"You are under arrest for committing… murder," the lady whispered into his ears.
"Who would have thought Rabbit is a cop?" Dion retorted calmly, his brain calculating how to escape his current predicament.
"You recognized me?" The lady asked calmly, but Dion couldn't hear the shock in her tone. A black, soft, woolly mask covered every part of her face.
"I wonder how you found me," Dion asked instead of answering, but Rabbit didn't lower her gun.
A blaring siren came from a distance, followed by a screeching sound as a car halted in front of the alley. Four male officers came from inside the car and walked up to Rabi.
Rabbit twisted Dion's hands and handcuffed them behind his back, before pulling him towards the car. He didn't resist.
Three officers followed behind while an officer remained behind, beside the shifter's body after Rabi whispered something to him. The shifter's body strangely had no animal features after he died.
Rabi pulled Dion to the car and pushed him into the back seat. She sat on one side beside Dion, while another officer sat on the other side. Without delay, the driver sped away and the car fell into silence. However, Dion knew it was going to be settled at the station.
Even though he appeared unfazed and casual throughout the whole ordeal, his heart was drumming wildly. He was caught and arrested for murder! That's not a petty charge.
Dion breathed slowly and calmed his thumping heart. He fired his brain at full cylinders and prepared for a good interrogation. All his excuses need to be flawless if he wants to avoid going to jail. But going to the police station brought a nostalgic feeling.
Thirty minutes elapsed before the vehicle came to a halt in front of the imposing police station. Rabi swiftly pulled Dion out of the car, removing her mask in the process. Revealed before him was a captivating woman, her shoulder-length hair cascading in black waves, framing an oval face adorned with a pair of enchanting brown eyes. A mischievous glimmer danced within those eyes as she gazed at Dion from head to toe.
"We meet again," she declared, her voice dripping with intrigue. "You're quite young. I had anticipated you to be 27, 28, or even 29 years old. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Abby Roger."
Dion stole a fleeting glance in her direction before averting his gaze. "Alright, Rabbit. Let's get on with this. I desperately need to catch some sleep." With confident strides, he entered the police station, paying little heed to the few officers on the night shift."
Abby swiftly caught up with Dion, walking alongside him. Her words cut through the air, "What makes you think you'll walk away freely after committing murder?"
Dion's eyebrow arched in confusion, his voice laced with bewilderment. "Murder? I can't recall ever doing such a thing. Rabbit, accusing someone of murder is a grave offense. You can't simply throw around accusations." He took a sharp turn, striding down the hallway.
Silence enveloped Abby as she walked beside him, her gaze filled with a mix of curiosity and puzzlement.
Eventually, they arrived at a door, and Dion halted. Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Abby questioned him. "How do you know the way to the investigation room?"
Dion's eyes widened with feigned surprise. "Oh, I got it right?"
"Enough with the act," Abby retorted, unlocking his cuffs before ushering him into the room.
The interrogation room was plain and simple. A broad table occupied the middle, flanked by two chairs, while another pair sat facing them. Dion entered the room, settling into a seat with an air of ease. He was simply awaiting the commencement of the interrogation. After approximately forty minutes, Abby returned, clutching a file and a cup of coffee.
She placed the coffee in front of Dion, taking her seat opposite him.
Dion made no move to touch the coffee, his gaze fixed firmly on Abby.
Abby began the interrogation with a pen in her hand, her demeanor sharp and professional:
"Name."
"Dion Kruz."
"Age."
"Eighteen."
"House address."
"Seventh Lane, ..."
Abby continued her line of questioning, delving into Dion's personal details. However, when she reached the final question, she paused. Placing the file on the table, she locked eyes with Dion. Dion didn't avoid her gaze; he stared back calmly.
"Why were you in the alley?" She asks with narrow eyes.
"To escape the hail of gunshots. I ran blindly, without checking my direction, and ended up in the alley," Dion replied calmly.
Abby nodded before asking, "Second question. Do you know that man in the alley?"
"No. I only encountered him there, and he attacked me like a rabid dog." Dion responded.
Suddenly, the interrogation room door swung open, revealing an officer carrying a large device adorned with tangled wires.
"That's a truth detector. We'll continue once it's set up. We're approaching the crucial part of the interrogation," Abby explained, causing Dion's heart to quicken.
He had been interrogated many times, but there was never a time he was interrogated while being strapped to a truth detector.
Despite his reservations, he didn't resist as the man secured and connected the device to his arm. With swift efficiency, the man completed the setup and took a seat beside Abby, his gaze fixed on the screen.
Abby's smile took on a wicked edge. "Let's pick up where we left off." She leaned back, maintaining her smile. "Do you have any knowledge of the operation at the club tonight?"
"If you're referring to the gunshots stuff, I was just as surprised as anyone else," Dion replied.
The man checking the detector gave a thumbs up.
"What about the drugs?" Abby pressed further.
"I know a few things about that…"
Abby's smile faded and she sat up.
Dion leaned forward and whispered, "...like drugs usually circulate in clubs. They are a major and secret site for spreading drugs. As for the particular one sold, I have no idea."
Abby looked at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Dion remained unfazed.
"Does the name Rocky Peters ring a bell?" Abby enunciated.
Dion fell silent for a moment, carefully choosing his words to protect himself — a deception of the truth.
Dion maintained his composure and whispered, "I know a drug dealer named Rocky Peters…"
Abby blinked and her eyes flashed with a sharp glint.
"...whom someone mentioned to me."
"Who?" Abby asked instantly.
"A talkative human who is good with information."
Abby quieted for a second.
"Have you seen Rocky Peters?"
"Never seen him. I've seen only one picture." Dion shook his head.
"What about the drugs he sells? Have you seen any of them before?"
"Rabbit, I'm innocent!" Dion slipped in the nickname, causing the man monitoring the values to give him a strange look.
Ignoring the man's reaction, Dion continued, "I have never seen his drugs or met him."
Abby quieted for a moment.
"Did you kill the man? I need a yes or no," she asked, her tone frosty.
"No. A bullet came out of nowhere, ending his life just as he was about to take mine," Dion replied confidently.
Anxiously, Abby turned to the man monitoring the values, confirming Dion's truthfulness. Her eyes had frequently darted toward him throughout the interrogation, searching for any signs of falsehood.
She snapped her head back to Dion, her anger flaring. Rising from her seat, she slammed her palms on the table, and unleashed a furious roar, "You think I don't know you have been going in circles? Do you think I can't tell? I have valid proof of your involvement."
Abby retrieved Dion's mission phone and placed it on the table. His pupils constricted as he laid eyes on the device.
Drawing her face closer to his, Abby whispered in a soft yet menacing tone, "I need names. Who gave you the intel? What is your role in today's game? What do you know about tonight's raiding…"
Dion's mind spun in chaos, drowning out the rest of her words. Fear gripped his heart, shaking him to the core. 'I thought the phone was secured, or Ella would do something when the police got it. Damn! I can't trust any chatterbox. This is precisely why I never trust.'