Aftermath

"Well... it shouldn't be that hard to replace," Moe said finally. They had stared at the window for over fifteen minutes, trying to process what had happened. The culprit was long gone; they knew that for certain. All that remained now was a hole through their window, a mess in their kitchen, and a thousand unanswered questions.

After rushing outside, Jane had called the police, and they had been waiting quite some time for Office Copperfield to arrive. As the situation was non-emergent, the officer had apparently decided to take his time. By the time the police officer had gotten there, the twins were asleep and Izzy had woken up for her nightly feeding.

"Mr. Pesce?"

"Yes, that's me." Moe turned away from the broken windowpane and addressed the officer. Officer Copperfield was one of the few police officers in town, and while Moe had fortunately never had any reason to cross paths with the police, Twinbrook was the kind of town where everybody knew everybody else by reputation, if not by face. From what he'd heard, Bill Copperfield was the best and worst kind of cop- totally dedicated to his work, gruff, and never in a good mood.

"Why don't you go ahead and tell me what happened, Mr. and Mrs. Pesce?"

Jane and Moe exchanged a wary look. Bill's tone indicated that he was none too pleased at being bothered over something he obviously considered a minor incident. After all, Twinbrook was rife with the kind of rebellious teenagers who did this sort of thing all the time. A broken window hardly qualified as an emergency.

Being threat, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely. 

 "Well..." Jane began to recount the evening's events, including Moe's ill-advised car purchase and his birthday party. She was the kind of person who babbled incessantly when she was nervous. As the officer's eyes began to glaze over, Moe flashed him an apologetic look and began telling a much more concise version of the incident, much to his relief. 

"So as you can see, the rock and note are still there. We haven't touched anything, just in case. We watch 'Sim and Order,'" Moe explained with a faint note of pride. 

Officer Copperfield was unimpressed. 

"Okay, well, there's not much we can do right now. We'll send the notes and some fingerprints off to the lab and keep an eye out, but I've got to tell ya... I doubt we'll learn much of anything," Bill shrugged. "This kind of situation, it's usually a prank of some kind."

"But what about the note? Someone clearly wanted to send a message," Moe insisted. 

Bill shrugged again. "We'll do our best, sir." 

Moe somehow doubted it. 

---

Moe barged through Chase's front door, waiting until Ethan disappeared into the backyard before starting to yell. When Jane had mentioned that Ethan and Lucy had a playdate, he'd immediately volunteered to take him- for one very specific reason.

"Chase, get out here. We need to talk!"

"What the hell, Pesce!" Chase glared at him as he appeared around the corner. "I thought you were just supposed to drop Ethan off! Is this how you're doing things now, using your kid to do your dirty business?"

"Like you can talk! You're the one using your daughter to worm your way back into our lives," Moe retorted. "But that's not why I'm here."

"Oh yeah? Well, why are you here?" Chase was fairly seething by this point.

"I came to find out whether or not you broke our window! And for that matter, whether or not you're a murderer." Moe replied harshly. "And I'm warning you now, don't bother lying. I just want a straight answer for once."

"Why the hell does it matter what I say, then?" Chase demanded. "You're not going to believe me if I say I didn't do it, so I might as well just tell you what you want to hear."

"So you admit it, then?" Moe eyed him suspiciously.

"No, I actually don't know what the hell you're accusing me of. I'm just saying... it's not like you're impartial. You didn't come here to believe that I'm innocent. I could tell you fifty ways til Sunday that I didn't break your window or kill her, and you'd still leave here thinking I'm a monster."  

"Well, do you blame me?" Moe replied. "I mean, you did hit my wife- you clearly don't mind violence." 

"Okay, that's it. Get the hell out of my house!" Chase demanded, pointing towards the door. "You can't just waltz in here and accuse me of vandalism and murder. And take your damn kid with you! I don't need him hanging around causing trouble." 

Neither of them happened to notice the two children poking their heads out of the next room, a fact that Ethan and Lucy were using to full advantage. At this latest statement, Ethan's eyes widened and he backed up, trying to become as invisible as possible. 

Moe turned to leave, but hesitated. "So you really didn't throw that rock?" 

Chase glared and shook his head. "I was here with Lucy all night. Not that you'd believe her either," he added bitterly. "Just go."

Moe opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he realized he had absolutely no idea how to respond. "Ethan!" he yelled. "Come on, we're leaving." As he turned to leave, he couldn't help but reflect on how badly this venture had turned out. Anger, as it turned out, was not always the best motivator. 

---

That afternoon found Jane scrubbing the kitchen from floor to ceiling. While they'd picked up the glass the night before, there was still dirt from the broken vase, and no matter how much Jane scrubbed she didn't feel like it was clean enough. She'd been at it for almost an hour when Moe made his way into the kitchen to feed Izzy.

They hadn't spoken about the incident since the previous night, and Jane wasn't quite sure what to say. Moe seemed rather upset, and she was a bit afraid to delve into this particular can of worms.

"Morning!" she greeted him cheerfully, setting the mop aside and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "I was going to make some coffee, but I couldn't find the whatchamacallit... coffee filters. I think we're out." Her voice trailed off as she stared at the ground uncomfortably.

"Right." Moe's voice was flat and emotionless, as if he were extremely tired- or extremely angry. She couldn't tell which yet, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out. His next words, however, clarified the matter.

"So you're going to stop with this ridiculous murder stuff now, right?" Moe demanded without preamble. Jane was taken aback by his abrupt change of conversation, even if their conversation hadn't exactly been particularly loquacious to begin with. Still, given a choice between him bottling things up or bringing it out into the open, she'd choose the latter. Perhaps it was better to get things straightened out now.

"Well, I... hadn't thought about it yet," she replied defensively. "I'm not sure somebody throwing a rock through the window is really a reason to give up. If anything, it means I'm on to something! I can't give up now. Besides, it's only a rock."

"Only a rock?" Moe repeated in an unbelieving tone. "Jane, you're putting our family in danger! The next time it might be something worse, and I for one don't want to wait around for the culprit to start getting creative!"

"But Moe-"

"I don't want to hear it," he cut her off. "I'm not going to stand here and listen to you justify your reckless behavior. It was fine while it was just a harmless interest, but now that it's turned into this..."

Jane sighed. "I'm sorry, I really am... it's just that I know I'm on to something. How am I supposed to just forget about it when that poor girl was murdered? And this just proves that something happened that someone doesn't want getting out, and it's not like the police are still looking..." She sighed again and rubbed her forehead with her palm.

"Why do you care so much?" Moe asked quietly. "It's not like you knew her or her family, and you certainly don't owe Chase anything. The police have already looked at all of this, Jane. If they think it was a mugger, maybe you should just believe them and let it go."

"But the note-" Jane began.

"Doesn't prove anything," he interjected. "It's a small town. Hell, the note could have been from the mugger. All I know is, I don't want you getting involved in any more of this. Please promise me you'll stop?" 

Jane was silent for a few minutes as she thought about it. "Okay," she replied finally. "I won't write about the murder anymore." It was hardly the decision she wanted to make, but she could see the concern in his eyes, and she knew he was right. It wasn't fair to put their family at risk. 

Moe set Izzy down in her high chair and took Jane's hands in his. "Thank you," he said, gazing at her seriously. "I appreciate it more than you know. I don't want us to fight about it, I just want us to be honest with each other."

But as he enveloped his wife in a hug, she couldn't help but feel guilty. She'd hardly been honest with him in the recent past- and if she carried out the plans she had in mind, she'd wasn't exactly going be very honest in the future.

Posted in: chapter 1, story