Post by Anna Craven on Dec 19, 2020 16:15:07 GMT -7
She could still see the shapes her breath made in the bitter air. She could still see the red and blue lights flashing against the tint of the windows and the body of her sedan. She could still feel the numbness in her fingers even though she’d been in a patrol car first, and now here in this sickly yellow interview room. She stared into the dark cup of coffee they’d provided her and tried to warm her bones.
“I know you already went over this with the officer who responded, but could you tell me the story again,” the detective spoke, his voice was brusque. It twanged in an achingly familiar way.
Anna took a sip of the burnt coffee--police stations always had burnt coffee--and nodded. She knew what he wanted, though. She knew that Detective Higgins was looking for any inconsistencies in her story. She couldn’t fault him, but she also couldn’t give him what he wanted.
“I’d been driving from Gotham City in New Jersey to Arlen, Georgia,” she started just as she’d done with the officer at the scene. “The drive’s about thirteen hours, give or take because of traffic. I really thought I’d be able to get there tonight.” She lifted her eyes to Higgins, but knew his answer. There’d be no getting back home tonight.
“We’ll let you call your family and we’ll find you a room in town for the night,” yes, the gentle reassurance even as she was held suspect for the night’s discovery. She lowered her gaze and sighed, but nodded. “I don’t think I could drive after what happened anyway. Thanks.” She held the styrofoam cup tighter. At least Christmas was still a few days away. “I was making good time, probably going a little above the speed limit.” She tried to smile and laugh, but the sound choked. She swallowed. “Oh, God,” she shivered and tears pricked her eyes.
Higgins reached over to her arm and gave it a light squeeze.
“Just take a deep breath.” She tried, felt it catch, but tried again. She was close to tears and she was hyperventilating. She shut her eyes. “I’d only pulled off the road because I wanted to take a short break. I didn’t think anyone would come along on that back road. I thought I could take a quick nap.” She struggled to get the words out. “I thought it was a scarecrow in the field when I first looked, but something seemed off.”
She moved her hands, which were shaking from around the cup. “So I walked out into the field and then I...I saw…” She clamped her mouth shut around the scream. “He was just strung up on the post.”
Again his hand reached out, but she flinched. He looked down at the notepad he’d been dictating on. “You don’t know him?”
She shook her head violently.
What she didn’t say was how she’d lost hours in her drive. She didn’t remember pulling up to the field. She didn’t even remember stepping foot into it. What she remembered was waking up staring up at the man hung on that post like a scarecrow. His eyes stared down at her. He was tied there with barbed wire. She didn’t know who did it. Had she?
She was so cold too. So cold.
It was happening again.
“I know you already went over this with the officer who responded, but could you tell me the story again,” the detective spoke, his voice was brusque. It twanged in an achingly familiar way.
Anna took a sip of the burnt coffee--police stations always had burnt coffee--and nodded. She knew what he wanted, though. She knew that Detective Higgins was looking for any inconsistencies in her story. She couldn’t fault him, but she also couldn’t give him what he wanted.
“I’d been driving from Gotham City in New Jersey to Arlen, Georgia,” she started just as she’d done with the officer at the scene. “The drive’s about thirteen hours, give or take because of traffic. I really thought I’d be able to get there tonight.” She lifted her eyes to Higgins, but knew his answer. There’d be no getting back home tonight.
“We’ll let you call your family and we’ll find you a room in town for the night,” yes, the gentle reassurance even as she was held suspect for the night’s discovery. She lowered her gaze and sighed, but nodded. “I don’t think I could drive after what happened anyway. Thanks.” She held the styrofoam cup tighter. At least Christmas was still a few days away. “I was making good time, probably going a little above the speed limit.” She tried to smile and laugh, but the sound choked. She swallowed. “Oh, God,” she shivered and tears pricked her eyes.
Higgins reached over to her arm and gave it a light squeeze.
“Just take a deep breath.” She tried, felt it catch, but tried again. She was close to tears and she was hyperventilating. She shut her eyes. “I’d only pulled off the road because I wanted to take a short break. I didn’t think anyone would come along on that back road. I thought I could take a quick nap.” She struggled to get the words out. “I thought it was a scarecrow in the field when I first looked, but something seemed off.”
She moved her hands, which were shaking from around the cup. “So I walked out into the field and then I...I saw…” She clamped her mouth shut around the scream. “He was just strung up on the post.”
Again his hand reached out, but she flinched. He looked down at the notepad he’d been dictating on. “You don’t know him?”
She shook her head violently.
What she didn’t say was how she’d lost hours in her drive. She didn’t remember pulling up to the field. She didn’t even remember stepping foot into it. What she remembered was waking up staring up at the man hung on that post like a scarecrow. His eyes stared down at her. He was tied there with barbed wire. She didn’t know who did it. Had she?
She was so cold too. So cold.
It was happening again.