Chapter 13

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Time had gone slower than it ever had before. What felt like days on end were in reality only a couple of hours. Andy waited patiently despite the overwhelming bewilderment that grew with each passing moment. Bubbles formed in his stomach and it gave him a belly ache. Accompanied by the lack of sleep and confusion, he had no control over his own body. He slept in a cell most of the day along with a few other people. He didn't belong there among the thieves and small-time criminals of the town. They sat in silence staring at him, a hint of fear flashing over their face from time to time. How ironic, he would think, that they would be scared of him. Who was he to anyone? It may have been the fact that he was the only one of them to still have their hands cuffed behind their back. One of the men stayed standing, keeping a watchful eye on every sniffle, cough or shift in breathing pattern Andy had made. Disturbed at first, he eventually found a way to ignore it completely.

After hours of silence among the other prisoners, he lowered his head to his chest while sitting on a dingy old bench and fell into a light sleep. The nap was short-lived. What felt like moments later, he was being hauled from the cell by a police officer. He noticed on the way out that some new people were staying in the holding space, and some had left. He had been asleep a lot longer than he had realized.

He was dragged to an interrogation room despite not putting up much of a fight. There wasn't much in the room other than a table, two chairs and a large mirror along the back of the space. On one of the chairs sat Detective Miller with a thermos and his infamous notepad. As he was seated across from him by the guard, the detective didn't seem to take much notice. He was scrawling once again on the small pieces of paper. The movements were jagged and harsh, the movements of a man under a lot of stress. About five minutes had gone by in absolute silence before he finally looked up from the notepad.

Andy was slightly taken aback by the man's appearance. His eyes were bloodshot and enlarged by the pulled-back skin around them. He looked thin and fragile. His lips protruded slightly and his skin was a sickly mix of green and blue. Still, he smiled at him. It looked more aggressive than what it was probably meant to.

"So," the detective started. He unscrewed the lid of the thermos and took a swig from it. It was definitely coffee, but also part alcohol. Living with Vin, he could tell it was some kind of whiskey.

"I've heard you've been a naughty boy, Andy. Care to explain yourself, hmm?" he said putting the cap back on the thermos and leaning back in his chair. He couldn't tell if he was trying to be smug or trying not to get over-worked. He looked at the ground, still bound by the cuffs.

"Surely you know why you're here. I told you when I first arrested you."

"You did," he spoke up for the first time in a very long time. "I guess I just don't understand." Brian tsked in disbelief. The words he uttered ran through his mind.

Andy Brooks, you're under arrest for the suspected abduction and murder of multiple women, and the assault of another.

How could that be? It didn't take a genius to figure out which murdered women he was referring to. He was at a loss to who the assaulted woman was, though. There was no one he had come into contact with that he had hurt. The only person he could think of was the cashier at the grocery store who had first attacked him. Even still, he would have remembered if he had ever laid a hand on her.

"Can you explain everything to me? Please? I don't think I'm meant to be here." he bent forward and pleaded. The detective threw down multiple files onto the desk.

"Well my dear saboteur, as it turns out, you were the main suspect for the murders all along. You told me about this"Earl" character," he said making quotations with his fingers.

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