POV: Zed

His mouth slashed downward as he pulled into his garage. His neighbor still had his Christmas lights up, even though it was February going on March. Zed softened with the realization that Mr. Dent was an old man who struggled to take anything down on his own.

He closed the door with his foot, grocery bags in both arms.

"Hello."

Zed sucked in a breath, his eyes flying to the corner of the room. Speaking of his neighbor, he offered to sit for his bird on occasion. The green plumage stuck out as the bird repeated his greeting to the man.

Zed wordlessly walked up the stairs to the kitchen. He took out the bag of bird food and brought it back down. The bird's name was Paco and he took every chance there was to fly out when Zed opened the cage.

As he shook the worm mill into the bowl in the cage, Paco bobbed his head up and down and began to chant something very strange.

"He loves me, he loves me not!"

Zed listened with eyes slightly round. Paco squawked, repeated the line a few more times, then quietly ate.

"Huh," the man went.

He wandered back up the stairs to get his own dinner, which didn't look so different from the bird's. Teriyaki noodles. Zed put yesterday's takeout in the microwave and poured a glass of wine, then sat on the couch and turned on the TV.

He watched a police procedural but shut it off after one episode. Zed leaned forward on the couch, eating and drinking silently. One thought burned in the back of his mind since he parted with Erica; the team seriously suggested it was a suicide.

At first, he thought Collins must have been joking, his crass, dry humor that was so typical of him. Did his partner not get the joke? No, the way she looked suggested that the news had been delivered to her very seriously, even though the evidence coming in from the police did not at all paint the picture of someone who ended his own life.

Through his calls, Zed found more information; there was a bloody handprint on the bottom of the door, a lamp broken from being knocked over, and the man's hair was messy from more than just the fall.

The top of his head was tangled in gel-filled knots, as though someone had grabbed him aggressively. There was no evidence that any drugs were in his system. He had all but been the perfect picture of health and sobriety, as stable as someone could get.

His reflection was lost in the wine as he downed the rest of the glass. His cell phone rang. Zed looked at the caller ID. It was an unidentified number. He picked up.

"Hello," Zed answered.

There was no one there. He hung up. Zed stared down at his phone for a long moment. His thumb hovered over the block button when it rang again. It was his neighbor, Mr. Dent.

"Hello, Mr. Dent," he greeted.

A distant knocking came through and what might have been a voice. Then the call ended. Zed immediately called the number back. The ringing stopped abruptly.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hello, this is Mr. Dent."

Zed blinked.

"Sorry I couldn't answer your call. In all likelihood, it's been a bad night," Mr. Dent said.

"Have you been-"

"If you're getting this message, leave your name and number and I'll return your call as soon as I'm free. Alright, goodnight."

There was a click on the other end. He stared at his phone in hand, then put it in his pocket. Zed stood and crossed the living room to the front door. He looked out at his neighbor's house. The garage lights were on.

Had they been on when Zed pulled into his own driveway? All he noticed were the colored lights and halfway deflated Santa on the lawn. The reindeer bowed as Zed walked up to the porch and rang the doorbell.

Mr. Dent wasn't supposed to be back from his trip until Tuesday. He ignored the sinking feeling, clutching his fists to keep from ringing the bell several more times. Zed sent a message to him when after a long time standing there no one answered the door.

-Mr. Dent, your garage lights are on. Are you back?

He waited outside for another moment when the garage clicked but nothing opened. His phone buzzed.

-Hello, Hurst! Don't worry about it. My garage lights turn on automatically. I can't figure out why. I'm having an electrician take a look.

Zed exhaled.

"Okay," he whispered.

What else could it have been? Zed rebuked himself. He was a ball of nerves because of this case. His fingers worked quickly.

-Thanks for letting me know.

Zed turned and walked off the porch, glancing back and forth for anyone who saw, but no one was around per usual. He felt a little ridiculous for being worried over nothing now. What had the strange call been about?

Oh well, he'd messaged back after all. Zed supposed he was satisfied. What about the strange thing the bird had said? Perhaps Paco picked up on something the TV had said. Yeah, that was perfectly logical.

Zed shut his door softly, demoralized. He was paranoid because of his job. Living alone didn't help. Zed scanned the house with vacant eyes. He double-bolted the door and wandered back to the couch to finish his cold takeout.

This was life for the last decade. As a 36-year-old bachelor, Zed could be beaned in the head and dragged into a far corner in the dead of night, and no one would even know that he was missing until the next weekday.

Zed considered this when he made the decision to move out of his home city, which he moved back to after earning his medical degree. He had been living here for not even one year, and even the quiet suburbia was within close proximity to a violent murder.

It was quite distressing despite what one might think of his flat demeanor.

Zed could picture his mother giving him an I-told-you-so look just then. He knew there was bad everywhere in the world, but both of his parents would only use it against him as further evidence that their son had gone down the wrong path.

Zed did not blame them for being upset when he spoke at length about using an electric bone saw on the skull of his last client at the Thanksgiving dinner table. Zed became more animated as he spoke until the realization hit, far too late, that the room had become so quiet the buzzing of the lights could be heard overhead, his aunt Shelley looked a little green, and his relatives' eyes glazed over or widened depending on their temperament.

Zed let out a long sigh.

As if that weren't enough, his parents had a lot to say about his lack of a love life. His mother especially wanted grandbabies, but this was simply not in the cards as he lacked interest in anyone's heart — well, unless they were stilled, permanently.

Zed wanted to believe they would get over it eventually, but as the years passed they only pressed him further. If they brought up his job again, he would say absolutely nothing about this case.

Zed looked at the clock. It was only 6:30, too early to go to bed. He couldn't turn on the TV and let his mind wander. No matter what was on screen, the body flashed behind his eyes. Zed could handle the macabre after a person was dead.

It was the manner in which the man was taken down that haunted the back of his head. He stood and walked back down the stairs, deciding to go for a walk. It was the only thing that could clear his head.

The bird squawked loudly and knocked against his cage when Zed entered the den. The bird not only repeated words and phrases, but he also mimicked familiar sounds. Paco made a fast, clicking noise, strikingly similar to the hinge squeaking when the man would open his cage door.

The bird flew around wildly as he approached, defecating and pecking at the bars. He was always a somewhat aggressive animal when put into his care, but Paco seemed especially unsettled tonight. He could only assume the bird missed his owner dearly.

The man unfolded the blanket over the top of the cage and Paco went still.

A moment of silence passed.

"Goodnight," he squawked.

Zed gathered his keys off of the hook. His hand hovered above the door to his closet when he realized that it was cracked open. Had it been before? Zed looked down and remembered his shoes were still on.

The door creaked as he closed it all the way.

Must have had the idea to put them away when the bird startled him. He had to admit that Paco kept him company. Zed let out a small chuckle as he walked back up the stairs to unlock the deadbolts, and an impressive mimicry of a creaking door hinge rose up from the den.

Somehow in spite of all that happened that day, Zed didn't feel so alone in his house.