Unforgiven Sins                            7
   

   
�What  is  this  about  Detective?�   I  asked  anxiously.
     �I  would  really prefer to discuss that with  you  when you arrive, Miss DuPont. How long will it take you to get here?�
     �I�ll  be  there  as soon as I shower and change,�  I  told him.
     �Good.� The line went dead.
     I leaned down,  picked up the phone from off the floor and replaced the receiver in it�s cradle. I sat on the side of my  bed  in a kind of stupor for some time  before  finally dragging myself out of it, shoving the phone back onto the nightstand and rushing into the bathroom.   I think it must have been the quickest shower I had ever taken.  Before  I knew  it,  I was dressed with car keys and wallet  in  hand rushing out the front door of my apartment.
     I  arrived  at  the  precinct twenty  five  minutes  later, parked my car in the parking  facility and hurried into the building.  I asked  at the front desk where  I  could  locate the  detective  who had called  and immediately  took  the  stairs  to  the first  floor.   As  I  got  to  the  top  of  the stairs, a man in his late forties approached me. The cop at the  desk must have alerted him to my presence.  He  was about  six feet tall,  slim build,  with  dark brown,  shortly cropped  hair,  graying at the temples.   He was wearing a gray  pair  of  pants,   light  blue  shirt  and  dark  gray  tie loosened at the neck.   As he got closer extended his hand.
Pages 13-18
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M.A.Anderson                            8


   �Miss DuPont,� he greeted me with a serious expression on  his  face.  We  shook  hands.  �Would  you  follow  me please.�
     I  moved  up  alongside  him.  �What�s   this  all   about, Detective?�
     �I�ll  discuss  that  with you when we�re in my office.� He kept his gaze straight ahead.
     We moved to the far end of the workroom.   His office was  the  last  one on the right.   He moved  ahead  of  me, opened  the door and motioned for me to go in.   I stepped inside  and  turned toward him.  As he closed the door and moved   to   his   desk,   my   eyes   followed   his   every movement.
     �What�s going on?� I asked.
     �Please, Miss DuPont, take a seat.� He gestured toward the  single chair opposite his desk. �Would you like  some coffee before we begin?� He moved around his desk and waited for me to sit down before he did the same..
     �No. No thank you, I�m fine. I just want to know what this is all about.�
     He  leaned back in his chair.  �I  have  some  bad  news, Miss  DuPont.�  He  looked  at  me in such a  way  that  a sickening wave of nausea turned my stomach over.
     I took a deep breath.  �What is it?� I asked,  feeling  the color drain from my face.
    �There's  no  easy  way  to  say  this. � He  paused  and
   
                            Unforgiven Sins                            9
    

frowned  at  me,   then  his   expression softened and he got to his feet and moved around to where I was sitting.
     �Miss  DuPont...may  I  call  you  Amanda?�  he asked sitting on the corner of his desk close to me.
     �All right,� I replied dubiously.
     �It�s your parents...they�ve been killed in an accident.�
     I sprang to my feet. �No!�  I shook my head vigorously.  �That�s not possible.�
     �If  it�s  any  consolation,  they  wouldn�t  have known what happened.� He stood up.
     I glared at him. �What did happen,� I asked tightly.
     �You really don�t need to know the details....�
     �Yes, I do!�
     �Why don�t you sit down and we can...�
     �Because  I  don�t  want  to  sit down.  I want to know exactly what happened to them!�
     The   detective  drew  a   deep  breath  in  through   his nostrils and began explaining. �It appears that your parents were in the kitchen preparing breakfast together.  When  your mother struck a  match to light the gas jet  on the stove there was an explosion.  Do  I really need  to go  into specifics  here;  the  Medical  Examiner  said  their  deaths would�ve been instantaneous.�
    I couldn't believe it. Tears welled in my eyes. I sat down
in a daze, staring into nothingness. Why?  

                               M.A.Anderson                          10
    

    �Would  you  like a  drink?  I have  some  scotch  in  my desk drawer,� the detective offered.
    I shook my head. �No, thanks,�  I answered in a whisper.
    �I�m sorry to have to be the one to give you this kind of news,   but it appears that you  don�t  have any siblings or other family members we could get in touch with.�
    �I have an aunt,�  I  told  him looking  down at my hands clasped in my lap.
    �You do? Would you like me to contact her for you?�
    �No...we don�t...we don�t talk much.�
    �What about a boyfriend?�
    �I don�t have a boyfriend,� I replied.
    The detective stood up. �There are some personal effects that  were sent up from the Miami department...I�ll go and get  them  for  you.�  He  moved  across  to  the  door  then turned back and looked at me.
    �Are you sure you don�t need that drink?�
    I nodded. �I�m sure.�
   After several minutes,   the detective returned carrying a small, plain cardboard box under his arm.   He placed it on the  desk  in front of me,   then moved to his seat  and  sat down. I didn�t say a word for quite a while, I just sat there staring at the box. Something jolted me back into reality, as

I suddenly realized that had the explosion been considered
an accident,  the uniformed police would have come to my

                     Unforgiven Sins                           11


apartment to  inform me of my parent�s deaths.   So,  why was this detective involved?   I  looked over the top of the box, my eyes locking on to his.
   �Detective Donohue?�
   �Yes, Miss DuPont?�
   �If   the   explosion   was   an   accident,  why   are  you involved?�
   �I was hoping you wouldn�t figure that out right now.�
   �Why? What really happened?�
   �I think it would be better  left unanswered until we have something solid to follow up.�
   �Detective, I have a right to know!�
   �When we have something tangible to go on,  then I�ll fill you in. Until then...�
   �I want to know what you know, Detective, and I�m not leaving here until you tell me!�
   �Hasn�t  this ordeal  been distressing enough for you?   I think it  would be best if you wait until you�re in  a better frame of mind before we discuss this any further.�
   I  stood  up.   �I want you to tell me  what  it  is  you�ve discovered...please!�
   The detective sighed.   �All right...at first it was believed that  the  explosion  had  been an accident,  but  on  further
investigation it appears that it may not have been after all.�
   �What  exactly  do  you mean?� I felt my knees  turn  to
                        M.A.Anderson                           12


rubber. I sat down again.
   �Well,   it  appears   that  the   gas  line   may  have  been tampered with.�
   �You mean it was set up to kill my parents?�
   �We�ll  know  more after the scene has  been  thoroughly checked.�
   �But you think it was deliberate...right?�
   �It certainly looks that way. Do you have any idea why someone would want to do this?�   He got  up  and moved around to where I was sitting.
    I looked up at him in disbelief. �No! Why would I? My parents were well liked and well respected,   Detective.   I have absolutely no idea who would want them dead.�
   �What about your father�s  line of work?   Could he have stumbled onto something that...�
   �My father was a research scientist. Not a government agent.�
   �What was he researching, Miss DuPont?�
   �I...I don�t know. He never discussed his research.�
   �He must�ve mentioned  something...I�m  sure he trusted you and your mother.�
   �He took  his job and  his responsibilities very seriously, Detective...he would never betray the  confidentiality of his research.�
    The detective picked up a manila folder off his desk and
opened it. 
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