I leaned against the brick wall. The orange... if I see it again, I swear, I'd jump out a window. I looked across my cell, seeing Adam running his hands though his hair, his leg bouncing. The orange jumper hid all his muscle. Oh, there’s the orange. I look to the window. It's in the top corner of the cell, and looked like it was hit by a bat.
Maybe it was. Adam opened his mouth to say something. Nothing happened. He closed it again. “You gonna say something?” “I’m looking for that.” “Oh, okay,” I nod. “Let me know when you find it.”
Adam gives me a disappointed look. “Freddie, you know we didn’t do anything.” “I know.” “That means we’re innocent.” “That’s not what they think.” Adam gave me another look. I just shook my head.
“Freddie—” “I know.” I closed my eyes. “Our trial should start soon.” He nodded. “Yeah. It’s surprising how quick we’ll be starting.” “Detective has been on this case for a while,” hummed the guard outside. We both shot up at his voice.
“Sorry—” the guard stepped away. “I just, uh—Detective, she wants a word.” We both nod. The guard holds the keys up, which is our cue to back away. Five feet rule, or whatever. I don’t know all the rules. The guard opens it and holds two cuffs up. “She requested you two wore these.”
“What, do we have an option not to where them?” Adam holds his wrists out. I do the same. “I don’t make the rules, I’m sorry...” the guard locks our hands in front of us, then leads us out. People stare, both prisoners and guards. I hate when people stare.
We’re taken to a room that looks like any cop movie: there’s two chairs on one side of the table, and one on the other. It’s been taken by a woman with short blonde hair and a glare in her blue eyes. “Sit,” she commands. Adam and I waste no time to take a seat. “I’m Detective Casse,” she says.
“Nice to meet you, Cassid—” “I said Casse. Cass-e. And you address me as Detective.” Adam went quiet, signaling he understood. I nodded. She looked to the glass, then motioned. Nothing happened.
“Sorry,” she said. “I wanted them to leave.” We both gave weak nods. “Right. I’ll cut to the chase. I’m going against you two, with Ms. Becker.” “She doesn’t live here anymore...” Adam said, in a hoarse voice. “She’s coming back from Michigan.”
“Michigan?” We both exclaim, a little too loud. Casse shushes us. “She moved there after Talyn was found dead... She couldn’t handle it.” We both stay quiet. “My point is, I’m allowed to interview you two and ask a few questions.” “Okay.”
I glance at Adam. Even though he managed a confident ‘okay’ for Detective Casse, he still looks shaken up. “I understand you two have chosen public defense systems, yes?” I inch closer, setting my hands on the table. I’ve gotten some random burst of confidence. “Yes.”
“And Mrs. Becker has chosen me.” “You’d know that, not us. We don’t get information.” She gave Adam a look. “Alright.” She picked a coffee cup up and sipped it, placing it back down beside her foot.
“I just have one question for you. Answer honestly. Nobody but me is hearing this.” Adam and I are quiet. Detective Casse leans forward, before glancing around. When her eyes land back on us, they’re cold and lifeless, like Tayln’s. “Why’d you kill her?”
Neither of us answered. She waited, looking between us. Adam didn’t speak. I didn’t either. “I need an answer,” she said. Silence. “Something.”
No answer. “You can tell me. I won’t use this against y—” “We didn’t.” I spoke up, looking away from her. “What?” “We didn’t kill her.” I said louder. Adam and her stared at me.
“What did you say?” Detective Casse asked. “Adam and I didn’t kill Talyn Becker.” “Then who did, if I may ask?” “W-we don’t.... know...” Adam whispered. She nodded slowly, picking her coffee up. “We found your prints.”
I remembered the knife Adam touched. I looked to him. His face had gotten slightly pale. “...She’s a ghost.” There was a thud from Detective Casse’s side. We looked under the table and watched coffee slink away from its cup, pouring onto the floor. Adam swallowed. I stared.
Detective Casse blinked. She looked to the glass and snapped repeatedly, motioning to us. The guard from before came in and stood us up. Detective Casse stood up. “Back to their cell. They won’t give a straight answer, and I don’t have time. I have a case I have to prepare.”
Adam started struggling. “W-we aren’t kidding! I know it sounds crazy, but we both saw her, a-and—” Detective Casse pushed past us. Before she left, she looked to the guard and gave a smile, “Oh, and could you get someone to clean the coffee up? I’m sorry about it.” “Not a problem, Detecive,” the guard said.
Adam was thrown into the cell first, followed by me. Detective Casse stood outside, her hands in her jacket pockets. “We’re telling the truth,” I said, grabbing the cell bars. “Oh, of course. I’ll believe you when Talyn Becker’s ghost kisses me,” she said with a tiny smile. “Ghosts are not real, Freddie. I’m afraid you’ll have to learn that the hard way in the courtroom.”
She turned and walked away. I sighed, leaning on the bars. Behind me, Adam whispered, “If Tayln met her, she wouldn’t want to kiss that...”