#patronagetask

There’s a knock on the door, as if the dimly lit room were her own chambers, and a visitor were requesting to come inside ( why must they carry on with the useless formalities now? isn’t time supposed to be treasured? she wonders. ) the suited man steps in anyway, bringing along a scent of cigarette smoke and minty cologne. 

    jill’s eyes, albeit faintly exhausted, remain sharp. they spot the stain on the coat’s cuff, the bags under the eyes and grey hairs around the temple area. he carries a funny-looking machine under his arm. there is no badge or name tag attached to the coat’s breast pocket. the ever so light sigh he produces oozes exhaustion and desperation -- 10+ years of working in the department, that’s her guess. it’s easy for her to read him like a book.  

   “ RIGHT. MY NAME IS DETECTIVE ALAN POWELL, ” his voice monotone, he takes the seat opposite to hers. the folder he previously held is dropped onto the table, and he fishes into the inside pocket of his coat for a pen. her mind drifts off for a moment, trying to guess who out of the town subjects has sat on the same chair she is currently occupying ---- leo is the first one that comes to mind, as it’s always been. did they stare him up and down too? did they force a smile to have him believe they were on his side? did they slam their fists on the table in an attempt to throw him off? whatever it was, it must not have been easy for him. lastly, she nods, offering him a smile rich in modesty. he toys with the machine after having set it down on the table. “ WE’LL APPRECIATE YOUR COMPLIANCE, AND PLEASE, DON’T HESITATE TO INCLUDE ANY DETAILS, NO MATTER HOW INSIGNIFICANT THEY MAY SEEM. ”

“ FIRSTLY, COULD YOU STATE YOUR FULL NAME, PLEASE ? ”

     “ ---- uhm, jillian packard. everybody just calls me jill, though.” 

       “ YOU HAVE A CLOSE RELATIONSHIP WITH LARISSA KEARNEY’S ADOPTED BROTHER, LEO, CORRECT? ”

oh, so that’s the thing. he’s their prime suspect, and that thought scares her.  

   “ ---- i do, yes, ” she expresses, her fingers intertwined as the grasp rests on the table. 

   “ HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW THE BOY?

  “ ---- very well. ”  how else could she put it? she knew leo well, certainly better than he knew her.  she knew of the scars that freckled his skin, and them being why he did not show his nude torso often. she knew of the prescription pills, cigarettes and liquor bottles he’d smuggled back when he was in high school. she knew of the sketches and drawings, and the nervous habits. there was a sense of shame that clouded the back of her mind whenever she thought of how well jill packard knew leo kearney. but the cops didn’t need to know that. “ we’ve been dating for a while now, close to a year, i’d say. we started dating after going to prom together the first time ” a crossed her features, like a shooting star cruising through the sky. her face sunk in a pond of fond recollection as she spoke, “ and i used to go over to the kearney’s all the time. they would... have me over for dinner, and in some cases, i even stayed over. leo and i would meet more often than that -- ” would being the keyword. now, it seemed as if they were yet another friendship, jill having sought to isolate herself from whatever reminder was there of larissa. something in her always stayed around for leo. however, she’d long reckoned that she had no business in the kearney’s home, especially now; it’d be best for her to stay away and let them mourn their daughter in peace. ‘ don’t kick someone when they’re down ’, right?  “ we’d go have dinner every now and then, or go stargazing. ” that was partially a lie. not willing to give them more reasons to shadow over leo, she figured they’d find it questionable that the two would get in his car and simply drive. perhaps, this was the paranoia getting ahold of her, but if someone knew how to tie up loose ends, it was jill. “ but that’s... a bit rare nowadays. we just... got busy with college arrangements -- ” lie -- “ and after larissa died... sorry, don’t mean to waste your time gettin’ emotional... ” she took in a deep breath, gesturing at him so as to ask being excused. “ well, we just started growing a bit distant. ”

    “ IS THERE A REASON YOU COULD ATTRIBUTE TO YOUR SPLIT ? ”

“ ---- oh, no, we’re still together. we’re just, you know, going through a rough patch. people change all the time, they fall out of love but find their way to each other just as quickly. larissa’s death, though, hasn’t been as easy to get over as that. we were really close to her -- especially him --, so we just... went onto mourn her in different ways. ”

  “ RIGHT. WHAT ABOUT HER, HOW WELL DID YOU KNOW LARISSA HERSELF ? ”

a soft smile reappeared on her face, more out of a sense of victory than anything else. out of the entire questioning, this had been the query jill was completely sure was bound to come. this was all about and for larissa, wasn’t it ?

  “ oh, not as well as i wish i did. ” lie. “ we were friends - i mean, she’d come along when leo and i went out, and we slept in the same room when i was invited to spend the night over at their house. i was her calculus tutor for two months as well. ” it was a good thing she knew how to hold her dear heart still. at the same time, she felt a tinge of betrayal. ‘ really, jill ? ’ she could feel the other whispering into her ear, her cheek ruffling a tuft of her hair. ‘ was that all i was to you ? ’ no. no, but jill couldn’t bring herself to give that away. her emotions were hers and hers only, and not a present she was willing to gift to whichever incompetent detective was requested to question her. she’d keep the sleepovers to herself, those nights jill would dream it’d been larissa who had approached her for prom. she’d refrain from talking about the trips to the beach, where she’d pretend to slip only to have her arms wrapped around her, or the palm of her hand against her own;about all those times she asked larissa whether she had her eyes on someone, only to have the other respond with a fit of laughter and a shake of the head; about all the times she asked leo ‘ won’t larissa come with us? ’ no, in the officer’s eyes, she and leo were still the town’s charming couple. she knew better than to disclose this, just in case it were to reach leo and his family in one way or another. in the detective’s eyes, larissa and jill were just close acquaintances, friends, or student and tutor -- no more, no less. “ she was struggling with some topics at that point. i’d been putting up tutoring advertisements in the school newspaper way before that, and it just so happened that she responded to one of them. i didn’t mind, certainly; i’m always glad to help. so we’d meet at jack’s diner twice every week, with books and notes and all. one day, she just approached me in the hall and said she didn’t need to attend the sessions anymore. ”

   “ WAS THERE ANYTHING SUSPICIOUS ABOUT HER, EITHER DURING THESE TUTORING SESSIONS OR AFTER? DID LARISSA SEEM TO BE ACTING DIFFERENTLY OR STRANGELY WHEN SHE REQUESTED TO CALL THEM OFF? ”

“ ---- not really. i mean, i never dared ask why. it did cross my mind that perhaps she’d found another tutor, or that she’d finally understood the material. when we met, she was always engaged and inquisitive. ” lie. ‘ larissa, are you okay? is there something wrong? ’ jill had asked larissa on their very last session. her stare was lost, fixed on something outside the window. all larissa did was blush and shake her head, right before apologizing and asking to finish up earlier than usual. she didn’t even say a proper goodbye when she left the diner. perhaps, if she could bring herself to say nothing was ever wrong in the garden of eden she’d grown, then maybe she could bring herself to believe it too. “ the last time we met to study, she just asked to leave a little early. said she’d forgotten some books at school or something. ”

   “ DID YOU SENSE ANY ISSUES IN THE FAMILY? ”

“ ---- never. everyone was always calm and happy. they never once had an argument while i was around. ”

“ HAVE YOU EVER SEEN LEO BECOME VIOLENT WITH ANYONE? WE UNDERSTAND HE’S GOT QUITE THE REPUTATION AROUND TOWN - IS THIS REPUTATION AN ACCURATE ONE? ”

and just like that, her armor comes loose. the quartz-like strength and fierce stubbornness with which she’d carried herself up until now quiver, afraid. she should’ve expected there would be curveballs galore, and yet, she’s taken by surprise.

   “ ---- violent ? ” the question is spat back at him, disbelief burning through the inquiry. the detective nods, unimpressed. perhaps, the cracks to her have started to show. leo didn’t kill larissa -- she’ll cling onto to that thought for dear life. “ he’s never been violent or aggressive toward anyone. ” she remembers the occasions during which he shied away from her touch. how could he, then, be capable of causing injury or harm to anyone ? “ listen, i’ve heard everything that has been said about him, but it’s all bullshit. ” the words left a strange aftertaste; just after larissa’s funeral, he’d pulled out a cigarette pack loaded with pre-rolled joints. no matter how holy the town was made out to be, there were no saints treading its ground. however, if there was someone who didn’t deserve to be branded for it, it was leo. “ leo kearney is the kindest person i’ve ever met -- ”  her own mind commanded her to stop. stop now. hold your filthy tongue before you say something you’ll regret. “ --  whoever says that leo’s just bad news is just trying to hide their own secrets. don’t believe me ? take a look. one of them has larissa’s blood on their hands. ” 

   too late. the man has already taken it upon himself to scribble down a lengthy note. every couple of seconds, he lifts his gaze and places it on her, as if he couldn’t believe such comments could leave the girl. 

  “ THOSE ARE STRONG ACCUSATIONS, MS. PACKARD. LET’S RETURN TO THE QUESTION OF LARISSA KEARNEY, SHALL WE?  WHEN DID YOU LAST SEE HER? WHAT HAPPENED? ”

“ ---- she called my house phone from a payphone in maine street. i’d just gotten back from the tucker’s place. larissa asked if it’d be possible for me to drive her to the ring -- well, nolan’s gym’s the more accurate name. i picked her up by the phone booth and drove her over. we talked about the weather and leo, but she was mostly silent. ”

   “ SO, DID SHE SEEM UPSET ABOUT SOMETHING, OR DID SHE SEEM AFRAID? I MUST INSIST - WAS THERE ANYTHING OFF ABOUT HER BEHAVIOUR AT ALL ? ”

“ ---- there was just one thing.... ” jill furrowed, eyes lightly squinted before she spoke. “ she fidgeted a bit with the seat belt like she was feeling restless. i figured she was just really looking forward to meeting with naomi. other than that, nothing seemed off. ”

  “  WE APPRECIATE IT YOUR HONESTY. JUST BEFORE YOU LEAVE, WHERE WERE YOU BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 5 A.M. AND 6 A.M. ON JULY THE 31ST OF 1989? IS THERE ANYONE WHO CAN CONFIRM YOUR WHEREABOUTS? ”

ANDERSON: You were Laris̴s̶á K͏ea̧rne̡y’s self-defense instructor for six years, is that right?

NAOMI: That’s right.

ANDERSON: How well do you believe she learned your material? Do you see any reason she was unable to fend off whoever hurt her?

NAOMI: She was one of my best students. Lar͠is҉s̸a has changed a lot since we first started training, but she rarely ever missed a class and she’s knocked me on my ass more times than I can count. I don’t doubt she could defend herself if she had to. But I… I don’t think this was about fighting.

ANDERSON: What do you mean?

NAOMI: Well, you know, she got older. She… stopped smiling. Started catching rides home with strange people more than with her brother. Like she was—coming unraveled at the edges.

ANDERSON: So, when was the last time you saw her?

NAOMI: It was right after class. She was kind of off, I guess. Look, sparring her—the girl punched like she was on fire. And she was. There was something driving her to punch harder, strike faster. I don’t know what it was, but now I wish I did.

ANDERSON: Maybe she was intending to fight someone.

NAOMI: I don’t think so. She was always intense like that, since she was a kid. Like she had something to prove. I liked it because it was a challenge, but the older she got, the more she demanded. That night, though, all the spirit had gone out of her. She was sloppy. She didn’t care. I tried not to take it personally—everyone has their off days.

ANDERSON: Who picked her up from class that night?

NAOMI: I don’t know. Her brother had been picking her up a lot more recently, and I was excited because I thought maybe they were spending more time together. But I didn’t see anyone there when she left. You can always tell because if there is, the headlights shine through the windows.

Anderson shifts in his seat, writes something down in his NOTEPAD.

ANDERSON: Did you try to give her a ride home?

NAOMI: Of course I did. But L̍̓a̢r̍̄̀ͨ̐i͗̎͑ͯ́s͏sͯ̊̋̐ͪ̀a͂͢ didn’t do that—she didn’t take favors from people, even when she needed them.

ANDERSON: I get what you mean. So, you mentioned she was “off” in class. How so?

Naomi is quiet. Her eyes flick to the CORNER of the room for but a moment.

NAOMI: ... I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Her eyes were… glazed over, like her body was in the ring but her brain was somewhere else. And she was—high. I don’t know on what. But she always fought differently when she was high.

ANDERSON: High? Was that a regular thing for her?

NAOMI: No, it had only happened a few times, and only recently. I don’t think it was a new habit though... maybe she was just getting sloppy.

ANDERSON: That night, do you think she feared for her life?

Naomi’s back goes rigid. She looks a little more toward the CAMERA, at the corner of the room, but quickly looks back at Anderson.

NAOMI: Well… uh…

ANDERSON: Ms. Wilder?

NAOMI: Um, could I get some water? My throat is really dry.

Anderson squints at her.

ANDERSON: Alright. I’ll be right back.

As soon as Anderson’s back is turned, Naomi’s attention snaps back to the corner. Her hands tighten around the edges of her chair, white-knuckled. Her gaze seems to follow something above eye-level partway across the room, ending at the Detective’s chair.

Det. Anderson enters, holding a WATER BOTTLE.

ANDERSON: Here you go.

Naomi springs up and takes the bottle.

NAOMI: (breathlessly) Oh—thanks.

She sits, cracks open the cap and downs half the bottle in one go. Her eyes remain fixed on the same spot as before.

ANDERSON: Are you alright?

NAOMI: Yes, just… talking about that night, I see now that there were so many signs. I could have done something.

ANDERSON: Did you try to talk to her about those... signs?

NAOMI: (still visibly shaken) Look, L̢̖͍̾̓̅͊̚ͅͅa̷̬͉͕ͩͯ̆̉̀ͣ͛ṙ̷ḭ̦̙̣ͬ̓ͯ͑ͫ̌͌s͆͏̹̪̝s̆a̝̤̲̞̭̻̍͠ always made it clear that her business was her business. When she was younger, she was a lot more open about things. She would actually stay after class and we’d chat for a bit, and she seemed to really enjoy our conversations. But somewhere along the way she closed up, I guess; she stopped wanting to share anything. I did try, but she had this way of getting retribution when you’d wronged her. Like, say I asked her about something and she got upset, the next week she’d bruise my shin from a kick that was a little low. Maybe it wasn’t totally on purpose, but you could feel that petulant energy, you know?

Naomi takes another drink of water. Her back has begun to relax.

NAOMI: I guess I was worried that if I pushed too hard, she would stop coming to class.

ANDERSON: So you didn’t approach her about whatever was going on because you were worried about losing a student?

NAOMI: No. No, it’s—it’s not about the class at all. It’s about... empowering somebody. Giving them the tools they need to feel safe and confident in their daily life. I didn’t want her to lose that.

Anderson is quiet. After a moment, he jots something in his notes.

ANDERSON: Alright, we’re almost done here. I appreciate your cooperation in all this.

NAOMI: Well, thanks for doing what you’re doing. I want to find out what happened to her too. We all do.

ANDERSON: So Ms. Wilder, where were you between the hours of 5 A.M. and 6 A.M. on July the 31st of 1989?

NAOMI: I was at the gym. I was too tired to go home after Ḷ̢̢̡͇͙̘̥ͦ͋ͣ̋͊ͥ͋̍̌ͧͮͨ̽͘͜ͅä̶͉̜̭͔̤̝́͗̔͆͊̌͑̀ͅr̢̺̘̦̦̲̮̭̝̮̠̹̗̻̻͍̩̆ͭͫ͒ͣͥͫ̉͘i̧̞͙̲̰̭̱̐ͤ͐͋̎̎͊̂́ͬͪ́͘s̵̨̡̜̫̻̹͓̹͚̫̜̺̥͉̬̎͊͑̽́͠s̢͇͚̣̺̱͓̬̻̮͚͇̝̳̲̖̦ͥ̆̏ͥ̓͋͛͊͌̃̀̍̂͛ͨ͘͜a̶̡͚̝̣̲͇̽ͥ̎́͊̀͜ ’s lesson, so I crashed on the bed in the spare room. Couldn’t sleep, though, so I got up and started doing chores around the gym.

ANDERSON: I see. Is there anyone who can confirm your whereabouts?

NAOMI: I was alone, but the windows at the gym are pretty big, so anyone who was driving by around that time would have seen me in there. Also, I fixed the chest press machine and wrote it in my logbook. I’m sure several of my regulars could confirm that.

ANDERSON: Alright.

He stands and offers a hand. Naomi stands up and shakes it firmly.

ANDERSON: Thanks for your cooperation, Ms. Wilder. We’ll be in touch.

He walks over and holds the DOOR for Naomi to exit. As she does, though, her gaze follows the Detective’s chair. She gives it one last glance as the door closes.