Another Piece Of The Puzzle

Clair slowly approached the group of boys and they stopped their little game when they saw her. They looked at her with uninterested eyes and she smiled, holding up the picture. "Excuse me; can you help me look at this photo? Have you ever seen this man?"

She pointed at the man that Bobby was aiming his gun at. The group of boys peeked closer and they seemed to be thinking hard. This gave Clair hope…just a little.

Then the boys shook their heads in unison. "You haven't seen him around?"

They nodded. "No…"

Clair was beginning to feel like a fool for coming over here on impulse. Cruderia was a very large place and she couldn't go around asking like this. The next best thing she could think of was to upload the photo online and use it that way to get more attention but then again, she hesitated.

What if this other man had been killed? If so then her looking for him would raise questions about her identity and the police or worse, the group of people who killed Bobby might come running to her.

At this moment, one of the boys smiled. "I think my memory is a bit cloudy…maybe you can help clear it up." He said this while rubbing his index finger on his thumb.

Clair understood the meaning behind such gesture. She was, nonetheless, taken aback. "You want money?"

"If you mean to find that man."

"Alright, here." She pulled out $5 from her purse and handed it to the boy. The boy shook his head making the rest to snicker but they still stuck closer.

Clair frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Give me twenty." The boy said with a sly smile.

Clair gave him a look but in the end she sighed. She was the one in need of information and this kid could just walk away without losing a thing whereas she would lose much more. Twenty wasn't that bad.

She fished out the $20 and gave it to him. He pocketed the money and then smiled broadly. "Thanks for the donation."

The boy spun on his heels faster than Clair could reach out to grab him. The moment it dawned on her that he was going to run away with her money, she gave a chase however, the moment she took the fourth step, one of the boys tripped her.

"Ah!" Clair cried out as she crashed on the ground with a thud. She rolled to her back and propped herself up but the boys were scattered into different direction. She cursed under her breath and threw a handful of dirt at no one in particular. "Damn it, I got scammed!"

She slowly stood up and dusted her clothes then picked up the photo that had fallen to the side and continued forward.

….

Oliver soon arrived at the bar and went straight towards the bar counter. Steve was seated there and he had a glass of drink in his hand—one which he continuously swirled around.

Oliver approached him and sat down beside him. "Have you been here long?"

Steve shook his head. "I only arrived and wondered where you were."

Oliver scratched his head with a smile. "I wanted you to feel a taste of being left to sit alone while waiting for someone to show up. You always come late to meet me."

"Smart me then," Steve tipped his glass to him. "I worried that Valerie had actually killed you."

Oliver's face turned sour and he scowled. He turned to the bar tender and ordered another bottle of beer. Today he didn't feel like drinking too much and it was only 7.

Steve gave him a scrutinizing stare then said, "I take it you didn't speak with Valerie about what happened that night?"

He shook his head. "I couldn't. You don't know neither can you imagine what it's like to go home and have her glare at you with those lifeless eyes. I detest her!"

Steve watched his comical display and only smiled. "You really don't detest her. That said, I have news."

Oliver straightened up. "What's the news?"

Steve showed him the photo he had printed out. It was the photo from the other day where they had concluded that someone had dragged Oliver into the hotel. The photo was blurry back then and one could barely make out the silhouettes but now it was clear.

"How did you do this?"

"It was hard, I admit but you'll compensate me later." Steve smiled while sipping his beer.

Oliver looked more intensely at the photo. The photo showed him, Oliver—though a little blurred—and the other man. The man was dragging him towards the hotel and through the angle of the photo; he couldn't really make out the details of the action the photo depicted.

"He was dragging me inside!" Oliver gasped in shock.

"Yes, and that means only one thing."

Oliver stood up abruptly and proclaimed—with slightly lowered voice—"It means I was forced to the hotel! Someone brought me there while I was drunk and barely able to stand on my own! It proves that I didn't rape Valerie!"

Steve patted his shoulder and urged him to sit down. "It's true that you forced to the hotel but we still don't know if you were forced to rape her. We still can't prove your innocence."

"But this shows that I didn't do it purposefully!"

"Then this leaves the question, who is that man in the photo and who paid him to bring you here? What about those your friends? What about the bar owner? Things don't add up."

Oliver sat down again with a dejected look. He sighed and downed a glass of beer. "I thought it was just a bit closer."

"We're getting closer but we need more pieces to fix the puzzle."

"I have always suspected that the bar owner knew something. He never left his bar open past midnight but on that particular night he left it open till 2a.m. till I 'raped' Valerie and came back! It makes no sense!"

"Exactly my point. We need to speak to him."

"Agreed." Oliver looked at the man that was dragging him in the photo. His face was clearly seen and he looked like he was heaving for breath…as if he just ran a marathon.