𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒// 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙

𝐈 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡.

Bill's words had struck me like a bolt from the blue. I never expected him to actually ask me out, and as we drove back home, I found myself engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions. Joy surged through me, intertwining with a sense of disbelief and exhilaration. We sang our hearts out to the songs on the radio, our laughter filling the car as we sped down the empty highway, the wind tousling our hair.

"Wait, what's happening over here?" I said, pointing towards my house where a cop car was parked in my driveway.

"What the fuck," Bill muttered, his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel as we pulled in, parking on the side of the road by my house.

"Umm, can I help you?" I said, my voice tinged with apprehension as I approached the police officer who stood around his squad car, his stern expressions casting a shadow over the scene.

"Are you Valarie Mayer?" the officer spoke, his tone clipped and authoritative. He wasn't dressed in the regular uniform; instead, he exuded an aura of professionalism, dressed in a crisp white button-up with nicely tailored black dress pants and a matching blazer.

"Yes, how may I help you?" I said, feeling a knot form in my stomach as Bill stood beside me, his presence offering a sense of comfort, his hand resting reassuringly on my waist.

"Okay, my name is Detective Cruz. I'm working on the case of Brian Campos, along with the other murders that we suspect were committed by the same individual. Now, I was told by a few of his family members and friends that you were in a relationship with Brian. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's correct," I said, my voice steady despite the nerves churning within me, my arms instinctively crossing over my chest in a protective gesture.

"Now, let me ask you, have you happened to see Brian on April 3rd between the hours of 10 p.m. and 12 a.m.?" Detective Cruz asked, his pen poised over the notepad he retrieved from his pocket, his steely gaze boring into mine.

"No, sir, I think the last time I saw him might've been between the 31st of March or 1st of April. I'm not quite sure." I said, furrowing my brow as I struggled to recall the details amidst the haze of my memories.

"It was the 1st," Bill interjected, his voice calm yet firm, his eyes locking with the detective's in silent assertion.

The detective's gaze then shifted to Bill, his scrutiny sharp and penetrating. "You were there?" he asked, his tone tinged with suspicion.

"Well, kind of," Bill replied, his words measured as he chose them carefully, his demeanor mirroring the detective's intensity.

"Alright, can you tell me what happened that night?" Detective Cruz inquired, his curiosity piqued as he leaned in, his focus unwavering.

"Umm, he broke into my house. I had to run out to get away from him, and Bill helped me get him out of my house," I said, my voice trembling slightly as I recounted the dreading experience, the memories still fresh in my mind.

"Why didn't you call the police?" Detective Cruz asked, his brow furrowing in skepticism, his gaze piercing through me as if searching for any hint of deception.

"Because nothing is done about it," I said with a shrug, my tone tinged with bitterness, It's like no one listens when I call for help. Every time Brian got violent the police would always come and he was able to talk his way out of it, it's like they just brush it off. It's made me lose faith in the police and in the  justice system as a whole. As for a hint of advice, never. And I mean never talk to Brian. That man can talk you into believing whatever falls out his mouth.

"I actually filed for a restraining order on him, but it was denied," I added, my voice tinged with frustration as I recalled the futile attempts to seek help, my eyes locking with the detective's in a silent challenge.

"Yeah, okay, darling," Detective Cruz said dismissively, his demeanor condescending as he scribbled notes in his notepad, his skepticism palpable in the air.

"Well, the real reason I'm here is that Brian's phone last location was pinned to this house. His friends also claimed that he was coming to Los Angeles to see you, and, well, supposedly you were the last to see him," he said, his tone shifting to one of accusation, his gaze piercing through me with a steely stare.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't help you," I said, my voice firm yet tinged with defiance, my arms folding across my chest in a protective stance.

"But I think you can," he retorted, his tone laced with menace as he leaned in closer, his demeanor growing more menacing by the moment.

"She's done answering your questions," Bill intervened, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife, his stance protective as he stepped forward, his hand reaching out to pull me closer to him.

"I'm not asking you questions, son," Detective Cruz said to Bill, his tone dripping with contempt as he raised a hand to silence him, his gaze flickering with a dangerous glint.

"Come on, Val, you won't answer any more questions until I get you a lawyer," Bill muttered, his voice low yet serious as he guided me towards the front door of my home.

"Ma'am," Detective Cruz said, his voice cutting through the air like a whip, his tone commanding attention, but I abruptly interrupted him, "I plead the 5th!" My voice ringing out with defiance as I slammed the front door shut, the sound echoing like a final declaration of defiance.