Chapter 8 The Freak

• Marianne Lee Parker, The tenacious investigative Journalist with a passion that had a voice of its own. She’s 35, Italian-American, and stands tall with an olive complexion. Her confidence was written all over her. From her accent, you could tell she was not brought up here.
• Marianne’s journey began in a small Italian town, where she was born into a working-class family. Life wasn’t always easy for her, especially after her father left when she was a child. Left with her mom, who struggled with alcoholism. Marianne had to navigate a challenging upbringing. She spent a few years in a foster home when her mother’s addiction became uncontrollable. life wasn’t always fair but it was during those difficult times that her resilience and determination began to take shape.
• Driven by her passion for seeking justice, Marianne pursued her education in the United States, earning a bachelor’s degree in journalism. She knew that becoming an investigative journalist would allow her to shine a light on the truth and make a difference in the world.
• With her tall stature and striking olive skin, Marianne possesses a presence that commands attention. But I’ts her sharp intellect and unwavering dedication that truly set apart. Her energy was different and you could tell. She is a talented Journalist who fearlessly pursuing leads.
• There was this particular case that had consumed Marianne’s life--- The murder of Rory Hughes. This high-profile case tested her skills and pushed her to the limits. Through tireless investigation and unwavering determination, she was able to unravel the complex web of secrets surrounding Rory’s death, untimely exposing the true murderer. Her success in this case solidified her reputation as a top-notch investigative journalist.
• “Hello detective Jake, I’m Marianne Parker. The investigative journalist was assigned to homicide case that took place downtown. I look forward to working with you” she said as she walked into the detective offering a handshake.
• Detective Jake returned Marianne’s firm handshake, feeling a surge of anticipation and hope. Her introduction left no doubt that she was a force to be reckoned with. Her confidence radiated from every pore, and it was evident that she was a master of her craft.
• Marianne’s smile, though seemingly innocent, held a hidden message. It was a smile that spoke volumes. Hinting at the depth of her determination and the secrets she held close. It was a smile that said, “I will stop at nothing to uncover the truth”
• As they locked eyes, a silent understanding passed between them. It’s a familiar case, nothing different from the ones they’ve handled before. Detective Jake and Marianne knew they were going to make a great team. With a nod of agreement, detective Jake led Marianne to the evidence room, where files of the case were stacked up high.
• As we walked into the room. She turned to me, finally noticing my presence. “And you are?” she asked with her gaze intense and searching. I hesitated for a moment, then managed to say, “ I--I’m Anise, the daughter of the deceased.” There was a pause, and then Marianne asked if we could take a walk. Her eyes held a hint of curiosity, as if she was searching for something.
• I gave a slight nod, and we began to walk together. Detective Jake gave me a reassuring look, silently letting me know that Marianne was on our team and there was nothing to worry about. I turned to him; letting him know that I am only doung this because he assured me that it was okay.
• As we continued our walk through the dimly lit streets, Marianne’s line of questioning took a different turn. However the intensity in her eyes made it clear she had a specific agenda
• “from the pictures taken at the crime scene, there were strands of hair found under her finger nails…black silk hair strands. It’s normal; I mean, she might have just finished brushing her hair before the attack but my curiosity piqued when I realized she had a shiny brown hair.. not black.” she said looking up to my hair and finally returned those eyes down to my face. The energy was different, I did not need a fortune teller to tell me that Marianne was interrogating me as a suspect on seeing that I was the one with a silk black hair… not my mum.
• Her words hung in the air like a weight, as she mentioned the strands of black silk hair found under my mother’s fingernails at the crime scene. The revelation sent a chill down my spine. I had never considered that my own hair..well, not pratically mine could be connected to such a tragic event. Marianne’s ability to connect dots was uncanny, and her interrogative prowess was on full display. you could call her the freak.
• Caught off guard, I stumbled over my words, struggling to find an explanation but I couldn’t. the truth is , there was a huge resemblance and you could tell.
• “ are you trying to accuse me of killing my mom?” I managed to say. “ I can’t believe you would think of that. There must be some mistake somewhere. I loved my mother, I would never…” before I could finish my sentence, Marianne interrupted. Her eyes piercing into mine. “ I’m not accusing you, but the evidence is compelling. We need to find the truth, for your sake and for your mum’s.”
• I know I should understand her reasons for being this way but accusing me of killing my own mother? It was a thought I couldn’t bear to entertain. Not from her, not from anyone. I wanted to leave and I did