto might have had matching head bandages.
Pulling his revolver, Chan scurried on his stomach toward the front door. Reaching up, he switched off the light, then stopped breathing, listening for anything.
A car engine gunned to life and someone screeched off into the night. Chan finally exhaled, stood up, and, still with his weapon drawn, cautiously opened the door.
He was pretty sure his assailant had disappeared, but he did not holster his weapon, placing it on the passenger seat, until he arrived home. When he headed back to find more evidence of Nina Goo’s innocence, he would bring back-up.
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Aloha #WriterTuesday, I hope you are safe and well. Today’s #WritingPrompt is
Use it to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece on your site and link back to me, or simply leave it as a comment below. I would love to read it : )