Adam couldn’t believe what was happening, by then he had convinced himself he was caught in a nightmare. He felt confused and light headed. He spoke in a whisper.
Adam: This can’t be happening…
Detective Crews: Oh, it’s happening alright you son-of-a-bitch.
With pain in his wrist, he realized he wasn’t dreaming and started to look around feverishly. He imagined himself looking like a bewildered animal. Detective Crews didn’t allow him to put on his coat. He only had his slippers, a shirt, and pants. They walked into the elevator and Adam felt it tighter than usual. He looked at himself and saw a smile on his face. He was startled by his reflection. He looked away, but couldn’t help but look again. He looked at himself and realized his hair was not combed and his glasses were slightly tilted. The elevator felt slower and the music sounded like an eerie song played at a horror carnival. He felt uncomfortable, and was glad when the elevator made it to the ground floor. The doors opened and he squinted with the natural light that shone through.
Adam: Crews, Tell me what’s going on. This has to be a joke…
The detective pulled him out of the elevator and walked him to his vehicle—a black Lincoln. He opened the back door and pushed his head into the car.
Adam sat chained to the table in a white room with a reflective glass. It reminded him of the true crime shows he’s watched on T.V. He had a headache and tried to remember who Tom Johnson was, and anything he did once he got home. All he remembered was the headache he had last night. He stood in the silent room thinking to himself.
Adam: There’s no way I killed this Tom Johnson. I don’t remember things, but I think I would remember if I murdered someone. No one just forgets. How could they even think it was me? I bet it’s just that son-of-a-bitch trying to get back at me.
He looked at his knuckles and realized they were slightly bruised. He stared at the discoloration; the colors green, dark purple, and yellow. He moved his fingers and his hand felt sore.
Adam: What the fuck is going on…?
Detective Crews and his partner Rodriguez entered the interrogation room. Adam could immediately sense that they were going to play good cop- bad cop. Rodriguez, Puerto Rican, in his mid-thirties with low curly hair and brown eyes, was the first to sit.
Detective Rodriguez: How you doing man? You doing alright? Can I get you anything?
Adam: No, just tell what’s going on here…
Detective Crews opened a blue file he had in his hands and removed a picture. He threw it on the table, and it made Adam sick. The victim had his nose cut off and a silk scarf was stuffed in his mouth. His eyes were hanging from its nerve and his fingers were cut off. The picture was very gruesome. Adam felt uneasy.
Detective Crews: Man, I didn’t think you were such a sick motherfucker.
Adam: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen this man.
Detective Rodriguez: Take a good look at him.
He showed him a picture of Tom; before the mutilation. He had ash brown hair and hazel eyes. His nose is what balanced his face.
Adam: I don’t know who he is.
Detective Crews: So how do you explain your wallet at the crime scene?
Adam stood silent and paralyzed from shock.
Detective Crews: You better think long and hard. You are facing a life sentence with no chance of parole.
Detective Crews: Are you a jealous man Adam?
Adam: What the fuck are you talking about?!
Detective Crews: This man right here (tapping the picture with his finger) is Claire’s, your assistant, boyfriend.
Adam felt so confused and his head pounded harder.
Adam: I don’t know him! I don’t know how my fucking wallet was found near—
Detective Crews: What are you, a fucking copycat? Stuffing silk down his throat; you didn’t even use the right color. You want to be like him, like the Red Silk killer?
Rodriguez joined in
Detective Rodriguez: Maybe he is.
Detective Crews: Na. He’s too much of a pussy to be walking around killing women. He would have to be professional in picking women up, and this son-of-a-bitch right here is a fucking pussy.
Adam slammed the table.
Adam: Shut the fuck up! You fucking douche bag! If you actually did some police work, you would actually see it wasn’t me! Someone has to be setting me up!
He remembered seeing Samantha before she died, but he promised himself he would never tell Crews. Especially now, all he would need was for Crews to pin Samantha’s murder on him too.
Detective Rodriguez: Who’s setting you up?
Detective Crews: You get angry a lot Adam?
Adam: Spare me the therapy babble.
Detective Crews: (Looks at Rodriguez) Doesn’t it seem he gets angry a lot? (Looks at Adam) What he do to make you destroy him? You fucking Claire?
Detective Crews: Are you fucking Claire?
A tall man in a gray suit with a briefcase walked in. His face was full and seemed as if the first button of his shirt was choking him.
Detective Crews: Can we help you?
Lawyer: I will be representing Mr. Moore now.
Adam looked to the door and saw Claire standing with her red hair down. Her green parka was open and he could see a soft peach embroidered sweater. She looked worried and as if she hadn’t slept.
Lawyer: I have a written statement from Claire Evans providing an alibi for Mr. Moore, and explaining how Mr. Moore’s wallet was found on the victim Tom Johnson.
Detective Crews took the paper and read it in disbelief. Adam felt relieved, but more confused on how Claire could provide an alibi for him. He saw Claire biting her nails and knew she was nervous.
Detective Crews looked at the lawyer and looked at Rodriguez.
Detective Crews: Let him go.
Detective Rodriguez: You kidding me bro!?
Detective Crews: Just let him go!
Rodriguez un-cuffed him from the table and Adam massaged his wrist. He stood up and walked towards Claire, unsure of what to do, so he tapped her on her shoulder.
Claire: You okay Adam?
He walked out the door and Crews grabbed onto Claire’s arm.
Detective Crews: If I find out you’re covering for him Claire. I’m going to arrest you myself for obstruction of justice and you (pointing to Adam) I’m going to destroy you.
Claire: Go to Black Capricorn then! (pulls her arm away)
They sat in her car and she pulled a blanket from the backseat for him.
Claire: It’s just fucking ridiculous that he didn’t even let you get dressed.
She looked at him sitting quietly and could tell he was confused. She felt jittery and stressed.
Claire: You sure you’re alright?
Adam: No Claire, I’m not. I don’t remember anything!
Claire: Nothing? Not even…(sigh)
Adam: Not even what? Remember what?
Claire: Never mind.
Adam: What did you tell them that got me off the hook?!
She could tell he was starting to have a panic attack with the way he gestured.
Adam: What if I did kill him? I don’t remember…
Claire: You didn’t.
Adam: How do you know?! What if I killed Samantha and I can’t remember that either?!
Adam: (gasping for air) I… can’t…
Claire: Adam stop! You didn’t kill Tom! (she held his face)
She watched him speak breathlessly
Adam: How do you know Claire?! How do you know I am not a monster?!
Claire: Because I killed him.
Copyright 2015 @enicolaspena