THE CASE OF BRIDGETTE HAWTHORNE

The smell of roasted coffee filled the entire place. The Police Officer and this other girl were sitting in front of her.

She handed both of them freshly brewed coffees as she stood still behind the bar sipping from her own mug.

There's no one else inside the coffee shop so that gave them enough time to actually talk to each other.

"I... I don't know how this happened." the woman sitting beside the police officer was flushed out with what just happened.

She noticed how they all seemed so familiar with each other yet still strangers.

"Well.." she spoke. "Why don't we start by introducing each other?"

They each looked at each other.

"Okay let me start. I'm Yvette. I work here." she tried to smile as she looked around the entire coffee shop. "And I am also a student, Psychology. How about you?" she motioned towards the other woman sitting beside the police officer.

She sighed as she still looked flushed after what happened.

"I'm Jamie. I'm a Photographer."

"Nice to meet you, Jamie." She admired her Auburn-colored hair. "And how about you?" she now turned to the Police Officer who also looked just as flushed out as Jamie.

"I'm Darius. Well, obviously, I am a Police Officer."

She smiled. He too seemed really confused about what's happening. But she doesn't blame him. It was a one-of-a-kind phenomenon.

"I think that what just happened to us was some kind of Transcendence."

"What is that?" Darius was skeptical but was definitely curious.

"It's a superior state. Something that humankind has gone beyond physically. We usually have dreams right? The usual once. But what happened to us is an example of transcendence. We've gone beyond the limits of our dreams due to perhaps a recent stress or incident. It reached a point where we have shared our dreams."

"Well, I have a different kind of gift. Retrocognition. I can visit the past and literally see everything that has happened." Jamie answered.

"Well, that's something new," she replied.

"But that does not really explain how we all could be in the same past event."

"What do you mean?" Darius looked at her.

"That dream we've just been to, I have dreamed about it before. I have visited that dream before. It's an unsolved case fifty years ago."

"Well, that's definitely odd. I can see ghosts or spirits. I can even communicate with them but I have to use spells to do that. It's sort of something that I chose to shut-off and activate just when I really need it."

"So what am I? I just had that dream, didn't I? And yesterday, I saw this spirit or ghost blocking my car. And it so happened that she was the same woman who was killed in a case I was assigned to."

The room turned silent again.

"We will know soon. But for now, I know that there's a reason why we all meet. That dream could mean something. We were made to meet for a reason. I'm sure of that."

All of a sudden, Darius' phone rang.

"I have to take this."

Both of them nodded as they continued to take a sip of their coffees.

"Yep? I'm just around the corner. Don't worry. Okay. I'll be there in five."

He turned off his phone and went back to his recently emptied seat.

"I have to go. But maybe we can talk about all of this again?"

"Well, I'm here all week." she smiled at both of them.

Jamie at the same time stood up.

"Hey!" she called out to them. "I know we've just met. But I am really happy to have found both of you. It's not all the time I get to meet people who have the same gift as I have. Relatively."

They both smiled meekly. As they both got out of the coffee shop, she started preparing again. This time around, with a light happy heart.

*************

He reached the station after a five minutes walk from the coffee shop.

As soon as he got there, his colleague came to him and handed him a bulky brown folder.

On the side was a label "Bridgette Hawthorne". His brows furrowed as the name seemed really familiar.

"Bridgette Hawthorne. She's an actress who was killed five years ago. No witnesses, no suspects. It was a murder mystery that year. But now, we've got a new lead."

They both entered the other side of the interrogation room.

Beyond the one-way mirror, a man was sitting alone. He was looking around as though trying to figure out how he could get out of the room.

"That.. is Giacomo Bunzl. He said he killed Bridgette Hawthorne." his colleague met his eyes.

"So why are you handing me the case? Don't we have a cold case department?"

"Yes. Except that, your Jane Doe? She and Bridgette Hawthorne are related. Forensics just gave out their results." he handed him another folder. "The woman killed yesterday, is Elizabeth Hawthorne, Bridgette's sister."

"But I thought she was alone."

"She was. Turns out, they had bad blood since they were teenagers. They haven't talked to each other ever since they left their home. But now, they are both dead. And this man here suddenly appeared with a confession to killing Bridgette Hawthorne."

"That means, he could have killed her too."

"Yep. So, this doesn't belong to the cold case anymore. He is all yours."

He nodded as he left that side of the room and proceeded on getting inside the other end.

As he stepped inside, the man's eyes settled on him.

He took his time as he sat down in front of him.

"Mr. Bunzl is it?"

Bunzl simply nodded.

"Mr. Bunzl, you've been read your rights I believe."

He nodded once again.

"Do you have a lawyer you wanna make a phone call before we proceed?"

"No."

"I understand. Let's proceed then. I have here a statement of your confession towards the death of Bridgette Hawthorne. Would you mind telling me what is your relationship with Miss Hawthorne?"

That was when he started fidgeting. He suddenly got sweaty and unsettled.

"I... I am a colleague from way back. Back when she was just a waitress. Before she was even popular."

"Did you and Miss Hawthorne meet regularly?"

"Not at all. She made sure of that."

"What do you mean?"

"I get settlements from her every month."

"What kind of settlement?"

"You see, she had an affair with our ex-employer. And they were doing things even in the workplace. One day, I was early and found them doing the deed. So I took a photo and a video of the entire thing. I didn't know I would be able to use it in the future."

"Can you tell me what you mean by using it in the future?"

"Soon enough she became popular. And I found that incident as an opportunity. So I took advantage of that. I threatened her that I would send it out to a reporter who could expose her. And she was too protective of her reputation that she agreed to settle with me. At first, it was all good, I get my money every month and I get to be quiet about what I have."

He sighed as he saw a hint of satisfaction from this man.

"But after a year or two, she stopped giving me those settlements. I got irritated and started harassing her into giving me my money back. But she changed her phone number, her email and found a way to hack all of my devices and made sure they'd delete every record I have of that video. But she didn't know I kept a copy. But that bit** continued to ignore me. So... I planned how I could get back at her. And so, I killed her."

"Can you tell me exactly what happened that day?"

"She was alone that night. As she usually is. I stalked her for an entire year. I had to take note of her routines, her schedules. That night, she was alone. She didn't have anyone with her that night. So I went up to her building and pretended that I was a mailman. I knocked but no one was answering the door, and you know, she is not known for being careful. Her door was unlocked. So I got in. I found her inside the shower, taking a bath. I wanted to wait for her but something in my head just keeps whispering. A voice kept telling me that I have to do it. That I have to kill her."

"What do you mean voices?"

"Voices. They live inside your head you know. And sometimes, they take over you. That's what happened to me. After that, I was oblivious to everything that happened. I could not even recall how I got out of there. But I saw her face. Her beautiful face. She was lifeless and I saw tears from her eyes."

"Why are you here now Mr. Bunzl?"

"Because I have to be."

His brows arched from what the man said.

"What do you mean because you have to?"

Suddenly, his laughter filled the room. There was a frightening crisp to the sound of his laughter.

"The voices, they said it was part of a plan."

He was even more intrigued.

"What Plan?"

Suddenly, the laughter stopped. Slowly, his eyes started to roam around before he could stare back at him. He also noticed how his eyes seemed too weary.

"You will know soon. But right now, the voices,.. that's all they're telling me. That it is all part of a plan."

His laughter once again filled the room.

He looked at his eyes. He seemed to have seen a devilish aura from his eyes.

That feeling suddenly started creeping towards his insides.

"Mr. Bunzl, do you know Elizabeth Hawthorne?"

He suddenly stopped laughing.

"No, I don't."

"She is Bridgette's sister. A day ago she was also killed. Did you kill her?"

His face shifted to sudden anger.

"I didn't but perhaps she deserved it too."

And then another laughter filled the room.

He stood up, grabbed the folders on the table, and walked out of the room.

He didn't kill Bridgette's sister. Once again, the case is getting colder.