Moira
Crane is an English teacher at the high school. Shortly after her
phone is stolen, she finds herself embroiled in a nightmarish
reality. She's been accused of murdering her five close friends,
other teachers with whom she worked. Unfortunately, the detective in
charge of the case has been dating Moira.
His
boss, Lieutenant Ritchie joined Rhys in the hallway. "My
office."
Rhys
followed his lieutenant to the large, glassed in room. Ritchie closed
the vertical blinds before rounding on his detective.
"You'll
recuse yourself immediately, Detective Fletcher."
"I
can do this, sir. This is my case."
"Now
it's someone else's. If you're in charge, the DA can kiss it goodbye.
Chain of evidence is tainted. You don't want me to remove you. That
would get ugly."
"I
didn't do anything wrong."
"You're
shtupping the prime suspect in this case."
"We're
not having sex, sir. And when I asked her out, she was a victim, not
a suspect. Her only crime was getting involved with Nestor Montoya. I
wouldn't be surprised if he's behind all this."
"Why?"
"To
get back at Moira for leaving him."
"You
really think he's that petty?"
"Have
you read the jacket on Montoya? He's fucking crazy. I don't mean
amusingly eccentric like my Great Uncle Boyd who thinks he's Santa
Claus. I'm talking bat-shit crazy—violently so. I have to stay on
this, Lieutenant."
"Make
me a good case, Rhys."
"To
protect Moira from Nestor Montoya."
"Other
people work in this department, son," Ritchie said gently.
"They
don't have my unique background, sir."
There
was a long pause. Rhys stood quietly, waiting. He watched the
lieutenant's face go through emotional jumping jacks.
"A
defense lawyer could rip you to shreds based on the kiss and the
dancing alone. Any evidence would have to be irrefutable so a judge
can't throw it out."
"Then
we'd better get irrefutable evidence, sir."
"I'll
let the interview continue. But I withhold the right to jerk a knot
in your ass at any time."
"Yes,
sir. I respectfully request that additional security be added to the
station."
"Why?"
Ritchie's eyes narrowed.
"Because
I think Montoya is crazy, arrogant and stupid enough to come at us.
At least here we can see him coming."
The
lieutenant leaned over the over the desk as he eyed his detective.
"Are you telling me what I think you are?"
Fletcher's
chin came up his face guarded. "Depends on what you think—sir."
"You
arrested that girl to protect her. You don't think she's guilty, you
think Montoya's after her. Why didn't you just put her under our
protection?"
"I
think further interrogation will reveal that, sir."
"Son,
you're crazier than Mazie. Fine, you talk to her. But if you haven't
noticed, boy, that girl hates your guts."
"Better
that than dead," Rhys mumbled.
©
2015 Dellani Oakes
No comments:
Post a Comment