“Blunt force trauma.” The detective stated to colleague. He was dressed in a cheap button up white shirt and gray trousers. His badge and gun sat on his hip that he had cocked out as he spoke, looking around the room.
Imagine my surprise when I walked in the door, finding my girlfriend lying in a pool of blood, naked and pale, lying lifeless in our kitchen. Her normally vibrant skin was dull, her bright green eyes glassed over as she stared up at the ceiling. The only thing on her body was a half strung set of pale pink pearls. There were a few stray pearls in her blood, coated in the gooey liquid as they lost their way.
I rushed to her, kneeling down – but careful not to touch anything. I’d seen enough crime t.v. to know that the last thing I wanted was to make myself look guilty. I wanted desperately to reach out and grab her, to take her in my arms and tell her I loved her. It will all be all right.
She didn’t know I was on my way to break up with her, she didn’t know I was finally fed up with the verbal abuse she bestowed upon me daily.
She didn’t know I was finished.
I didn’t know she was finished, in a literal way.
I hadn’t spoken to her in hours, I had no idea what had happened.
“Sir, I’ll need to ask you some questions…” I heard the delicate voice of a female detective approach me. She had long dark hair that was pulled up in a neat pony tail; she wore a green satin button up top and a pair of tight black trousers. She was much more attractive than her partner, but this was no time to appreciate beauty. She sat on the ottoman in front of me, her fair skin glowing in the dim lighting. I had gone into the dining room; I couldn’t be around the crime scene they said.
“You were her boyfriend, correct?” She asked, pulling out a pad and beginning to scribble.
I nodded.
“When did you see her last?” She asked, her words were perfectly articulated and her tone was soft, yet strong.
I blinked. When did I see her last?
“This morning I guess, before I left to go to the studio. She told me she had a client to meet with around five and wasn’t sure when she’d be home.”
The detective, whose name I had no learned yet, wrote diligently. “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t get your name?” I interjected, wanting to know just who I was speaking to.
“Sorry, I’m detective Kat Ross, I should have introduced myself. Forgive me.” She said with a faint smile, clearly knowing that this was not the time for grins.
I nodded.
“So you say, she had a client? Do you know who it was? Where they were meeting? Did she possibly have a planner, or maybe a reminder on her phone?” She said it all slowly, giving me prompts perhaps.
I shook my head no, “Shelby was very quiet about her job. I never knew much, except for when I was the subject.” I answered honestly, I had no clue what she was doing. If I were being completely candid, I’d tell them I didn’t care. I was leaving her.
“Okay, well I’m sure that we’ll find something on her phone. I know how hard this is, Mr. Styles. It is of utmost importance that if you find anything out, you report it immediately.” She said as she closed her tablet, maybe she knew I was useless. Maybe she thought she’d found out enough from me.
I felt numb.
My phone dinged loudly as she was walking away and I pulled it out, “Zayn” flashed across the screen. I slid my finger across the bottom of the screen and placed the phone to my ear.
“Hello” I say glumly.
“Mate, I saw the news. What is going on over there?” Zayn’s voice was louder than I was expecting, he sounded much more frantic than I did.
“It’s Shelby, she was murdered.”
“What? You’re serious?”
“Yes. She’s dead. I have to go.”
“Harry, where are you going to go? Liam and I are in Los Angeles, come to the hotel.”
“I don’t know, I want to be alone.”
“No, you don’t need to be alone. Come here, as soon as you can. I’ll send a driver.”
“I—“
“No, you’re coming.”
Zayn hung up, I knew he’d send a car for me. I knew that it was best I be with loved ones. I knew this was hopeless and I was going to be no help to the detective, just get in their way.
I stood and let out a loud sigh, turning on my heel and walking into the living room, I could see yellow tape in the kitchen. They’d taken her body an hour ago, there was nothing left but loose pearls and blood.
No murder weapon.
“Kat,” I called as I approached the detective, I didn’t want to call her a Miss or a Mrs. Because I didn’t know which one to use, I didn’t really care either.
She turned and looked at me with a peculiar arch of the brow. “Yes?”
“I’m going to head out, go to a friends for the night. I can’t be here…I can’t…” My voice withered off.
“Go ahead, here…” She reached into her pocket, pulling out a card that had her name, her cell phone, the office number, and other lines I could call for help. “Call if you think of anything, we’ll be in touch with you. I’m very sorry for your loss Mr. Styles.”
I nod and turn once again, grabbing my keys, my wallet, and my coat. I walk outside, breathing in the night air. I hadn’t realized just how stuffy it was in there, in the crime scene.
I saw the car pulling up. I couldn’t wait to get away.
I had really shitty timing.

Notes

https://open.spotify.com/user/1252983463/playlist/3u4umBixsA9QDTmjBTZzVR
This is the list I'm using while I write.
It has a bunch of good songs on it, so if you're interested -- just browse around. I'm using it when I write most of my stories.

Thanks for the wonderful feed back, I'm very very excited to write this story. It'll be the first one i have that is not centered around romance and I hope it'll be a breath of fresh air.

Feel free to interact, I'm not revealing who killed Shelby until the final chapter.
Enjoy!!