Irina Dale lived in a small log cabin-like house near the edge of town. Irina hardly ever had visitors, so when a knock sounded from the front door, she was obviously surprised. Cautiously, Irina turned off the gas for her tea, and walked towards the front door.
“Miss Irina Dale?” A tall man with dark hair read from a white sheet of paper. Irina nodded.
“What are you doing out here all alone, miss?” The man’s eyes met hers.
“I like it out here,” Irina responded, proudly.
Irina looked up, expecting to see surprise painted across the man’s face. Instead he was nodding, as if this didn’t surprise him. “If I may ask, are you really out here because you like it, or because someone hurt you?” the man asked.
“Before I give you all the details to my personal life, may I ask who you are and what you are doing here, sir?” Irina spoke, her tone sharp.
“Of course, sorry miss,” the man didn’t even flinch, “My name is James North, I’m an FBI Agent. I’m here investigating a murder that occurred in this area.” Irina immediately felt bad for snapping at James. Then again, how was she to know? She hardly ever went out.
“A murder? I didn’t realize, I’m sorry,” Irina tucked her head.
“No problem, miss. Now, if I may continue with my questioning?” James asked. Irina nodded and decided to politely answer all of James’ questions.
Irina didn’t understand how half of James’ questions would help with the investigation, but she didn’t say anything about it.
“Sorry to waste your time miss, last question, I promise. Do you have any friends or family that you contact regularly?” James asked.
Irina didn’t understand how this would help, but she still answered, “My sister Iris contacts me about once every month or so. She visits me a couple times a year, but other than her, no one comes to visit me.”
“Thank you miss,” James wrote something down on his paper before placing it inside his jacket pocket.
“Before you leave, sir, I was just wondering. Who was it that was…murdered.” Irina’s voice softened.
She expected James to look remorseful or sad, but instead he grinned at her and pulled something shiny out of his pocket. “You,” he said simply before plunging a dagger into her heart.