Red Autumn

The winter breeze blew through her short blond hair as she stepped out of the cabin careful not to bump her head on the low doorframe. She pulled her jacket close to keep warm. She stood, ears alert and stared into the woods. The soft rustle of leaves came from that direction. She froze, her breath inaudible.
“Christina?” His booming voice sounded through the trees that surrounded the four acres.
She let out a long held breath and relaxed. It was only Wilson.
“Yeah, it’s just me.” Christina said.
She stifled a yawn and decided sleep was going to cure her exhaustion. Back in the cabin, a pile of criminal cases sat on the table untouched. She ignored them and climbed into bed. She would deal with them some other time. Right now, she wanted to sleep.
The sound of someone opening the cabin door interrupted her dream. Having the same thing happen so many times before, she knew what was coming. In any second, Wilson would burst in and try to get her out of bed.
She covered her face with a pillow and hid under covers. The footsteps came closer as she counted. “Three, two, one.” The footsteps stopped and she peeked from under the covers.
Wilson’s chestnut brown hair looked as if he was the one who had been sleeping. His black eyebrows accentuated his big green eyes. His lips formed a straight unhappy line.
“Christina, come on.” He was always trying to get her to do her work. Each time Christina had a stack of papers waiting for her, she tended to let them keep sitting. The thought of those files frightened her to the point of hiding from them.
“Get with it,” he said. “You’re letting work pile up again.”
She closed her eyes, deep in thought, let out a heavy sigh and swung her feet so they were touching the ground.
The dreadful task of reading those cases remained inevitable.
She worked for hours before she concurred it was time for a break. She grabbed a jacket and walked out the door.
Christina did not usually pay much attention to her surroundings. This time, though, she took the time to see where she was. It seemed like more fun than working on the remainder of the cases.
The treetops swayed to the light wind. The sun was setting in a swirl of oranges and yellows. She stayed watching, amazed as the sun disappeared behind the trees.
٥٥٥
The smell of fresh brewed Koffee hit her when she stepped into the kitchen after waking up. Wilson was pouring himself a cup, his back to her. Christina pulled out a chair and sat, as he turned round.
“How are the cases going?” He asked.
She avoided his gaze and looked down. Why did he have to care so much?
Christina stared at her brother as he began to cook. He was always so worried about her. It annoyed her, especially while she was hungry.
“I have done some.” She replied, refusing to meet his eyes,
“Good.” Wilson put the plate of poached eggs and bacon in front of her. He took a seat and asked, “So, where did you go last night?”
Christina looked at him with a blank expression. “What do you mean; I was here the whole time.”
It was Wilson’s turn to stare. “Why are you lying to me? I saw you leave.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” It was too early in the morning to be arguing and she was starting to get mad.
“God, Christina, stop acting like you don’t know what I am saying, because I know you do.” He stood up, pushing his chair backwards. “How can you even argue not leaving if I saw you leave?” He let out a deep breath, putting his weight on the table. “Why won’t you tell me? I let you visit me in the mountains, and you lie to me, that shows just how great a person you are.”
She shoved the untouched plate away from her. Her appetite had vanished. She crossed her arms and tried to find a response. That failed. She grabbed a case at random to get her mind off his accusation.
Her pulse quickened and her breath shortened. It was not just the horrid picture of the victim, but also the name of her that caught her by surprise. She smacked it face down on the table.
Wilson, who was now standing at the sink, watched her with curiosity.
Christina’s eyes were open wide, a gap between her lips.
“What’s the matter?” he picked up the case after she did not answer.
“He pulled at his collar before asking, “Isn’t that one of your friends?”
She nodded, still horror-stricken. This definitely got her mind off what had happened. “Hazel.”
“Wilson, I have to go back to Boone.” Christina got up, “Must go pack.” Her mind started to race.” Dead. Hazel. Friend. Must go home.
After getting her clothes and belongings packed and ready to go, she climbed into her car, waved a quick goodbye to Wilson and set out on the road.
٥٥٥
When she reached her house in Boone, she went straight to the phone and called Lola. The phone rang six times before reaching voice mail. Christina decided to try again later.

She went through the bag of things found in the crime scene. In it were samples of blood, a knife, and a portion of red cloth. Christina could not associate any of these to anything. She decided going to the crime scene, itself would prove more helpful.
As she drove up to the old building where partygoers danced all night long, she couldn’t help but think how much she doesn’t enjoy dancing.
A party was going on. Loud music flowed through the walls, making her wonder how anyone could stand being inside. She figured questioning people inside would not contribute much to the case, and was about to head back to her car when she noticed a man standing near the side of the building, propped against the wall, watching her. She walked over to him.
“Sorry to bother you, but have you seen this person?” she pulled out a picture of Hazel.
He looked from her, to the picture finally fixing his gaze at her. Something in his eyes told her he knew something, but he wasn’t about to say.
She sighed and reached into her pocket for her wallet, grabbed a five and watched as he took it.
“I saw her with another girl, it was dark but I could tell she had blond hair, kind of like yours.”
She thanked him and rushed to her car. She did not know anyone who was blond and had hung out with Hazel she thought as she turned on the engine.
Since Lola was not picking up her calls or calling back, she thought she would drive to her apartment.
To find who brutally murdered Hazel, she needed to talk to anyone who could possibly know something.

“Wait one second!” Lola yelled from the other side of the door when she knocked twice. Christina started to fidget, anxious to get started on the case. She did not enjoy her job most of the time; the cases she got did not usually interest her or have to do with her. This was why she put off doing her work so much. If only she had found out Hazel had been murdered earlier.
“Hey, sorry, I was just cleaning.” A tall, red haired girl said as she opened the door. She let the door rest on her leg, looked up and saw it was Christina. Her face turned somber. “Christina, come in.”
Christina shook her head. “No, I just have one question; do you know anything about what happened to Hazel?”
She glanced down, “I’m afraid I don’t, I thought you would know.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“I mean, you were the one who was with her that day she...” Lola trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air.
“I wasn’t with her, something came up and I couldn’t go.” Christina walked back to the car, drove home in a state of confusion. She needed to call Wilson. He could make her understand what was going on.
He picked up on the second ring. “Christina?”
“Yea, sorry about before, but I need you to help me come up with ideas for this case. I’m confused.”
“What do you know so far?”
“I went to the club, talked to a hobo who told me that Hazel was with a girl who looked like me, Lola told me I was at the party, and I don’t see how it could have been me. I wasn’t there.”
Wilson was quiet. When he did speak, he said, “hmm. Well it does explain before when you didn’t remember you left the cabin at night.”
Christina said, “What explains that?”
“You have split personality disorder.”
Christina hung up the phone and continued home.
٥٥٥
She fixed herself a cup of Koffee and settled into a chair. Thoughts danced in her head. “She had blond hair, kind of like yours, I mean, you were the one who was with her that day she..., you have split personality disorder.”
No way, she couldn’t have killed Hazel, it wasn’t her. She wasn’t there. Split personality disorder?
She racked her brain trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. She found none. Calling Wilson only complicated things.
The Koffee tasted bitter so she searched for sugar. Christina looked around the cupboard but didn’t see any so she checked the pantry. A new container of sugar sat on the third shelf. As she reached for it, a plastic bag caught her attention. Forgetting the sugar, she took the bag and realized what was sealed in it, a red dress. Her red dress. She unzipped the bag, scared to see the undeniable truth as she lifted the dress up to find what she was afraid of, there was a piece missing, and it matched perfectly with the piece from the scene.
٥٥٥
No. No. No. No. No matter how much she hated the possibility of having a split personality disorder, she was really starting to consider it. There was no other explanation for how all the events that happened could be explained.
She needed proof it was her, she snatched the keys from the table and went to pay the man a second visit.
She found him roughly, in the same area he was in the last time she saw him. He noticed she was coming at him and tried to escape but she reached him before he could.
“It wasn’t me, couldn’t have been. Here, I’ll give you 15 dollars if you tell me the truth, please, tell me it wasn’t me.”
He stared at the money in front of him, bit his lip and gave in. “fine. “He took the money and said. “A guy paid me to tell whoever asked me about a murder that a blond girl was with her.”
She just blinked. She didn’t really think he had anything to tell her, she just wanted to check. “Can you tell me what he looks like?”
“He had green eyes, not too tall, sort of brown hair.”
٥٥٥
Christina felt overwhelmed. She drove to Wilson’s cabin again planning to confront him about what she discovered. When she got there, she noticed he was not home and so she went in to wait for him. She was about to put her bag down, when she heard the floorboard squeak under her. Looking down, she saw it was loose, kneeled to the ground, and lifted it up. Under, there were papers and pictures of Hazel. She let out a gasp and jumped up, anxious to get out before Wilson returned.
The sound of police cars pierced the air. Wilson was going to jail. How could he have murdered Hazel and framed her? Christina could not understand.
When Wilson pulled into the driveway and saw the police cars, and her. He tried to back out but just then, another police car drove in front of the driveway, trapping him.
“Get out of the vehicle and put your hands behind your head.” An officer commanded.
Wilson did. He looked at Christina, as he was being handcuffed.
She couldn’t find words to say to him. What could she say to someone, a brother, who killed her friend? So she didn’t say anything. They drove off, Wilson in the back of a car, leaving Christina alone outside the cabin.
She had solved the case, just didn’t expect it to end the way it had. She made her way home, sat on her sofa, contemplating life as she stared into the fireplace, a stack of cases sitting on the Koffee table.