CHAPTER NINE || IX || MATTHEW

Matthew (McCray)

IX.

***

"Good evening, Matthew." The agent grinned. I scooted up in my chair and looked at him. He continued, "I just wanna ask you a few things, and then you'll be outta here." He wagered.

"What do you wanna know man?" I put both hands on the table.

"Why are you investigating these crime scenes?" He asked bluntly.

"Why aren't you?" I rebutted and folded my arms, turning my nose up.

"Answer the question, Matthew." He hissed. “I know you’ve got yourself a little team.”

"Vinny was our friend, a’right? You guys been lying since the start about him." I clenched my teeth. "Y’all called him a drunk and said he crashed! Vinny didn't even drink!" I dropped the stuffed file onto the table, "There’s so much you guys keep missing.” I showed him pages of stitched polaroids, crime scene photos, and confidential evidence then I slid a stack of papers bound by a paperclip out of the middle of the file. “These weird runes at each crime scene, how each victim is murdered in similarly brutal ways, how fuckin' bizarre that Winar family is. Y’all know everything!" I snapped, "This system is fuckin' corrupt."

He sat back in his chair, "Runes?" He shook his head in disbelief. “I doubt they had time for art class.”

I rolled my eyes and let out an annoyed exhale, "There’s a rune at each crime scene.”

"Interesting," He leaned forward over the table as he continued, "Do you have the pictures of these runes?"

I snorted. "I'm sure you have them, they were at the crime scenes." I shrugged but slid the photos toward Agent Kumar anyway. "I study the occult," I continued, "Runes when channeled correctly, hold great power," I tapped on the print-out image in front of me, singling out the 'life' rune. "This is the 'life rune', it symbolizes new beginnings, birth, protection…," I pointed at the runes illustrated at the crime scenes, "This, on the other hand, is the inverted, or opposite, version of this rune. Meaning death, the end, war." I spread out each crime scene photo across the table, a rune sketched in blood in each one. "I think the killer practices witchcraft. Black magick, right here in Venice City."

Detective Kumar let out a chuckle and teased, "Magic?" He shook his head, "Or maybe the guy is just nuts and thinks it’s real."

I insisted, "The occult is real. Magic doesn't come in a witch-on-a-broomstick-shaped package, my man." I looked back down at the spread on the table.

"Matthew, I get it." Agent Kumar analyzed all the evidence, "You're trying to figure out what happened to your friend. I really do get it." He slid the photos over to himself and stacked them neatly on his side of the table, "To be honest, I’m almost a little impressed you got a whole group to help you.” We held eye contact for a moment. I wasn’t selling the Council out, if he thought this was the reason for it, so be it. He slid everything into his own file. “I'll take all of this into consideration but this is confidential, it's actually extremely illegal to have it in your possession." A hint of mischief flickered in his eyes as he placed his file into his lap.

"No fuckin' way! You can't take my shit, man!" I slammed my palms down on the table and stood, "There's no fuckin' way!"

"There is a way. Sit down, Matthew." The agent raised his hand in defense and looked at me. "This is the way, you're stepping into dangerous territory. What are you gonna do if he decides to kill you next? You think a murderer is gonna take kindly to some random hunting him down?"

“I’m not afraid.” I paused for a moment, considering the outcome. There is no way this dickhead is taking everything. Is this what they wanted? How did they know we were at Aurelia's in the first place? "Do you guys have me tapped or something? You guys bugged my house?" I accused, "How the fuck you pigs even know we were looking?"

Agent Kumar chuckled and then stood, "Matthew, we see everything you search. It's not hard to figure out if we need to know." He motioned towards the door, "It's been a pleasure brainstorming with you but our time here is done. I know Officer Brookes would love to have a word with you." I seethed at his, very obvious, power trip. All my hard work is down the drain. It took months to get all of those photos and now it's in the hands of this asshole who already had it. For Christ's sake, he was a detective! I stormed out of the room and towards the front of the station, plopping next to Aurelia.

"Holy shit, McCray. Are you good? Where're your papers?" She questioned.

"He fuckin' took them," I muttered and pinched the bridge of my nose. Stolen right from me, gone. "Fuck, man." I cursed under my breath.

"That woman's been talking to Ziggy forever…" Aurelia spoke softly, "You think she's trying to get him to incriminate himself?"

"Incriminate? What the hell are you even talking about, Aurelia." I growled under my breath, "He hasn't done anything to incriminate himself."

She brought her voice down to a whisper, "I think these cops have it out for him though…" She looked around the waiting room, “It’s like they think he knows something.”

I sighed, "Of course, they think he knows what I know.” I whispered, “He’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t say anything about Terry or the Council.”

An officer approached Aurelia and me, "Matthew McCray?" He asked, looking around.

"That'd be me." I stood.

"Follow me," The officer demanded and led me toward the interrogation room. As we approached, Ziggy opened the door and stepped out. His left eye was swollen shut.

"Jesus Christ, are you alright?" I was beyond shocked. “What the fuck happened?” Aurelia, you may be onto something.

Ziggy nodded and slid past me, mumbling, "These cops are shady as fuck." The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I entered the room and Officer Brookes was sat on one side. I stood at the door for a moment. "Take a seat, McCray." She pointed to the chair across from her. Instead, I looked at the large mirror on the wall. "Sit." I looked to the chair then decided to comply. She folded her hands on the table and then leaned forward, "I've heard a bit about you from our good friend Ziggy," She babbled confidently, "I hear you're pretty good at researching things."

"You know nothing about me lady," I said. "I didn't know Zig was friends with a pig. Is that how you guys knew what I was doing?" I questioned mostly to myself. He didn't even believe you at first when you said you thought Vinny’s death was staged. He looked at you like you had six eyes. All of a sudden he wants to help you out? You should've known! I looked to the floor as the voice grew louder. How could you not have known Matthew!

Officer Brookes sucked her teeth, "Don't doubt your friend, McCray," she shook her head, "He did nothing but protect you in here." I wasn't even sure if I was being set up or not. "I wanna know your thoughts. What you said in the hall, I'm not like these other cops. Really." Her tone softened.

"I don't think you'll believe what I tell you." I made direct eye contact with her this time, "And your little suit buddy took all my research so now I don't have shit to show you." I sighed heavily and sat back in defeat.

"Agent Kumar did give me everything," She said, sliding the file next to her across the table to me. I sat up in excitement, "We could go over the things you know, maybe put what you know with what I know and come up with some kind of plan." I faltered.

"I don't think so." I folded my arms, "You're gonna make me tell you what I know and then not tell me shit." I huffed. “I’m not a cop, you can’t “make a plan” with me.”

"McCray you gotta give me some trust here man." Officer Brookes pleaded.

"I want to be able to keep my research.” I said, “Then maybe I'll trust you a little."

"I can make that happen. I just need to know what you know." Her eyes met mine, "Agent Kumar told me that you find the Winar family to be 'bizarre', why's that?"

"They own this land, man." I confessed and let my shoulders fall, "The Winars own the very chairs we sit in. They've been building South Beach since, like, the late 1800s."

"Okay so you got a rich family who owns the island, what's your theory, though?" Officer Brookes bossed and leaned back in her chair.

I placed my hand over the file and opened it, "The Winars always live where these murders take place." I pulled out the newspaper clippings of the massacre in Ridgemaple. "Every single crime had a witness statement from a Winar, up until the 60s. But that's not even the really weird part." I slid over a paper titled 'GROHOL', "In the 30s, I believe, the Winar family disappeared and abandoned their youngest son, Richard." Officer Brookes's eyebrows raised as I continued, "He was taken to an orphanage in downtown Ridgemaple and two weeks later, he was adopted by a 'Paige Grohol'…" I shuffled through the papers. "There's no record of a Paige Grohol even existing. Years later, Richard marries a woman with the same exact last name as the woman who adopted him."

Officer Brookes covered her mouth in disgust. “Oh, don't tell me —”.

I amused her thoughts with a nod. “Yeah, it seems incestual." I confirmed then slid over a file labeled 'BUCKER', "It may not be though, especially if the last name is fake." I opened the file, "Vincent Bucker Jr, which happens to be Betany's father, sought financial and emotional help from his mother Greta." Officer Brookes's eyes lit up and she wrote into the notepad in front of her.

She stopped writing, "Wait, so who's Betany's mother?" She looked up at me.

I looked back down and swallowed hard, "That'd be Angela Grohol, I believe it was in the 80s when she went missing. The whole family played it off as if she went on a vacation and then she just never returned."

"This Grohol alias might be fake. I'm gonna have to pull some strings to figure out about that." Officer Brookes mumbled and underlined the page.

"It has to be fake,” I flipped to the next page and turned the file to her, “After Angela’s disappearance, Richard and Betany both were detained. After they gave their alibi, I’m assuming the police ruled them out as suspects so they let them go.” I bit the inside of my cheek, “But Betany kept asking questions, and one day, she disappeared too." I looked down at the medical file for Richard. "Richard Winar was deemed clinically insane after his interrogation regarding Betany’s disappearance. He said some off-the-wall shit during it, I'm assuming, considering that part is redacted." Officer Brookes tapped on the table, her eyes glued to my papers. "You know what he said, right?" I asked and then pulled the medical file to my chest.

"I only know about ‘Lady G’ somehow fitting into this, now I know how." She said and put out her hand, "Let me take a look at that medical file one more time, and then I'll tell you what I know." I obliged.

She read the paper over a few times. "I’m just learning about the Winars myself. Most I know; the person doing this is extremely smart. Hell, maybe even extremely wealthy. So, you may not be far off the mark." She grimaced then paused, assumingly thinking over her next few words, "I interrogated a woman who might've seen this guy up close." Officer Brookes's head hung in shame.

My curiosity was piqued, "What’d he look like?" I drew in a quick breath. She just stayed silent for a minute.

"She described him like a monster." She kept her gaze on her lap. "Said he had yellow eyes and pointy cheeks, she said he was smiling at her. Really weird shit.

A lump got caught in my throat and I swallowed hard. "Yellow eyes?" A mental image of that dog flashed into my mind, its teeth baring and charging at the car. "Djamila said it was a man though right?" Officer Brookes nodded. You can’t say anything to her. At this rate, people would have you committed. You can’t say anything. I cleared my throat, "Am I free to go?" I scooted up in my seat to grab the file. She slid them to herself.

She scoffed, slightly in amusement, "I'll be mailing you," She looked down to my files, "‘your’ things to you as soon as I can but yeah you're free to go."

I sucked my teeth, "Thanks, Officer." I grumbled then left the room and my way to the waiting room. Aurelia was blubbering, as usual, and she held an ice pack to Ziggy's eye. She was yelling at the officers, screaming every curse word in the dictionary, her free hand flailing about angrily. Ziggy looked at me and stood. Aurelia's attention instantly broke from her temper tantrum and she stood up behind him, looking at me expectantly.

"You good, bro?" He slung his arm over my shoulder and we left the station. Aurelia strutted in front of us as we made our way down the block.

"I'm good man," I side-eyed him, "The real question is if you're okay?"

He chuckled and playfully yanked his arm from my shoulders. "You think I can't take a punch?" He playfully clutched his chest in offense. "What'd Lo tell you?" He questioned.

"Honestly, I think I told her more than she told me. I feel kinda played." I rolled my eyes. "I'm redoing the entire case portfolio, I don't care if she's gonna send it back or not. I don't trust them. The police and the media have been sweeping this shit under the rug since the 1900s man!" I sped up my walking. You need to be quick, Matthew. "We're going to my place." I declared. There is no more walking around in the dark, it’s time to take things into your own hands.

We arrived at my house and I situated myself in my room with papers and textbooks everywhere. I booted up my desktop. As it turned on, my thoughts roamed to what Officer Brookes told me about the yellow-eyed man. That thing in the woods was no man, it was a monster but that can't be a coincidence, it had to be connected to this case. I hunched over my desk and read over every occult, religious text, and paranormal phenomenon book in my bookcase. My eyes burned from lack of sleep and I could feel myself growing more anxious as the morning slowly crept in. Both Aurelia and Ziggy had fallen asleep hours ago and remained in their deep slumber in the living room. After a few hours, I flicked my gaze to the enormous mahogany clock on my wall and smiled. I had enough time till the post office opened. I collected all the newfound research and placed the papers in a small cardboard box. I straightened out my hair, grabbed the box, and hurried to the post office on the other side of town. Once I arrived, I placed the box in the hands of a lady at the counter and asked for it to be sent first class to Terry Oakman. After I paid for it, she smiled in return and waved goodbye. I could've sworn I heard her whisper, "Good luck" as I left the post office.

I smiled and something in my head clicked. This was the turning point for the Council. These documents were going to help break the case open.