The Most Beautiful Aftertaste
"Someone, go check the doormat. Make sure not to scatter the soil,” Officer James instructed.
Soil scraped from the new doormat was placed on white paper and compared to the soil in the bottle.
Everyone's eyes lit up instantly. The two small samples looked almost identical.
"This red soil from the new doormat is the one you brought in, right? Alison?"
"Yes."
"Where have you been recently?"
"Let's have these two samples tested first. If they're confirmed to be from the same place, I'll tell you, Officer James," Alison said.
“Can't you say now?” he countered.
“No,” she insisted.
If the test results were different, she wouldn't need to involve the Winstons.
Detective James shrugged regretfully, then immediately had the two soil samples taken back for analysis.
"Ms. Fairchild, I'll have the lab work through the night. If tomorrow morning's results show that the soil matches, you must tell me where the soil on your shoes came from."
"Of course." Alison nodded.
After leaving the floor where the murder had occurred, she decided to visit the CEO's office on the top floor.
Mia greeted her with a bright smile when she opened the door.
"When are you coming back to work, Alison?"
“Probably not for a while. Is the president here?"
"No, he just stepped out."
"Did he have an appointment with Miss Frost?" she asked casually.
Mia's expression shifted slightly before she forced a smile. "I believe so."
Only then did Alison relax.
She left the CEO's office and made her way to the rooftop terrace.
Standing in the wind and gazing at the blue sky, she was consumed by thoughts of Jack.
After leaving the building, the driver took her on a meandering drive through the city streets.
She watched passersby flash by on either side of the road, her eyes keeping scanning for Jack.
Most of the afternoon slipped away this way.
"Ma'am, who are you looking for? Shall I help you search?" The driver couldn't hold back any longer.
"I'm looking for Jack."
"Madam, Mr. Jack passed away long ago." He trailed off.
"He's not dead. I saw him last night. It's true. You have to believe me."
The driver froze, then pulled the car over. "Ma'am, is what you're saying true?"
"Yes," she murmured.
"Ma'am, let's go to the places he used to frequent. Name a place and I'll drive us there. Maybe we'll find him."
"All right."
The car stopped beneath the small attic apartment.
Alison got out. She walked to the end of the staircase and stood before the door but halted.
New tenants had moved into the attic, and children's clothes were hanging to dry on the rooftop.
A wave of disappointment washed over her.
Jack, where have you gone?
"Ma'am, might he have returned to where you used to live?" the driver remarked casually.
That sentence suddenly jolted her awake.
The apartment! Her heart surged with excitement.
At her urging, the car sped toward the apartment complex.
The closer they got, the harder her heart pounded.
Jack must be waiting for me there!
Before the car had even come to a complete stop, she dashed toward the elevator lobby.
As the elevator slowly ascended, she felt herself drawing nearer to him.
Panting, she stopped at the door, gently bent down, and carefully tilted the flowerpot. Beneath it, the key lay quietly. Her hand trembled as she picked it up.
She slipped the key into the lock softly, trying not to make a sound.