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Miles always loved a quiet morning. He had to wake up fairly early most days, but Phoenix usually woke up with him. Today that wasn’t the case. Phoenix wanted to sleep in, but Miles still needed to get ready for work.
The prosecutor put on the coffee and then started to make himself breakfast. The coffee finished before he was done, so he just drank it as he finished making his food. The house continued to be quiet for a long while after Miles made breakfast. Only as he started to prepare everything to study a case was he not alone anymore.
“Papa?” Trucy called into the dark house. Miles turned on the kitchen lights so she could see where he was.
“Good morning, Trucy,” Miles greeted. He ruffled her hair as she came to his side. “You’re up early.
“I didn’t want to go back to sleep,” Trucy mumbled.
Miles leaned down and picked her up. “Your father isn’t awake yet.”
Trucy lit up. “Does that mean I can help you with work?”
“If you would like to,” Miles agreed. He carried Trucy over to the dining table and set her down in a chair. “We have an hour before you have to be at school.”
“I think it’ll be easy to crack this case,” Trucy said confidently.
“We’ll see about that. I’ll remind you that we’re trying to prove the suspect guilty,” Miles informed. Trucy pouted. She crossed her arms and looked away from Miles. A soft smile crossed the latter’s face. “You can play defense.”
“Yay!” Trucy squealed.
Sometimes Miles thought that Trucy was Phoenix’s actual daughter. They were so similar that the non-biological part of their relationship could be ignored. Trucy had a full eight years to develop a personality before Phoenix adopted her. Apparently, the personality she developed was just a younger, more feminine version of Phoenix. Maybe they were just meant to be father and daughter.
“Alright. The main suspect is this woman. She’s being tried for killing a coworker out of an assumed jealousy. The victim is this woman. Here’s all the listed witnesses and evidence,” Miles explained.
At the very top of the list of witnesses was a man named Homer Cide. From the stories that Trucy had heard, she had a very strong feeling about him.
“Do you think she did it?” Trucy asked.
“No, I don’t, but that’s not the point,” Miles sighed.
“We should prove her innocence so you can do better at your job,” Trucy suggested.
Miles stretched his arms above his head. “Alright, let's try that.”
“So, she was killed with a big kitchen knife,” Trucy observed.
“Yes. This all happened at a hotel, but the suspect works in room service, not the kitchens,” Miles started.
“But all these people worked in the kitchen?” Trucy asked.
“Except for these two here. They’re the manager and the owner of the hotel,” MIles pointed out.
Trucy thought for a moment. “I think that this lady didn’t do it. If the motivation was jealousy over a promotion, then the room service lady shouldn’t be upset that a kitchen lady got a promotion.”
Despite prior knowledge that she probably wasn’t guilty, Trucy was right. The suspect had almost no way of knowing when or why the victim got the promotion.
“She was the assistant head line cook, then became the team lead. Half of these other people weren't even able to get that promotion,” Trucy continued. She took some of the sticky notes Miles had out and placed them over some of the photos. “So this guy is the only guy left.”
“You really think it’s Homer Cide,” Miles questioned.
“Mhm. He’s the only other assistant head line cook here,” Trucy stated.
Miles sat back in his chair. “So why would he want to kill her?”
“Because it says here that she was there for two years, but he was there for five,” Trucy explained.
“But what if the victim worked in another department before moving to the kitchens?” Miles challenged.
“She was only 21, papa,” Trucy said obnoxiously.
Miles rolled his eyes. “Well, I didn't see that.”
“You need to read this better, papa. Mr. Cide was the only one who ever used the murder weapon,” Trucy informed.
“Okay, so why would Homer Cide place the blame on a very kindly old woman?” Miles inquired.
Trucy’s brow furrowed. She went back to the papers to look at the suspect description. “Here we go! Because she went to the kitchen all the time to talk to the victim during her lunch break. So they were really close friends and she was in the place at the right time where she could’ve used the knife.”
“Fair enough. Now, the prosecution,” Miles started.
Trucy sighted dramatically. “I don’t wanna do that part…”
“We have to. I get paid to do it, babygirl,” Miles stated.
From up the stairs, Miles’ bedroom door opened. He could hear his name being called by a sleep-saddled Phoenix.
“Go get ready for school. I’ll drive you there on my way to work,” Miles said. He stood up to go get his boyfriend.
“Babe,” Phoenix trailed off. He pulled Miles toward him by the front of his shirt.
“Yes, my love?” Miles replied.
“What time is it?” Phoenix mumbled into Miles’ neck.
Miles chuckled. “It’s almost eight.”
Phoenix groaned. “I gotta take Trucy to school…”
“I’ll do it, love. You go back to sleep,” Miles said into Phoenix’s hair. “I’ve got an early meeting.”
“Mkay,” Phoenix mumbled. He kissed the corner of Miles’ jaw. “Did you make food?”
“For myself,” Miles answered.
Phoenix pulled away from Miles’ arms. “I’ll make myself something then.”
“Don’t burn down my kitchen.”
“I’ll try.”