Chapter 3

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Chapter 3


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I had been waiting in this dark room for about ten minutes now and I was getting restless. I wanted to know what they wanted from me. I wasn't really worried, just curious.


But my foster parents seemed pretty worried. They were really tense on the drive over to the police station. We had to drive all the way back to Houston, where I used to live, to meet with this detective. That's why I was pretty much assuming that this was about my parents, but I guess you never know.


But anyway, they just seemed really uncomfortable with this. Maybe they just didn't like police? Who knows.


Interrupting my thoughts, the knob on the door that I had been watching this whole time turned and the door opened to reveal who I hoped was the detective.


"Hello, sorry for the wait. I'm Detective Vasquez," he said as he reached across the table and shook my hand.


"No problem," I said with a forced smile. "So how can I help you?"


He chuckled, but his face quickly turned grim.


"Well, as you might know, I'm the detective in charge of the investigation of your parents' death." I let that sink in as he kept talking. "Since it was a hit-and-run and we still haven't caught who did it, we need some more information."


"Ok..." I said slowly. I didn't really know what I could possibly tell him that he didn't already know.


"Did you notice anything suspicious going on with your parents in the time before the crash?"


"No."


"Have they done anything out of the ordinary in the past few months?"


"No."


"Any big trips?"


"No.. Well they went to Vegas for their anniversary a couple months ago."


"Ok," he said as he wrote down what I was saying. "Did anything... weird happen in Vegas?"


I thought about it. "Not that I know of. They didn't really tell me much about their trip, except to tell me that they bought me a t-shirt."


I was tearing up now, just thinking about my parents. I missed them so much. The detective noticed my tears and passed the tissue box that was on the table to me


"So they didn't say anything about their trip?" he pressed.


"No, why do you keep asking?" He was making me upset because it seemed like he was trying to turn a good memory of my parents into a bad one.


"Well," he hesitated. He seemed unsure if he wanted to continue. "We have the tape of the crash and..."


"And what?"


"Well it seems as if your parents car was targeted."


"What?" I couldn't believe what he was saying.


"A car was caught following their car for a few miles and suddenly it sped up and rear-ended your parents car right into a tree."


I was stunned. Beyond speechless. I didn't know what to say. I'm sure my face looked ridiculous right now, but I didn't care.


What he just described seemed more like a scene from "Fast & Furious", not some car crash that killed my parents.


"Can I see the tape?" I suddenly asked.


"I don't know if it would be good for you. It's a bit.. graphic."


"I want to see the tape," I don't know why, but something was telling me I needed to see that tape.


The detective let out a sigh and got up, "Fine, I'll be right back."


A couple minutes later Detective Vasquez came back with nothing but an envelope in his hand.


"Ok, so my supervisor would not let me show you the tape, but he gave me a snapshot of the driver of the vehicle that crashed into your parents' car."


"What good is that?"


"He wants you to look at it and see if you recognize the guy."


Recognize the guy? Why on earth would I recognize the guy?


But I looked at the picture anyway.


I almost screamed. The chills came back.


Why?


Because I had seen this guy before.


It was the same guy I saw at the park yesterday.


**********


During the car ride back from the police station, I tried to keep as calm as possible. It was hard, though.


I told Detective Vasquez that I had, in fact, seen that man before. I told him where and what kind of car he was driving, but I couldn't tell him more than that, because that's all knew.


When we got back to the house, I quietly excused myself and went up to my room.


The minute I got in there and shut the door, I lost it. I was freaking out. I began pacing around the room trying to think clearly. So many questions were flying around in my head.


Who is that man?

Am I being stalked?

Why were my parents targeted?

Did they actually do something wrong?


I didn't have answers to any of these questions. I needed to talk to someone.
But who? Not my foster parents, that's for sure. I still don't trust them. I don't know why, I just don't.


I know. Austin. I can trust him.


I went to his door and knocked. He answered right away this time.


"Hey Sophie, what's up?"


"Can I talk to you?" I whispered.


"Sure.. come on in," he responded, a little confused, probably as to why I was whispering. "What's wrong?"


"So you remember what I was talking about when we were coming back from the park yesterday?"


"About that guy in the car?"


"Yeah."


"What about him?"


My voice choked, but I managed to get a whisper out, "He killed my parents."



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