Chapter 1
It was a balmy fall night. The moon shined brightly overhead as people lie slumbering in their beds. No traffic disturbed the quiet of the neighborhood, most people having returned to their homes after a Friday not of partying. The two figures moved stealthily through the streets in search of the address they were given. Their eyes watched the streets for any sign of late night revelers returning home.
The lead man spotted the apartment building they were searching for and beckoned his partner in crime to follow. Most of the people in the building were old, if they were quiet, they should be in and out of the apartment quickly. The partner carried the bulky item swiftly up the stairs and they found the apartment they were searching for. The lead man made quick work of the locks on the door and the pair entered with their package. The second man laid their package down on the floor and the two of them began to search the living room.
Katrina lie in bed dreaming of sandy beaches and robust men when she was suddenly yanked out of her dream. She shot straight up in bed, her heart pounding at a staccato beat. She clutched her comforter to her chest and began taking slow deep breaths, trying to calm her rampaging heart. Slowly her heartbeat returned to normal. She glanced at the clock on her night stand, it was 3:31 a.m.
She had no clue what had awakened her, but she was up now. She looked around her bedroom and found it encased in shadows. She closed her eyes for a couple of seconds then opened them again. As her eyes began to focus, she could make out several things in the room. The closet door came into focus along with her dresser and mirror.
She could finally tell what most of the things in the room were, yet the room still unsettled her. She settled back under the covers and tried to figure out why she’d shot straight-up in bed in the first place. Then she heard it. The rattle of keys and the scraping of wood, the sounds were coming from the living room. Someone was in the apartment and he was rambling through their things. The soft voice murmuring “shit!” Propelled her mind into overdrive. Allison was out of town for the weekend so it wasn’t likely she’d brought someone home.
Katrina’s heart began its' staccato beat once again. Thoughts were flowing through her mind at an alarming rate. There was someone in her apartment and they were looking for something. She looked around her room, searching for unwanted intruders. Why is someone breaking into our apartment? Do they think we have stuff worth stealing? Who cares, I need to get out of here!
Katrina sent up a prayer of thanks to the man above when she remembered there was a fire escape outside her bedroom window. She quickly crept out of bed trying not to make a sound. She slipped on her house shoes, crossed to the window grabbing her cell phone, car keys, and cross-body bag in the process. The rambling seemed louder to her ears and she could hear footsteps. She realized the intruder was making his way down the hall toward her bedroom. The footsteps changed course causing Katrina to release a sigh of relief. The rambling started again, this time much closer. The intruder was in Allison’s room. It wouldn’t take him long to realize there was nothing in there.
Katrina looked at the bedroom window. It was slightly cracked open. “Now is not the time for this window to creak, Lord please let it open smoothly,” she sent up a silent prayer. She pulled on the window and it soundlessly slid up. She climbed out the window and slowly lowered it, leaving it slightly cracked. She stood on the fire escape for several seconds weighing her options, she couldn't decide whether to go up or down the fire escape. If she went down, she might run into whoever was in her apartment. Concluding that running into burglars in a dark alley wouldn't be a good idea, going up seemed like a safer choice.
Katrina climbed to the third floor of the fire escape, but still didn’t feel safe. She climbed one more flight of the fire escape before sitting down to call the police. Each number she pressed on her cell phone key pad sounded like thunder to her ears considering the stillness of the night. She noticed she was shaking. She became more nervous the longer the police took to answer. Just when Katrina thought she’d lose her mind, the call was picked up.
“911, state your name and emergency”.
“My name is Katrina Castillo. Someone just broke into my apartment at 921 Russet Street Apartment 2C.”
“And where is the intruder now?”
“He's still in my apartment. Can you please send someone?”
“Where are you now Ms.?”
“I am on the fire escape on the fourth floor of my building.”
“I'm dispatching a car to you now. Stay on the line with me.”
Katrina held the phone close to her ear and began taking deep, even breaths trying to calm herself down. After taking several deep breaths, she began to notice a burning smell. She cautiously took another deep breath to confirm her suspicions. “Hey, ma’am, ma’am!”
“Yes, miss, calm down, you need to stay calm.”
“I smell smoke!”
“Do you see any smoke or flames?” asked the dispatcher.
“No, but I smell smoke and its getting stronger,” Katrina stood up and walked a couple of steps down the fire escape. The smell of smoke was getting stronger. She moved to the third floor and leaned down, there was a red glow coming from one of the windows in her apartment.
“My apartment’s on fire!”
“I’m dispatching the fire department. You need to get off of the fire escape now!” said the dispatcher.
“But what if the intruder is downstairs waiting on me?” said Katrina as she cautiously began to move down the fire escape.
“You should be hearing sirens any second now. The intruder will leave when he hears the police sirens. Your common burglar runs when interrupted during a burglary, he won't stick around," replied the dispatcher.
"What if he isn't a common burglar?" replied Katrina, stopping her downward descent.
"Ma'am, only 10% of home invasions end in death, but 25% of fires end in death due to smoke inhalation. I can hear the sirens through your phone. Get off that fire escape!”
Katrina began climbing down the fire escape as quickly and quietly as humanly possible. She was so nervous she dropped her cell phone. She looked down to see where it had fallen. She faltered for a moment, she was about to change her mind and stay on the fire escape. Her psyche told her she might need to call 911 again and her phone was on the ground. She continued the rest of the way down the fire escape. When she reached her phone she noticed that the call to 911 had disconnected during the fall. The police might be on their way, but they’re not here now. It would be just my luck the intruder is hanging around waiting on me, she thought. She slowly sneaked towards the front of the building and peeked around the corner. All was quiet except for the wail of sirens heading in her direction. There was no one on the streets. Katrina was about to step out of the alley and onto the street when the front door of her apartment building forcefully swung open. A short hooded figure ran out of the building and headed north, in the opposite direction of the sirens. She didn’t get a good look at the individual, but noted that the figure appeared male. He was short and muscularly built. She watched the individual turn the corner.
A police cruiser screeched to a halt in front of her a minute later.
“Ma’am are you Ms. Castillo?”
“Yes, a man just left the building. He went that way and turned the corner!”
“Can you describe him?” asked one of the officers.
“He was short, and had on a dark hoodie and dark pants, the clothes could have been black, but I’m not sure. I didn’t get a look at his face, but he looked muscular. His upper part of his body was bigger.”
The officer grabbed his radio and relayed the information to dispatch. He was turning to get back in the car when Katrina remembered the apartment.
“Officer! My apartments on fire!” she nearly yelled.
&nb
sp; “Are all you neighbors home?
“Yeah, there are mostly older couples in my building. They rarely go out at night. The only person that might be gone is Mr. Peterson in 3B. He works midnights at the Morae Hotel.”
“Sampson, we need to get these people out of the building!”
“I’m on it O’Bryan,” said Officer Sampson as he ran to the building and started pushing people’s doorbells.
“Ms. Castillo we need you to wait by the police car.”
“Sampson, I’m going to knock on doors while you ring the bells in case someone doesn’t wake up, dispatch has already notified the fire department and they should be here any minute.” Officer O’Bryan ran into the building. Katrina walked over to the cruiser scanning the street as she did so. It would be just her luck that the intruder came back while the police were busy evacuating her building.
The sound of sirens was getting louder. The fire department arrived and assisted in the evacuation of the building. Katrina stood next to the police cruiser, in mild shock from the nights’ events. Several of her neighbors had come over to see how she was doing and to commiserate on the events of the night.
The fire department announced that it was safe for residents to go to their apartments to gather a few things. The fire chief insisted they find alternative sleeping arrangements for the night. He informed them that all residents would be able to return to their apartments on tomorrow evening. Katrina and Allison would have to find alternative sleeping arrangements until the apartment was repaired.
Most of the residents of the building were just milling around. No one appeared ready to re-enter the building. Katrina was watching as Mr. Carr comforted Mrs. Carr, when she noticed two Detectives approaching her. One of the detectives was Caucasian with blonde hair, green-eyes, about 5’11 with an athletic build. The other detective was African American, about 6’3, muscular, brown eyes and light complexioned. Both were wearing identical looks on their faces. Suddenly a vehicle pulling up behind them, caught her eye. It was the coroner’s van. Someone hadn’t made it out of the fire safely after all.
Katrina looked around to see which of her neighbors was unaccounted for, she saw Mr. and Mrs. Green from apartment 2A, Mr. and Mrs. Carr from apartment 2B, the Johnsons from apartment 3A, the Bronsworth from apartment 3C, and the owner of the store Mr. Charles who lives in the apartment behind his store. Katrina let out a sigh of relief, all of her neighbors were accounted for, no one seemed to be missing. But why is the coroner's van here? She thought. Katrina dropped her head and said a silent prayer for the poor soul that had been lost in the fire.
“Excuse me, Ms. Castillo, I’m Det. Johns and this is Det. Christian. We were wondering do you have a roommate?” said the detective.
“Yes, she went to D.C. today to visit her parents, she’ll be back late Sunday night.”
“Did you have company staying over tonight?” asked Det. Johns.
“No, why?”
“What is your roommate’s name?” asked Det. Christian.
“Allison Kessing, why?” she asked in vexation.
“Do you have a picture of your roommate Ms. Castillo?” asked Det. Johns.
“Yes, why?” asked Katrina. She was starting to feel like a ping pong ball going back and forth between these two. They continued to ask questions but never answered any.
“Ms. Castillo, there was a female body found in your apartment, partially burned. We need to determine if it is your roommate’s.” said Det. Christian.
“Allison left this afternoon, I dropped her off at the airport myself, it can’t be her!” Katrina started shaking. She couldn’t believe what the detectives were saying. It wasn’t Allison she thought. It couldn't be, she prayed.
“Ms. Castillo, I need you to calm down, and locate the picture that you have of your roommate.”
Katrina frantically searched her cross over bag trying to find her wallet as quickly as possible. When she finally located it she pulled it out so fast that it fell to the ground. She bent to pick it up but her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped it again.
“Ms. Castillo, I can get that for you, just hold on a minute, take some deep breaths, it’s going to be okay,” said Det. Johns. He reached down and picked up her wallet, some money and two pictures fell out of it. He retrieved those from the ground. “Is this your roommate?” he asked pointing at a picture of Allison and herself during homecoming at State University last year.
“Yes, that’s Allison.”
“This isn’t the body we found upstairs in your living room, Ms. Castillo,” said Det. Christian.
Katrina’s entire body relaxed and a sigh of relief escaped her lips. Allison was alright. Her calm state was short lived before she asked the inevitable question, “Then who is it?”