Blooming Beyond - Part 1

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Wrap yourself in a blanket and join the chase for answers. Even quiet suburban homes hold secrets behind closed doors.
Rated M- Mature themes, psychological drama

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No Room for Debate

Daliah lingered in her car more than necessary. Her eyes still scanned the street, looking for anything unusual. The neighborhood was quiet, a typical suburban setting of cookie-cutter houses.
She had been parked across from 204 Eucalyptus Lane for almost two hours. No signs of life, no one coming or going. Nearly 3 o’clock.

She clicked her tongue, irritated at the prospect of having to probe for answers in a more practical sense. She sighed, unlocked the door, and quickly glanced through the notes on the passenger seat. Something about the case captivated her, which was the main reason for taking it—besides the decent compensation from the client.

As she neared the house, she skimmed the porch and its surroundings. Everything Immaculately kept. It was a surprising level of care for a single dad—but perhaps not for someone who spent so much time at home after recent events.

She kept her license card and a small notepad at the ready after pulling them out of her pocket.
The TV murmuring through the walls confirmed that someone was indeed home, as suspected. A wedding photograph stood on the dresser through the thick glass of the front door; however, the bride beside Mr. Meshram did not seem to be Riko. It was a blond woman instead, more than likely Chris-

"Can I help you?"
A smooth voice coming from behind her cut through Daliah's analytical thoughts.
She jolted lightly, startled by the unforeseen presence.
"Is this Mr. Meshram's house?"
The last thing she wanted was to come off as a stalker.
The golden-haired girl stepped past. Her resemblance to the lady on the photograph was uncanny. Unbothered, she hummed a nod and rifled through her backpack for a set of keys.
"Are you another detective?"
She asked nonchalantly, without looking back at Daliah, unconcerned by an answer she already knew.
"Not exactly, I'm a—"
"Daaaad," the girl called out dramatically as she slipped into the house, "there is a detective lady creeping at the door."

Daliah scoffed lightly at the girl's wit, who gave her a cheeky smile before vanishing up the staircase. She knew she wouldn't be welcome. Mr. Meshram hadn't returned any of the calls made prior to this home visit, after all. It seemed she wasn't the only one trying to get a hold of the man.
A moment later, Dario Meshram appeared in the doorway, perfectly poised.

He spoke in a firm tone, leaving no room for debate, nor for courtesy greetings.
"I already gave my statement to the police. What is this about?"
"My name is Daliah Loden, private investigator." She flashed her card, "I was hired by your late wife’s family to review her case. This won’t take long—just a few clarifications."
"The case has already been closed; I have nothing else to add."

Daliah's voice cut in, steady but sharper.
"Your wife’s family is not done. They want answers, and they will send someone else, if not me, but you already knew that."
He gave her a sarcastic laugh, taunting.
"Let me guess: you want to be the one to crack the case? How much money are they paying you?"
"Mr. Meshram, I can assure you that—"
He cut her off unapologetically, eager to shorten the exchange.
"Actually, don't bother answering that. I will tell you the same thing I told the others:
This is not a case you want. Go on and enjoy your life instead."

Daliah's voice became layered with frustration. Dario had made a valid point about her motivations. Although they ran deeper than numbers, she couldn't ignore the fact that Riko's family had offered a considerable sum to whoever would solve the case. Her ultimate motivation, however, was to get to the bottom of the truth, as would any dedicated investigator.
"Three women tied to you are dead under the same circumstances. Intimidating anyone away won’t make the facts vanish, Mr. Meshram."

An awkward silence stretched. 

Dario's jaw tightened. Riko's family already knew more than he had expected. But it didn't change anything, just like telling the truth now wouldn't make any difference either. They all already saw him as a murderer.
Daliah sighed lightly, noticing the impact of her words. She added softly, in an attempt to find the middle ground that would get her past his defensive walls.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Meshram, I think we got off on the wrong foot."
Her voice steadied, but her eyes stayed on him, reading his tension.
"I know there is no evidence legally tying you to any of those deaths. But I also know that only you hold the answers to what happened. Only you can give Riko's family closure and stop this witch hunt."

Dario exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to focus his thoughts.
"Trust me," he uttered in a low voice, almost defeated, "I want nothing more than to lay her memory to rest..."
"Then help me do that. Give me something—anything—that clears the smoke around her death. I’m not here to condemn you, Mr. Meshram. I’m here to understand."

The wedding photo toppled off the dresser inside, glass surprisingly intact despite a fall from a few feet.
Dario flinched, a chill running down his spine. He muttered a few barely comprehensible words, then swung the door quickly:

"Tomorrow. Magnolia Promenade Park, 12 p.m."

The door was already shut before Daliah could even react.

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