13
BK 83%
Before I could process what was happening, Vanessa followed the officers and suspects
into the interrogation room.
The scene inside was tense. The suspects slumped in their seats, wearing the same cocky expressions I’d seen on DeAndre “Big Dee” Fulton when he was brought in.
“What victim? We don’t know anything about a victim,” one of them said lazily.
“Yeah, we’ve been keeping our noses clean. You can’t just make stuff up and pin it on us,
another smirks.
Detective Boone slammed his palm onto the table, making them flinch.
“The surveillance footage has your faces all over it. You’re not getting away with this!”
Their smugness faltered momentarily, but one quickly recovered, rolling his eyes.
“Footage? Let’s see it, then. Show us what you’ve got.”
“Yeah, for all we know, you’re bluffing,” another sneered. “Trying to scare us into confessing?”
“You think you can slap us with fake charges? We’re with Big Dee! You might want to think twice before pulling something like that,” a third warned, his tone dripping with mock confidence.
Boone didn’t take the bait. Instead, he pulled a USB drive and plugged it into the
projector
22:21 Thu, Mar 13
<
projector.
The screen lit up with enhanced footage of the night in the alley. Every detail was crystal clear–the rain, the confrontation, and, most importantly, the suspects‘ faces.
The moment the video played, all four men went pale.
One of them broke first.
“Okay, fine! We jumped him and roughed him up. Gave him a little stab, sure. But that’s it!
We didn’t kill him!”
Their sudden confession was a calculated move. Assault and injury were far lesser charges than premeditated murder.
I clenched my fists in frustration. They were trying to manipulate the system. Everyone knew I’d been brutally killed, but if they convinced the cops they didn’t finish the job, they’d
only serve time for assault.
Boone wasn’t buying it.
“Bullshit! This was cold–blooded murder, and you know it!”
The ringleader smirked, leaning back in his chair.
“Easy, old man. You have no proof of that. All your little video shows is us giving the guy
a beating and dragging him off. We dumped him in some quiet spot and left. What happened after that? Not our problem.”
The others nodded, smugness returning as they stuck to their story.
Vanessa’s voice cut through the room, cold and sharp.
“You know what you did. Doesn’t taking responsibility for your actions mean anything to you? Did your parents never teach you that?”
Her words made them pause for a second, but then they laughed.
“Parents? Lady, we don’t have any parents! They ditched us ages ago. You think they give
a damn what we do?”
One of them leaned forward, sneering.
“Hey, Auntie, where you from? Talking like you’re from some perfect family or something. You’re killing me here!”
They looked Vanessa up and down, their eyes filled with leering disdain.
Boone’s face darkened.
“Enough! If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Quit playing games.”
The ringleader whispered something to the others, and they all started grinning. Finally,
he turned his attention back to Vanessa.
“Oh, it’s all clicking now. No wonder you look so familiar.”
His slimy tone made my stomach churn.
What were they planning to say? Could they have recognized her?
I remembered then–that night, I called her. My photo was saved on her phone. Those people with an addiction must’ve seen it.
Panic set in. If they said what I feared, they would, the truth would unravel, and Vanessa
would have to face the horror of what happened.
Boone’s sharp gaze swept over the group.
“What are you getting at? Do you know her?”
The ringleader chuckled darkly.
“Oh, yeah. We know her. While dealing with that kid that night, he called this lady for help. Guess what? She picked up! They even talked for a bit. Surprised you didn’t hear about it.”
I closed my eyes in despair. It was true. They’d seen her picture and heard her voice. There was no denying it now.
“What?!”
The revelation stunned everyone. Even Boone, usually unshakable, whipped his head. toward Vanessa before quickly regaining his composure.
Vanessa stood frozen, her face a mask of disbelief and pain.
The ringleader leaned back, his grin widening
“Yeah. What kind of mom doesn’t help her kid when he’s in trouble? Kinda cold, don’t you
think?”
The room fell into a tense silence, thick with unspoken accusations and raw emotion.
Boone’s jaw tightened as he turned back to the suspects, his tone deadly calm.
