Free Two-Faced by Sylvia Selfman, N. Selfman

breakfast."
    "Sure thing. See you in about an hour"
     
     
    Jess chopped up the mushrooms, onion and green peppers for the omelet and scooped them into the frying pan. While the vegetables were sauteing she ground the coffee beans and emptied them into the French press––a luxury that she usually reserved only for weekends. Then she reached into the cupboard for plates to set the table when the doorbell rang.
    Maddy was early.
    She hoped that didn't mean the showing had gone poorly. Jess wiped her hands on the dish towel and went to the front door.
    "Maddy, you're early..." she said, as she opened it.
    Two men stood in the doorway, the older one held up a badge.
    She stared at it unable to speak or look away.
    "Are you Jessica Parks?”
    With his jowly, hangdog face and stocky, wide-legged stance, he bore a distinct resemblance to a bulldog.
    She stood paralyzed with fear. “ What is this about?” she said softly.
    “ I’m Detective Mathers and this is my partner Detective Sykes. LAPD.”
    Jess looked fr om one man to the other.
    "Ma'am can you tell us where you were last night?” the older cop asked.
    She reached out to the doorframe for support.
    "Ma'am can you tell us where you were last night?" the younger of the two men asked again.
    "I...I was here...ho me sick," she said forcing the words out. 
    The older cop scribbled something on his note-pad and looked at her with narrowed suspicious eyes that bored right through her. "Can anyone verify that?"
    Jess felt her knees give way and held more tightly to the door-frame. What would come next, she wondered. Handcuffs. Then they’d read her of her rights. Then they’d lead her away.
    “ What?” she asked, vaguely. She realized that the younger detective was speaking but she couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. His eyes seemed to be looking at her with concern, telling her she ought to sit down.
    But that made no sense.
    "I don’t understand. Please…” she whispered. “Just tell me what's going on.”
    The two detectives looked at one another and finally the younger one, Sy kes, spoke."I'm afraid we have some bad news. Your father was found dead last night."
    Jess stared at them in shock.
     
    Sykes helped Jess over to the couch. She felt as if she were in someone else's nightmare where nothing made sense. "I don't understand," s he said, shaking her head, trying to clear the fog. “He was in perfect health. I just saw him.”
    “ When was that exactly?" Mathers asked.
    Jess looked at him blankly. “ What?” She realized she was shivering, though she didn’t feel cold.  “Was it a heart attack?” asked, looking from one to the other of the men.
    "No," Mathers said. "He was murdered.”
    She looked down at her shaking hands. “ No, that can’t be.” None of this made sense.
    The acrid smell of coffee mixed with burning onions assaulted her nose and a wa ve of nausea swept over her. She had to get up and turn off the stove.
    But she couldn't move.
    Mathers looked at his notepad. "So you said you were here home sick last night? Anyone to corroborate that?"
    Detective Sykes shot him a look and whispered, "Je eze, Mathers. Not now. Go get her a drink or something."
    As Mathers walked towards the kitchen Sykes pulled up a chair. "Is there anyone we can call for you, ma'am? Your husband? A friend?"
    Jess shook her head. "I'm separated," she said softly. "A friend's on her way over. We were going to have breakfast."
    Mathers returned holding a cup of coffee. "I found a pot on,” he said, handing the cup to Jess. "Turned off the stove too. Guess your breakfast got burnt."
    Jess nodded blankly. She held the cup of cof fee, staring out at nothing. She should get up. Call Ally. But she couldn't summon the will to move.
    "Look, do you know when your friend will be here?" Sykes asked.
    "Soon..." Her voice trailed off. “Who would want to kill my father?”
    “ We’re looking into it. Do you know if he had any enemies?”
    Jess shook her head. “ None