Sincerely

I was awoken in the early hours of the morning by my phone ringing. I groaned rolling over and picking it up.

“What?” I hissed, cursing the bright light of the screen.

“We got a case, I’ll see you in twenty,” my boss commented.

I groaned again.

“Who’s murdering at two in the morning? They couldn’t wait until the sun was up at least?” I retort.

“Do they ever wait until a civilized hour? Hurry up,” he throws back before hanging up.

I got up, got dressed, and made sure I had my phone, badge and gun before locating my car keys on the hook by the front door and leaving, locking up my apartment behind me. I got in my black sedan and keyed in the address my boss had texted me. The GPS led me to a house in a rich neighbourhood, something seemed familiar about it even in the blue and red lights of cop cars. I shut my sedan off and got out.

A beat cop was waiting at the end of the driveway, keeping the public at bay. I approached the sidewalk.

“Badge?” he stated.

I flashed it and of course, he recognized it and lifted the yellow crime scene tape for me. I walked up to the house where CSIs and cops were swarming the place. People had evidence bags and print dusters, etc.

“Where’s the boss?” I ask.

“Hey, Kramer. Foster’s here,” someone called before turning back to their work.

Our boss, a tall, dark-skinned, bald man appeared out of the room.

“Ah, Foster, good,” he commented.

“Who’s the victim?” I asked.

“Carlos Fairfield,” he replied.

“Are you serious? Who killed him? Someone’s about to come into a lot of money,” I comment.

“His android, the knife used is void of prints so it checks out,” he replies.

The killer could have just wiped the knife down.

“Are we sure it was his android? Androids don’t kill people normally,” I state.

“He’s clearly a deviant, they’re just as dangerous as humans in that state,” he reasons. “I’m putting you in charge of catching this android, Foster, alright?”

“Alright boss,” I reply. “Do we know where he went?”

“No trail, good luck,” he comments.

“Sure,” I hiss annoyed he was leaving me with no leads.

I made sure the evidence was collected, the body was off to the morgue, and the next of kin was notified.

When Huxley Fairfield, Carlos’ son arrived, something seemed off. Maybe he was just in shock but he was oddly calm, then again, he hadn’t been close to his father in a while according to the news. They said the two weren’t eye to eye for a while and there was talk of a revised will. While my boss was sure it was his android who has killed Carlos, it wouldn’t stop me from making sure Huxley hadn’t been involved in any way shape or form.

“When was the last time you saw your father or his android?” I asked him.

“My father six months ago, his android, last week. If my father wanted to contact me, he would send his android,” he answers.

“Why did he want to contact you last week?” I ask.

“Something about paperwork,” he comments.

Another odd thing was that the bedroom window was broken, yet there seem to be little defensive wounds on Carlos, maybe the android used it to escape because the front door seemed too obvious, he was a deviant now, after all, I wasn’t going to pretend to understand deviants. Or maybe Carlos had struggled and it had been broken in the struggle. Why else would his android flee if he was innocent?

Then again deviants made about as much sense as humans these days. Killing wasn’t in a robot's programming but self-defence was, then again if this robot was a deviant, it meant he had felt in some capacity towards Carlos. He had to feel something otherwise he would have no motive to kill him. But if he cared about Carlos why would he want to kill him? I couldn’t write it off completely but it made me wonder because one thing I knew about most deviants was they thought a lot more in black and white than humans did meaning Carlos had to have done something pretty severe for the robot to attack and kill him.

I rarely saw cases with androids who showed this level of violence without reason if at all, even countrywide.

If anything, Huxley’s inheritance was a better motive in my mind for this level of violence than self-defence. Carlos had multiple stab wounds but there were few signs of struggle other than the broken window which didn’t line up with self-defence either, it also looked as if Carlos had been stabbed as he slept which didn’t add up to self-defence either. If Carlos had been trying to hurt the android there should have been evidence of them being injured too, not just Carlos. There was no bodily fluid from an android anywhere in the house, and no history of damage to the android but he could have kept it on the down low. Still, none of this story was lining up.

By six in the morning, I was exhausted and the sun was just starting to rise. We had released Huxley because we didn’t have enough to hold him and we still didn’t know where Carlos’ android was, without him we wouldn’t have the full story so we had to keep looking, but first I needed a proper rest.

Once everything was collected and the crime scene was secured and everyone left, I left myself to go back to my bed. I didn’t sleep for long, not even five hours I was back up because I had woken and couldn’t fall back asleep, plus the library had a book drive today that police officers and detectives were supposed to attend if they could as we supported the book drive and further of education. I decided to attend because a lot of people would be there, and maybe something would come up. Also, we needed to recruit volunteers for other events we were holding later next week so it was important for some of us to attend for the press, in the end, I did these events to distract from how quiet my life would be otherwise. I was a workaholic, that was why I was the one often called in at late hours of the night, I wasn’t being dragged away from anything but sleeping and I could survive on little of that.

I arrived at the library, there was an area cleared and some of my fellow officers were taking books and organizing them into genres and age groups. People were looking at the books that had already been logged and deciding on whether to borrow them or not.

“Hey, Foster. Didn’t think you’d make it after last night,” Raider, one of my colleagues, comments.

I rolled my eyes, he could be a pain in the ass sometimes. I looked around and saw the teen fiction section drowning in books with only three people to organize them, so I decided to help. I grabbed a box and sat down at a table, studying the boxes that had already been sorted to see what genres we already had before I started sorting my own box into them.

When I glanced up, I saw a man looking around the library nervously, he looked unsure and a little lost, like he’d never been to a library before. He had dark, brown hair and light green eyes, an unusual combination but no indicator, which meant he was human as far as I could tell, he was also in human clothing rather than the uniforms they wore. He was kind of cute.

I shook my head once the thought entered it, turning back to the books, but I felt my eyes drawn back to him as he moved around the library. There was an information sign with a list of future events we would be holding that he was looking at.

“Lev, you good?” Alice asks when she notices I’m distracted.

“Yeah,” I mutter quickly looking away from him again.

Eventually, the books slowed to a trickle and they were able to handle it so I got up to go next door to a coffee shop to get some coffee and something to eat. The shop was a lot quieter than the library.

I ordered my usual, a black coffee with two sugars, and got a Boston Crème before looking around at the seats available. It was then that I spotted him, sitting with a book in the back corner. The same guy from earlier. His bright eyes scanned the pages unusually fast before flipping them. Next to him, he also had a flyer from one of the food drives, a lot of our guys worked in food banks accepting donations helping families and people who would otherwise starve if it weren’t for events or places like them.

I paused before my brain made me chicken out and went over to him. I wasn’t getting any vibes from him, and I decided it would be better to try and befriend him before I tried anything.

“Hey,” I called, making him jump and almost drop his book. “Do you mind if I sit here?” I ask once I have his attention.

He seemed to look me over, before shrugging.

“What’s your name?” I ask, setting my coffee and drink down.

He glanced at me again as if analyzing me.

“Deckard,” he answered.

“I’m Lev,” I introduce myself holding out my hand.

He looked at it before setting his book down fully, marking the page and returning the gesture.

“I see you're looking into the food drive,” I reply pointing to the page.

He glanced at it.

“Yeah, I need a job,” he commented.

People only got paid a little to help with more major roles, most were volunteers who worked out of the goodness of their hearts.

“The event’s on Sunday, I could introduce you to some of the people there, I work with a lot of them,” I comment.

He looked at me still nervous.

“Sure, I guess, thanks,” he replies.

“Do you want to meet there?” I inquire lightly not wanting to imply too much.

He seemed to be studying me for a second before agreeing.

“Sure,” he comments.

I spot one of the regular workers looking over in our direction, Alyssa, I knew she had a minor crush on me and I rolled my eyes trying to hunker down and hide from her but she had already spotted me and was on her way.

“You with him, Lev?” she comments almost annoyed, that wasn’t her normal tone with me unless I upset her. “I was about to kick him out for not being a paid customer.”

I look at the table and realized I was the only one with food or drink.

“I told you, I wasn’t hungry or thirsty, I just wanted a quiet place to read my book. I thought libraries were supposed to be quiet,” he muttered in the last part.

I waved Alyssa off.

“Are you sure?” I ask. “I could buy you something,” I offer.

“I’m fine,” he hisses almost as annoyed as Alyssa.

I shrug, eating my donut and drinking my coffee as he buries his head back in his book. He pauses after a while, setting the book down on the table, watching me out of the corner of his eye.

“Sorry,” he finally admits.

“A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours,” he adds quietly. “I kind of just want to be left alone.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask gently.

“I can’t—” he cursed “Not now.”

“That’s fair, we just met. Maybe you’d feel more comfortable talking to someone you know better,” I comment.

He looked saddened by that statement but didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry, too for intruding, I’ll see you on Sunday. Maybe it would be better if you went home and read the book so Alyssa doesn’t bother you, either,” I reason.

He looked at me, surprised by my words.

“Yeah, see you,” is all he says in reply though.

I get up, throwing my trash out before going out to my sedan and going into the station to see how the evidence was being processed and if there were any new developments.