The Crime Writer

I palmed sweat off my brow. The hot overheads were working. "I might have had an intruder two nights ago. I think someone broke in when I was sleeping, cut my foot."

"Sure thing," said Delveckio. "Easter Bunny maybe?"

I glared at him. "Not in January. I was thinking tardy elf."

"Why didn't you call the police?" Kaden asked.

"You guys haven't exactly been sympathetic."

"And this… mystery assailant cut you and you slept through it?"

"I was really out of it. My first night home. I woke up just after, I think. Guy might've even still been in the house, but then I wasn't sure "

Kaden placed a thick hand on my chest and shoved me so I fell back into the chair. He kicked the table so it slid over and stopped right in front of me. I was now seated at the interrogation table. Neat trick.

"Where were you last night between ten-thirty and two A.M.?"

Last night?

"Okay," I said, struggling to keep up and failing. "Okay."

Delveckio handed me my coffee, an oddly civil gesture, despite his motivation.

"Getting smarter, aren't you?" Kaden said. "Moved the body this time. Washed it down with a bleach solution."

I believe that anyone is capable of anything.

I felt a flutter-beat of panic. "Is it April? Is she all right?"

They stared at me, arms crossed, spread stances, Delveckio a skinnier version of the big guy.

"Tell me she's okay," I said. "You already dragged me here. No need to add insult to injury."

Delveckio reached over and cuffed my head. Openhanded but hard. "You're a piece of shit," he said. "That's insult to injury."

My chest felt tight. I couldn't move enough air through it. "Just tell me this isn't about April."

Kaden set down a crime-scene photo on the table in front of me. I shuddered so hard that coffee spilled over the Styrofoam lip and scalded my knuckles. Woman on a coroner's slab, familiar deep gash in the pit of the stomach. But not April.

A great hope fell over me like a blanket of light. Two bodies, same MO. If I hadn't killed this woman, I likely hadn't killed Genevieve. My name could be cleared. My relieved exhale was cut short by a renewed understanding of my situation. Interrogation room. Parker Center. Logically, the prime suspect.

"I didn't do this. No way. You think I… what? Slipped while stabbing her in the stomach and cut my bare foot?"

"You undressed to make sure you didn't get any spatter on your clothes," Delveckio said. "Manipulating the body, holding the knife, mistakes happen."

"Come on. That's hardly concrete evidence."

"Oh, you want evidence?" Kaden asked.

Here we go again. Deja fucking vu.

"We found a plastic drop cloth in your trash can. Like for, say, the trunk of your car."

My breath left me in a silent cough. I didn't know anything except to keep fighting. Blindly. And take it on faith that I wasn't a murderer, let alone twice over.

"Why would I leave it in my own trash can?" I said.

"You wouldn't," Delveckio said, "You burned it first. But you missed an edge. And it's sporting residue matching the adhesive from the electrical tape binding her wrists."

I couldn't manage a response.

Kaden laughed at my stunned expression, though there was no amusement in his eyes. "Framed again, huh? One-armed man on the grassy knoll?"

"I didn't do this," I said quietly.

"That's odd, because the killer duplicated every specific. The precise angle of the stab wound. The positioning of the body. The way the head was turned, hair down over the right eye. Not exactly the level of detail we put out for the six o'clock news."

My thoughts bled one into the next.

"Here's the kicker," Kaden continued. "That little piece of unburnt plastic drop cloth we found in your trash can? It had some more surprises for us. The victim's blood. Your blood. And as for your bleach bath? Missed a few spots. Your hair under a fingernail. Traces of your blood on the pad of her foot."

I cannot have done this. It's impossible that I did this last night.

"As far as we can determine, there is only one connection between the victims," Kaden said. "And that's you."

I pointed at the body in the photo. "I don't know who that woman is. Why would I kill her?"

"You're trying to tell us you didn't do this, and you've spent the thirty-six hours since your release digging around in the mud of the case you were just acquitted for? Stalking Katherine Harriman. Trying to get ahold of the key criminalist from the investigation. You're giving new meaning to returning to the scene of the crime."

He nodded at Delveckio, who walked to the corner, reached up, and unplugged the security camera pointing down at us. Kaden set both hands on the lip of the table, leaning over so his face was a few feet from mine. He shoved until the ledge of wood struck my lower ribs and sent me and my chair skidding back with it. The table hit the walls on either side of me, trapping me in the corner. "Decent-sized fella like yourself might be feeling a touch cramped right about now. Get used to it. Because that's your cell size for the rest of your life."