Wanderlust

22- The Questioning

“Hello, Charlotte.”

I looked up to see a man walking into the room that I was locked in. It was about time, I had been sitting in that stupid room forever just waiting and bored and alone and worrying about Thomas.

“I’m Detective Snyder, my partner will be in soon.” He informed me, adjusting his suit jacket before sitting down in one of the old seats on the other side of the table from me in the small room. “I’m just here to ask you a few questions.”

“You can ask me all you want but I’m not telling you anything.” I said quietly. I was already aggravated at the burning sensation in my midsection from that damn baton, even though a medic had wrapped it up in some large bandage, but then they added to that this muggy room for at least an hour, I just wasn’t in the mood at all to deal with anybody.

“Okay, well let’s just talk then.” He suggested. “I won’t ask any questions, but tell me what happened to you last Friday.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the buff man in front of me, letting him know that I wasn’t going to say a word, not until my dad got there. I’ve watched crime shows, thank you very much, and I know that I need a lawyer before I speak at all.

“This is going to go a lot easier for you if you speak up, Charlotte.” The detective told me with a long sigh. I don’t think he liked me very much, which is stupid because he should love me. If people didn’t get arrested, then he wouldn’t have a job. So, really, I’m the reason that he has a job. He should be thankful. Clearly, that wasn’t the case at all.

“My dad’s a lawyer, I know my rights, jerk face.” I barked angrily.

“I’m trying to help you here.” The man told me with what he was hoping would be a soothing I’m-on-your-side kind of smile.

“No, you’re trying to hurt Thomas.” I said with my arms crossed as I leaned back in the rather uncomfortable chair inside of the interrogation room. Because I was so incredibly crabby, needless to say that I was a little less than friendly with the guy. The room was kind of dark with a metal table and three metal chairs, the detective was sitting on one and I was on the other with an empty chair beside me. He had a manila folder in front of him that he told me was Thomas’s folder of offenses and such.

“You do know that Thomas Jackals is a murderer, right?”

I nodded curtly. “Yes, I’m aware.”

The detective opened the folder and then flipped out a piece of paper with a photo on it. It was a man lying on his stomach in a mess of dirt, hay, and grass and there was a puddle of blood by his head and his arm looked broken. It was hard to look at, I’m not going to lie, but it was easy to assume that it was that Adams guy that Thomas told me about. I only glanced at it briefly before looking away quickly. “This is what your friend has done, look at it.”

“Boyfriend.” I corrected, pushing the paper away from me. “He’s my boyfriend and this is harassment, so put your demented porn away until my daddy gets here or I’m pretty sure I can sue or something.”

Snyder glared at me as he slid the photo back into the folder. He may not have liked me, but I already hated him for trying to turn me against Thomas. It wasn’t going to happen. “Do you know how much jail time you’re facing right now?” He asked.

“Jim, stop harassing my client.” The familiar, comforting voice of my father echoed into the room as the door opened and he started striding in.

“Daddy!” I cheered, running over to him and leaping into his arms, careful of my still-sore stomach.

He hugged me back and then pulled away with a kiss to my forehead and then led us back over to the two metal chairs, but he didn’t sit down. Snyder stood up and they shook hands before they both sat down.