by Levi Fuller
“No.”
“Then you have no way to verify that you were in fact home at the time you state?”
Violet froze, her blood going cold. She knew that she had become a top suspect but this questioning seemed to be coming from a guilty until proven innocent position.
“We have statements here,” the female detective chipped in as her partner held Violet locked in a hard stare, “from your neighbors. Two of the three were home at the time you mention and none recall hearing your car, the buzzer for the main door or anything else to suggest that you were home. Do you have any reason why that might be the case?”
Violet cut her eyes to the other woman and swallowed a few profanities.
“No.”
“When did you discover that Ms Luton was dead?”
A shard of pain twisted in her heart, but Violet met the male detective's gaze steadily as his question came right on the heels of her previous answer. She took a steadying breath. “When we were called in to the scene.”
“You mean to say that your cousin, or any of the other women from the party hadn't contacted you with questions?”
“That's not what you asked.” Violet resisted the urge to stand and pace. “I had eleven missed calls when I woke up. My cousin was frantic. There were messages from a couple of Jane's friends too. I knew then that she was missing. You asked when I knew she was dead.” She pushed the terrible word through her throat and felt her eyes sting.
“From our notes here you had previous knowledge about Ms. Luton's fear of the woods.”
“Christ. I was there! When we were first graders. I'm the one who got lost with her. How could I not know?”
“In your opinion would she have gone to the woods on her own?”
“What kind of a question is that? Of course she didn't go alone. She was terrified of the woods. She would never have gone there willingly.”
“There is no indication of a struggle of that kind.”
“Then I'd say she was drugged.”
“Or perhaps someone she trusted lured her there.”
“I didn't kill my friend!”
They watched her in silence as she struggled with burning eyes, their blunt accusation searing the rift in her heart. Then they pulled out another piece of paper and an evidence bag.
“This is a warrant to search your phone. Please read it and then place your phone in the bag.”
Violet's eyes snapped over to Greg, where he still rested against the far wall. His face was blank, his eyes locked on the door.
“This is a waste of time! I didn't kill Jane! She was my closest friend, I would never—”
Violet snapped her mouth shut as the tears threatened to break loose of her control. She yanked her phone out of her jeans and shoved it into the plastic bag without looking at the warrant. She'd handed out more than one in her life and knew what it would say.
They took the bag back in silence and then pulled out another official paper.
As it unfolded, she saw it was a warrant to search her house.
“This is a joke! What is the matter with you people! I didn't do this! Every minute you spend on me you give the real murderer more time to cover their tracks!”
“Whether or not you agree, Ms Turner, your house will be searched today. Hand over your keys, or we will use whatever methods necessary to gain entry.”
Violet breathed out a string of profanities and denials.
“Your lack of cooperation is duly noted.”
“Lack of cooperation?” she breathed, digging her nails into her palms. “I have answered all of your pointless questions. My friend is dead. You—”
Violet stood up abruptly and moved away from the table, turning her back on the detectives from Montgomery.
“We will probably need to call you in again after we have gone through any evidence found in your house. In the meantime—”
Violet spun on her heel and marched back to the table, placing her palms against it she got her face right into the male detective's personal space.
“Don't bother ordering me to stay. I will. I'll wait right here, because you won't find anything. I didn't do this. You had better be this thorough when you are not wasting time and tracking the actual perp.”
The detectives exchanged a glance that made her want to cry and punch them in equal measure.
“I have no need to ask you to stay, Ms Turner, I know that you are not going anywhere. Detective Orlo?”
Greg pushed himself off the wall and nodded, without even glancing in her direction. That look told her she was missing something.
Violet watched them leave to go and ransack her apartment then turned on Greg.
“What the hell was that about?”
In answer, Harry came into the room, exchanged a glance with his twin, then began reading off a sheet. Violet felt as if the floor was sliding out from under her feet.
“Detective Violet Turner, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain—”
“What are the charges?” she managed as Greg came towards her with a pair of handcuffs.
Greg sized her up then sighed. “Assault, stealing evidence of an ongoing case and attempting to tamper with it.”
Violet collapsed back in the chair. “ bastard.”
Greg heaved another sigh. “Please stand.”
Violet stood on autopilot and felt the cold metal of the cuffs secure her wrists. No wonder the detectives from Montgomery were so cold. Her friend was dead and one of the last people to see her alive had no alibi, intimate knowledge of her and had been accused by a trusted professional of trying to mess with the case.
How did my life get like this?
They reached the small room near the back of the building. It held three separate detention cells.
“Look, Violet, no one here actually believes that you had anything to do with Jane, but we can't ignore the facts. You know how this works, you know we have to follow every lead no matter how unlikely.”
Violet stilled as he removed her cuffs. They were searching her house. Because of a new lead. She felt herself begin to smile.
God bless you Dhillan, you found something!
“I'll go and get you something to eat from the kitchen. Don't do anything foolish, please.”
“Sure.” Violet said, still smiling, even as the cell door locked behind her. The weight bearing down on her felt a little lighter, as if Dhillan's strong arms were there to help her carry it. If there was physical evidence then there was hope.
9
Dhillan entered Violet's apartment and couldn't stifle the feeling of guilt. His team was here with orders to search the place for any evidence linking her to Jane's murder.
It's ridiculous. Jane was her friend. Violet would never do anything like this.
“Personal feelings aside, Dr Chais.”
Dhillan looked over at Mark, where he stood in the kitchenette, ready to supervise that area. The two detectives from Montgomery were spaced out through the house.
He turned to his team. “You have all been briefed on the evidence we are looking for. I want this done thoroughly and professionally. Get to work.”
A few mumbled yes and his team spread out.
“The bedroom is yours,” Mark said, extending a hand toward a door across from the living room.
Taking a deep breath, Dhillan got to work. In order to help Violet, he had to pretend he didn't know her. He had to search through her things in a way that would give the watching detectives no grounds to order this done again with a separate team, no grounds to blacken her name any further.
He turned to his intern and nodded her towards the wardrobe while he turned to the night stand.
“If you find a diary or journal, that will need to be bagged.”
Dhillan barely glanced up at the female detective, but gave a small nod. Although he couldn't deny having wanted to come to this very room this past Sunday, when after they'd returned from w
alking along the river, she had invited him up for coffee, this was definitely not how that was meant to go. He put aside a couple of fantasy novels and a little ceramic lotus. The rest of the draw was filled with art supplies. Paints, pencils, pastels. He felt the corner of his mouth tilt.
I wonder what kind of art she makes? Or is it something she wants to do but never gets around to doing?
“Dr Chais?”
Dhillan turned around to face his intern and felt his heart constrict. In her hands was a black long coat, made from a tough, tight weave. At a glance, it matched the sample in evidence perfectly.
“Bag it,” he managed, feeling the eyes of the detective behind him boring into his back. He'd take it back to the lab and compare it to the sample under a microscope. That would be the only way to prove that it wasn’t the same.
****
It had been ten minutes since Detective Orlo had left me to go and assist the team. The timing couldn't have been better. I wait outside my door, head tilted as footsteps approach. I watch Jason approach his office, a smug smile on his face. He gives me a dismissive nod and turns to his door, opposite mine.
“Tell me, Dr Reid, what is it that you hope to achieve by falsely accusing Violet?”
He turns his head slightly, just enough to let me see the cocky look on his face. “Falsely? You do know, Dr Mavros, that I suffered a broken nose and one cracked rib at her hands, do you not?”
I smile, a predator's smile with no warmth in it. I see his eyes widen as instinct tells him to fight or flee.
“I know. Of course, I also know that it was well deserved.” He turns to face me fully, hands clenched into fists. I continue before he can begin whatever petulant tirade I can see brewing in his mind. “But I was referring to the charges of her tampering in the Luton case.”
His smug smile reappears and the instinctual fear dims. “I suppose you don't blame her, but I can assure you that she did exactly as I said. Maybe the Montgomery detectives are right, maybe she did kill her friend.”
His eyes search my face for the reaction he had hoped to achieve with his callous words, but they find nothing but an apex predator's self-assured calm.
“Lying to me won't help.”
He sneers in my direction, even as his eyes sweep the hall, half-hoping for intervention.
I tilt my head to the side. “I'll ask once more, as I am genuinely curious. What did you hope to achieve?”
He tries to stare me down and covers his failure by turning back to his door. “I don't have time for this bullshit, Alma. I have work to do.”
“I see. You just wanted to prove that rejecting you has consequences.” He freezes, his hand on the keypad beside his door. “But why did you use her friend's death to prove that? It seems you must have wanted something more.”
“I did not do anything of the sort,” he bites out, his voice tense. “Whatever Violet told you is a lie.”
I smile. He finally fell into my trap. I know I shouldn't be playing with him. The people I work with are my alibi, my safety net, a convenient early warning system to a threat to my secret life. Still, people like him piss me off, people who try to play the part of a predator when they don't have what it takes. And I am human. This is too perfect an opportunity to pass up.
“She didn't tell me. You did.”
He spins to face me again, face contorted, part confusion, part fear. None of his words are coherent.
I let my smile fade, the predator's edge in my eyes more obvious. “Now you are going to tell Mark.”
“I'm not going anywhere. I have already given in my statement.”
“Oh, your physical presence is not required.”
“What the hell does that mean? Alma? Alma!”
I keep walking down the hall, heading for the detective's side of the Hut. The team just got back from searching Violet's house. From behind me, I hear him curse again and buzz himself into his office. I imagine the sound of drawers being wrenched open, their contents flung around the room in a desperate search for what was now in my pocket. I still couldn't fully believe that he had recorded his encounter in the Freezer. The man was a total idiot.
Yet with Violet exonerated, she'll be back to digging, back to pushing Dhillan to look deeper and closer at everything to do with Jane's case. My mind echoes a warning.
Maybe I should have failed to find anything, let Jason go on with his petty revenge fantasy.
But Mark had ordered me to tell him what I thought of the Violet-Jason issue. My standing here is built on things like this. I had to do it right. My conclusions led to the command to search his office for proof, with a detective in tow. Besides, if I save Violet, she will draw me in to her inner circle. That is the natural human response. And the closer I am to her, the better I will be able to ascertain the level of threat she may or may not possess.
****
“What do you mean I can't use my own lab?” Dhillan said, feeling his anger rise again as he was stopped. All he wanted to do now was get that coat under a microscope to prove that it wasn't the same.
“That is not what I said, Dr Chais. However, your findings will need to be corroborated by our own labs.”
Dhillan took a deep breath in through his nose, then let it out. “I understand. What do you need?”
“A sample of each piece of evidence your team bagged and the information of all evidence gathered at the crime scene.”
“The information from the crime scene was already sent.” Dhillan nodded to his intern who began leading the way to the lab. “My team will prepare your samples.”
“I will come with you. Your integrity is not being questioned, but your, ah, sympathies towards Ms Turner are well known. For your sake and hers, I will be present to testify that all was done correctly.”
Dhillan glanced over at Mark, who gave him a helpless grimace. “I see. Follow me, then, but keep out of our way while we are busy.”
The Montgomery detective chuckled. “As you say, Dr Chais.”
****
I step aside as the forensics team come through, toting more evidence bags than I had expected. Dhillan meets my eyes as he passes by. They're tight, his entire, mammoth frame ridged. I watch them walk away and shake my head. I have never truly been able to see why he doesn't like me. Maybe he doesn't know it, himself.
“Dr Mavros.”
Mark is leaning in the doorway, mopping his brow with a handkerchief. He looks worried.
What did they find?
“Do you have any good news?”
I smile, a fake smile for me, but it will look genuine enough to him. It is one I have spent hours practicing. One that conveys friendship and warmth. “I do, Detective Decleor.”
Detective Harry Orlo steps away from his brother as he spots me too. “Ah, Dr Mavros, good timing.”
I pull the bagged recorder from my pocket.
Mark's eyes go wide. “You were right? He had recorded the encounter?”
I smother a laugh and just shrug. “People like him need to relive their encounters. This would have functioned like a trophy of sorts.”
“You make him sound like a serial killer.” Harry shakes his head as Mark accepts the bag.
“Not all serial killers take trophies, Detective Orlo.”
He meets my eyes briefly then turns to Mark. “If you no longer need me, I will help my brother prepare everything for the Montgomery detectives to leave.”
Both Mark and I have to smother a laugh at his emphasis on the word 'leave'.
Mark gives him a nod and turns back to me. “Thank you, Alma. Violet needs this right now.”
I place my hand on his shoulder, mimicking behavior that I have seen others do. “It will be alright, Mark. Violet didn't kill Jane Luton.”
He gives me a small smile, encouraged by the utter certainty in my voice. “I know. Besides, your analysis puts us on the trail of a young male and your instincts are always good.” He shakes the evidence bag for go
od measure. “I'm going to get this going. Violet has already been in detention longer than necessary.”
I nod my encouragement and let my hand fall, wondering how humans are able to blind themselves so well. My instincts, huh? As long as they trusted me like this, and I didn't make any more impulsive kills, then they would never know that the one they hunted was right in their midst.
****
“I can leave?” Violet stood up from the cot, trying to contain her reaction until she was sure. “Did Jason drop the charges?”
She couldn't believe that he would, but why else would they free her?
Mark gave her an incredulous look. “Is that likely?”
“Then, how? If I was under investigation, it wouldn't resolved in less than a day.”
Mark chuckled. “You can thank Dr Mavros for that.”
“Alma?”
“Yes.” He ran a hand through his graying hair and sighed. “I called her in on it. I asked her to profile Jason and you, to play out your statements and, well, do what she does best.”
“So she agreed with me. That still doesn't remove his claims.”
“No. But she also decided that someone like Jason would have kept some sort of record or memento of the event, as he would have seen it as a victory or something.” Mark shakes his head. “Jesus, Violet. I don't know all that psychological mumbo jumbo. Isn't it enough that you are free?”
Violet laughed. “Yes. Thanks Mark. Really, thank you.”
“You should thank Alma.”
“I will.”
Violet felt her grin fade as they left the detention facilities and re-entered the main corridor.
Mark glanced over at her. “Don't worry. That will pass too.”
She nodded. “Am I still suspended?”
He gave her a stern look. “Of course. No matter the reason, you attacked an unarmed man, a member of this team, no less.”
She gritted her teeth, but nodded again. It was certainly a failure of the system that words were not considered weapons. His attack had left her wounded and bleeding just as surely as hers had.
