Chapter 4 The Right Side of Danger

DAVE

I slouched in my chair, scanning through reports, when my phone buzzed. I glanced down, squinting at the screen, wondering which headache was waiting for me this time.

The lab results from last week's alley mess blinked on my screen. I skimmed fast-knife, attacker, victim, just routine stuff. Then a name stopped me.

Meredith Stevens.

I stared at the screen and read it again.

Her DNA was on the knife. On the attacker. Even traces on the victim.

The lab tech's note made my stomach twist: "Blood type unusual. Mutated. Rechecking for accuracy."

I leaned back, rubbing my eyes. Yesterday, she'd sat across from me in a spotless office and told me she'd seen nothing.

That wasn't true.

Blood type... mutated? What the hell is happening? My head started pounding just thinking about it.

I waved Miller over, "You gotta see this." My throat was dry, like I'd swallowed sand.

He leaned in, frowning. "Meredith Stevens... wait. Are you kidding me? Her DNA... at the scene?"

I ran a hand through my hair, gripping the edge of the desk. "It's there. And her prints. In the building. She lied yesterday. Saw nothing? Bullshit."

Miller shook his head. "You really gonna confront her?"

"Yes," I said, standing abruptly. "I'm going now. Screw appointments".

I drove to Aurora Luxe Holdings. At the front desk, the receptionist frowned when I asked for Meredith.

"Ms. Stevens?" she said. "She's not in today. Working from home"

Perfect, now I have to go to her house.

I pulled her address from police records. Standard procedure for VIP witnesses. Her building was one of those where every visitor got scanned. Perfect. I had enough reason-witness statements, timelines to justify this visit.

The city lights streaked past. My fingers dug into the wheel. My heart was pounding. Not from the drive. From what I was about to do

When I reached her building, the doorman squinted at me.

"Detective Callahan?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Police business. Need to see Meredith Stevens. It's urgent." I showed my badge, hoping it would be enough.

After a tense pause, he relented. I took the elevator up, every floor feeling heavier than the last.

Her door cracked open. She peeked out. Hair loose, eyes wide. Her hand gripped the frame so tight the knuckles turned white. She blinked like she was trying to collect herself.

"Detective Callahan... what are you doing here? In my home?" Her voice was sharp and tight. "You... have no right to just show up."

"I need to talk to you," I said, keeping my voice calm but firm. "About that night. About the alley."

Her expression hardened immediately. "I... I run a company, Detective. An empire. You barging in here... this isn't acceptable. I don't have time for this."

"I'm not here for small talk," I said, glancing at her carefully. "Your prints are at the crime scene. DNA, fingerprints, even on the knife. That's not small talk. That's evidence. Can you explain that?"

She stiffened, hands moving to her sides, as if bracing herself. "I... I don't know what you want from me. I already told the office I'm working from home. I have work to do. You're... overstepping."

"You're hiding something," I said, taking a careful step closer. "Yesterday, you told me you saw nothing. That's a lie. Your DNA says otherwise. You were there. You know it."

Her eyes darted away, and I noticed her movements were slower than usual, almost faint. Her skin looked pale, and she was breathing shallowly.

"I... I can't-" she whispered, voice weak.

"Yes, you can," I said. "You can tell me what happened. You can't pretend the evidence isn't there."

Her hand went to her side, brushing the ribs, and she stumbled slightly. I caught her before she fell.

"Whoa... steady," I said. She was weak, burning up, trembling.

"I... I'm fine," she whispered, weakly pulling back.

She's pale. Weak. And lying. God, what the hell is going on?

Then I saw it-the blood spreading across the right side of her shirt. My mind snapped back to Sarah's statement: the creature had been stabbed on the right side.

"Meredith," I said, voice softer but urgent, "how did you get this wound? Why isn't it treated?"

She shook her head slowly, whispering, "No... no hospital. Please..."

I took a careful step closer. "You could be dying. I don't care who you are. You're coming with me. Hospital. Now."

Her lips trembled, and she tried to pull away, but I gently held her arm. Her body was weak, her breathing shallow, yet she still carried herself like the CEO she always was.

Something deep in me screamed. This wasn't just a lie.

This was... something else.

"Meredith Stevens," I said quietly, "who are you?"