Gary Wako had a deep disdain for St. Andrews Cathedral Church in Kileleshwa, which he struggled to conceal behind his fake smile. It wasn't the church's grand structure that he despised, but rather the memories it evoked. Every Sunday, he would recall being dragged through the large gilded door like a lost soul, with his mother's unyielding grip on his forearm and sharp nails digging into his skin. "When the bishop calls out, go to him and make sure he places his hands on you. Only hope he manages to fight that evilness in you," she would say, her eyes devoid of any emotion.

This Sunday was no different, as Gary's mother's memory haunted him once again. He wondered why, even after her death, she still tormented him and consumed his thoughts. He couldn't understand why it was so hard to be free of her.

Gary stood impatiently at the low porch as he offered thin greetings to members of the church as they dispersed down the path that skirted the heavily treed garden. The sermon had ended twenty minutes ago.

Yet here he was.

"How much longer?" he asked restlessly, twisting on his feet.

"Just a minute. Oh, there he is," Imelda, his wife, responded cheerfully beside him. She turned to her left, a scowl on her face. "Alex, stop it with your phone."

Gary's sixteen-year-old son, Alex, responded with a grimace and returned his attention to his phone. Gary had grown used to his son's bad mood over the past few days. Alex was tall, with soft yet firm features and dark eyes that resembled the night sky. He hardly spoke to anyone anymore and preferred staying in his room with loud, unsettling music rather than spending time with his parents. This was just a typical teenage phase that Gary had to accept. He had bigger concerns to worry about, such as his declining position at Dillers Co Limited and the mysterious message he received:

'412.'

Who sent it to him and why now?

When Bishop Andrew Luchivia approached them, Imelda quickly offered her hand. "That was a beautiful sermon, Bishop," she said as she shook his hands.

The Bishop smiled and bowed his head, "Am glad you enjoyed it, Mrs. Wako."

When the Bishop was about to leave, Imelda said to him, catching Gary by surprise, "We'd like to invite you to our home for dinner this coming Saturday. If you'll be free, that is."

Gary's eyes fleeted to his wife. What was she talking about? "We?" he asked, his voice a bland whisper.

"I have a tournament on Saturday, Mother. I won't be home," Alex deadpanned.

"You can always go next time," Imelda said sharply to him, then turned to the Bishop, a smile on her lips, "We will be pleased to have you."

**************

Gary Wako was at his house when he received a call from Officer Michael Tanui. "Meet me at Fahari Diner in the evening," Michael had said into the phone.

At exactly 4: 30 pm, Gary walked into the diner, dressed in casual wear; jungle green shirt over denim trousers. He spotted Michael at the cant of the diner. Their eyes met for a mere second, and Gary could almost sense it. Something was a miss.

He took the seat across from Michael and rested his elbows against the glossy table. It was smooth and soft against his skin. "Is there trouble?" He immediately asked.

Michael smiled wanly, "You tell me."

"Oh, quit it," Gary retorted. "You called me here. I suppose you have news for me."

"I went back to Edward's house," Michael said.

"And?"

"I didn't find the drive," he deadpanned. He said it in an 'I told you so' kinda tone.

"Well damn it."

"The drive was never in the house."

"I don't get it."

Michael cut him off, "I want to know something, Gary. What did Officer Edward have on you?"

Gary stared briefly at his hands before raising his eyes and meeting Michael's gaze. He caught the tension in Michael's eyes and knew almost immediately the seriousness of the issue at hand.
"Nothing. Officer Edward didn't have anything on me.

Michael almost rolled his eyes. "That's not good enough, Gary."

"Okay. I'll talk, but under the condition that whatever I say, it won't fall back on me in any court of law."

"I can work with that," said Michael.

"Some few days before his accident, Officer Edward came to me. He said he was investigating the murder of Diane Rucho. He said he had some questions for me. So I took him to my office and we talked for some time."

Michael remembered Edward landing the case and making headlines across various newspapers.

"Were you a suspect?"

Gary laughed at his question. "God no. I can't even hurt a fly."

Michael then realized Gary Wako was far from a suspect.

"You were a witness."

"Yeah, you can say it like that. But most importantly, I had a piece of evidence that was crucial for the case."

"The flash drive?"

"Yes."

A moment of silence passed before Michael asked, "Why do you need the drive now?"

"Am being blackmailed, Michael. I need the drive. It's leverage."

"What's in the drive?"

Michael watched as Gary Wako fidgeted in his seat. "I can't say. Sorry."

"Can't or won't say?"

Gary leaned forward, his voice a mere whisper. "There are wars that are meant to be left alone, Michael."

Michael removed a piece of folded paper from the front pocket of his Jean trousers. He unfolded it and passed it to Gary.

"What am I looking at?"

"That's a police report. It's a list of items that were found inside Officer Edward's car after the crash."

Gary appeared confused. His eyes glazed over the items. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Something is missing in that list, Gary. Edward always had his briefcase with him. If he was in his house, he'd have the briefcase there in the house. If he was driving around, he'd have the briefcase inside the car."

"Are you saying the flash drive was in the briefcase?"

"Yes. And someone went through the trouble of killing Officer Edward just to get to the drive. But I am guessing you already suspected Officer Edward's death was no accident after all. That's why you want the drive so bad. You fear you might be next, right?"

Gary Wako began to stand on his feet. He mumbled silently, fear evident in his voice, "Maybe it's a good thing the drive is missing."

Officer Michael could feel the heat rise to his cheeks. He was starting to get angry. "I could charge you for withholding crucial information, Gary."

"You got no proof. I'll deny it all," came Gary's response before he walked out of the diner.

As Michael Tanui watched Gary Wako's disappearing frame, he realized how correct Gary was. He could deny he ever had the drive with him. He could say he never handed any drive to Officer Edward. It would be Michael's words against his.