PETERSON RESIDENCE - AFTERNOON, FOUR DAYS LATER

KITCHEN

LINDSAY

I brush the tears off my cheeks and try to do the list of everything that was in my studio, now burned to the ground by that maniac. I have nothing to show for my years of hard graft. I look at my phone when it rings, then send it to voicemail. I can't deal with anything but this now. I sigh as I think of all the contacts that I had on my phone, which I dropped in my haste to get out of the building. It rings again. This time, I look at the number, there is no ID. Most likely one of those sales calls, I think to myself as nobody has this number, well apart from fire department and the police. Then I have a thought: of course, James’s old phone! We shared some contacts!

I run to the spare bedroom and pull out the box of his personal effects that they gave me. These are the only things I have left of him. After a decent mourning period, I dispensed with everything of his. I grimace when I spot some dried blood on the side and head to the bathroom to clean it.

“Never did keep the bloody thing fully charged!” I grumble, and go to find the spare charger. “I must not speak ill of the dead. After all, he was hardly in a position to plug it in.”

I head back to the kitchen to go back to my inventory, feeling more settled that I at least have some contacts back. I check my messages in the meantime, and it was like I thought; the detective on my case, telling me absolutely nothing new!

THE LOFT - TEN MINUTES LATER

KITCHEN

JUSTIN

“I can't concentrate when you are doing that.” I protest weakly as Brian grinds his still denim clad hips into my boxer clad ass, whilst I am trying to mix a cocktail.

“That is the point of this game. You just need to read then pour without spilling a drop.” He husks in my ear before kissing down my neck. “Or you pay the forfeit.” He snickers. “Are you cold? You must be since you aren't wearing too much right now.”

“You cheated.” I pause in my pouring to steady my hand.

“Didn't.” He murmurs, whirling his tongue at the top of my spine.

“Brian…” I gulp as he sucks on my now suddenly sensitive skin. “...fuck the game…” I turn to face him. “...take me to bed.”

DEBS AND VIC’S HOUSE - HALF AN HOUR LATER

KITCHEN

RODNEY

Vic and I are trying not to shake Debs as she, once more, puts down her phone.

“Now what is the issue?” Vic sighs.

“He was…”

“Was being the past participle.” I interrupt and reach for my phone. “Let me resolve this for you.” They both look puzzled. I smile as I dial a number. “Hey, Carl, it's Rodney…” I get up and move away from the grabbing hands of Debs with a grin. “Debs wants to ask you out, but thinks you are still mad at her. You’re not are you? Didn't think so. Look, can we double date? Emerald & Pearl would be perfect, Thursday at six, done.”

“Are you going to pick my outfit too?!” She grouses, but there is a telling blush and the beginnings of a smile.

“But of course.” Vic laughs. “Come on, let's go do it now. In fact, let's go shopping instead!”

“I hate you both!” Debs bitches as she stalks out before she comes back in. “Are we doing this or not? I haven't got all day!”

“Oh she likes, she likes a lot!” Vic chortles. “She hasn't bought a new outfit since the 80s!”

“Vic!” Debs wails. “I bought a new dressing gown two years ago!”

“Call Kiki…” I order Vic. “...ask her to meet us, your sister needs a wardrobe overhaul!”

ETHAN'S APARTMENT- LATE NIGHT

BEDROOM

ETHAN

I fumble for the light as I hear the my phone vibrating, but when I look at it, it's not ringing, but something is. I get out of bed and try to locate the noise, as I near the chest of drawers it gets louder. I pull out the bottom drawer and frown, it is my old phone and there is a series of missed calls. I look at the time then the screen.

“What the hell can someone want at this time of night?” I bitch tiredly then drop it when it rings again. It  ends up under the drawers and by the time I have got it out they have hung up, but they have left a message at least. I wait for it to save then hit play.

“Hi, um you don't know me, my name is Lindsay Peterson, I was married to Professor James Dixon. I noticed that he called you, well, you called each other several times. The last message from you was that you would call him back, but I am not sure if you did. I just wanted to make you aware that sadly James passed away in an automobile accident a few weeks back. Please can you call me back on…”

Her words fade away as I start to panic. I pace the room for a few long minutes until my heart rate calms then I smile. In the highly unlikely event of her recognizing my voice, I have the perfect patsy in one Michael Charles Novotny.

MERCY’S HOUSE - NEXT DAY

LOUNGE

RAE

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” I hold the scissors to my chest.

“Yes, I am sure.” Rajan holds out one of his locs. “It has to be done for this to work.”

“But I love your hair!” I protest, still clasping the scissors tightly. “Why cut it?! It stands to reason that it would've grown in the interim.”

“Mom, the dead can't grow hair.” Marguerite comes back in and takes the scissors off of me. “In order for this to work, whoever the fucker is has to believe that Dad is Uncle Nathaniel.”

I know they are right and the plan is genius. The film industry is known for its eccentricity, so, whoever is it, will find it plausible that Natty faked his death to get out of the limelight. I still have my doubts that it is this Michael person. Yes, he was a major pest in their teens from what I heard, and there is the call he made, but this, this is beyond cruel. Especially as we could've lost Marguerite too, after she had just gotten the all clear.

“Mom!”

“Okay, cut it, but I get to keep them!”

PETERSON RESIDENCE - AFTERNOON

LOUNGE

LINDSAY

I replay the recording again, I don't recognize the voice, but the words are clear, I saw you stab Brian Kinney.