The suffocating wind

The wind blew angrily as it began to pour, air was suffocating to a particular someone. The noise from the downpour overshadowed all the chatters, sniffles, and sobs in the gloomy environment.

A woman, in her mid-thirties, dressed in a black blouse and loose pants walked closer to Kenzie and took the umbrella she was holding, and opened it. She covered herself and Kenzie with it. "Stay under cover, baby." Kenzie's mother, Mrs. Whitney Davison instructed her, her voice was low and it was almost inaudible.

"My condolences." Someone walked to Kenzie and said softly as she patted Kenzie's back. She turned to Mrs. Davison and repeated her words. Mrs. Davison nodded but Kenzie remained silent, her gaze never let the tombstone in front of her. 

Down here it was written, 'In loving memory, Mr Andrew Davison. A kind and loving husband and father.' 

A tear rolled down Kenzie's cheek, her eyes were dark and seemed to have shrunk, her cheeks were bright red and her lips were wet but it wasn't lip gloss. 

The bitter reality that her father is no longer with her is proving hard for her to accept, especially when she has something to blame. She clenched her fists beside her as she sniffled back the snort coming out. 

She suddenly walked out of the umbrella and headed to the exit of the graveyard. Her mother called out to her but Kenzie didn't respond. 

She took her red Camry and drove to her grandparents' mansion. 

At the gate, a surveillance camera scanned her face and the gate opened automatically once her identity was verified. 

She drove into the luxurious mansion, with a water fountain close to the entrance of the house, and a maize garden was at the left side of the place. 

She parked her car, got off with a file then walked quickly inside the house. At this hour, she knew they would be in their garden so she went there directly. 

She found her grandparents, Mr and Mrs Ziegler, sitting peacefully under a shade, and a table was in front of them, and on top of it was a kettle, two cups, and a plate with two slices of cake. 

They stared at the maize garden in front of them, whispered to themselves, and then wrote something down. Mrs. Ziegler received a notification on her phone and after reading it, she turned and met Kenzie's eyes. Kenzie approached them, she sat opposite them, her cheeks were bright red, she was there on her bare face without makeup, and she looked pitiful. "You didn't attend the burial, it was today." She said, her voice was almost inaudible. 

"Was it today? We totally forgot but our presence wouldn't have made any difference would it?" After they had observed her for a few seconds, Mr Ziegler pressed a telecom on the table and requested a maid come with an extra cup and some sugar. He turned to Kenzie again, "I know a lot of things about grieving, and showing support for the grieving isn't comforting at all. He's dead and gone, what's best is for you to forget about him now." 

"That'll be difficult," Kenzie said softly, her voice in an undertone.

"Well it's never easy, but you'll have to try." Mrs Ziegler encouraged them and turned to the maize garden again.

"I don't want to, not yet, not until I know who my father's killer is and he pays for it." Her voice got higher as she said each word.

"Father's killer? I thought it was dissolved as suicide?" Mr Ziegler raised a brow and questioned. "We got a little briefing about the case, he committed suicide because he was in 3 million dollars in debt and didn't have any means of paying it. I also heard your mother was his next of kin so she has to pay back what he owes. Was I misinformed?" 

"What you heard isn't wrong. That's how the case was closed but that's not true, my father isn't like that. He wouldn't have borrowed such an amount and he definitely wouldn't leave us like that to pay it ourselves." The sudden conviction in her eyes made her words very convincing.  

"Well the record did say he borrowed so how do you explain that?" Mrs Ziegler asked, still staring at her garden.

"That's why I want to catch his killer, once I do I'll be able to get to the bottom of everything." 

With those words, the interest Mr Ziegler had on the conversation disappeared, he broke eye contact and took a sip of his cup of tea. "Oh dear, we've seen this phase in grieving. We also went through it. This phase is what you call denial. I think you should focus more on helping your mother raise the money instead of looking for an imaginary murderer." 

"It's not imaginary. I need you guys to believe me." Kenzie's voice was the loudest now, filled with desperation, she placed her hand on the table and clenched her fists. Her eyes were pleading with them but Mr Ziegler pretended not to notice while Mrs Ziegler wasn't even looking. 

"And why?" Mrs Ziegler asked calmly. 

"Because I want your help. I need your connections, power, and money to find the killer as soon as possible. If you'll help me, I'll be eternally grateful." She explained, hoping Mrs Ziegler would meet her eyes.

"What use would that be for us?" She asked again.

"Huh?" 

"You being grateful to us, how would that be useful to us?" Mrs Ziegler repeated, sounding a little irritated. 

"Well…" Kenzie trailed off as the maid came with the cup and sugar, "Please help me, you're the only hope I have. Please help." She added desperately as the maid poured some tea from the kettle. 

"We can't just waste our resources and call in favors under the beliefs of a grieving woman, dear you have to look at it from our point of view. We can't just pull strings for nothing." Mr Ziegler told her coldly. 

"Who says I want you to investigate just because of a hunch? I have proof." Kenzie announced, her eyes were glaring at them. 

"Then let's see it." 

She took the file she kept on her thighs and placed it on the table, "This is his autopsy report, they say he jumped off from the rooftop with the intent to kill himself but if that's the case then why did he inflict these injuries on himself." 

Mrs Ziegler finally looked away from her garden and down at the small table, she took the file and went through it with her husband. It also contained photographs of some bruised parts of Kenzie's father.

"This shows that he was beaten up badly to the point he broke a few bones." 

"That could be because he fell off a building and he was probably beaten up by his debtors. The police discovered that the loan sharks visited him before his death…" Before Mr Ziegler could finish speaking, Kenzie interrupted him, seeming too eager to defend him. 

"I also saw the record and that was a day before his death. That morning I visited home because I had something to collect and he didn't have any bruises. Those were inflicted after he left home and the autopsy clearly says five bones seem to have been broken before the time of death." She spoke as she pointed at the pictures on the file. 

"I see where you're going with this but if that's the case, why come to us and not show the police what they have missed?" Mrs. Ziegler asked, Kenzie remained silent for a while after that. She was panting after talking so much. 

"I did, no one wants to listen to the words of an officer in training and from the grieving family." Her voice was low again.

*****

Later that day, at 9:00, Kenzie laid on a kids' bed and was staring at the ceiling. She was in her childhood bedroom. 

Suddenly her phone rang and she reluctantly checked who the caller was. She was tired of receiving condolence calls but quickly answered when she saw the caller. 

"Hello?" 

"We'll do as you've requested under one condition. We've seen how good you are at investigating, we have a condition for the help we'll offer and that condition is that you'll have to investigate for us."