Echoes into Darkness

CHAPTER 4

"Broken legs but I chase perfection" ~NF

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"Absolutely not, Diane. I'd rather you question her yourself," Detective Chris asserted firmly, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of uncertainty as he meticulously arranged the files on his desk. He cast a glance towards the one-way glass, his gaze lingering on his stepdaughter, Nyoka, who sat alone in the interrogation room, her expression unreadable.

Diane raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, her hand finding its place on her hip in a gesture of scepticism. "You can't deny it looks suspicious," she countered, her tone edged with a hint of doubt as she observed Nyoka through the glass. "Two teenagers from the same school, both stumbling upon a dead body at Lakeland Hills?"

Chris rose from his seat, a sense of determination evident in the set of his shoulders. "It's possible they stumbled upon the scene and felt compelled to report it out of a sense of responsibility," he reasoned, his voice calm but resolute. "It's not unheard of."

Diane's response was dry, her words delivered with the precision of a surgeon wielding a scalpel. "And what if she's hiding something? What if she's involved in Pearson's murder?" she queried, her monotone voice betraying none of the doubt that lingered within her.

Chris paused, his expression thoughtful as he considered her words. "I won't ignore any possibilities," he replied evenly, his tone masking the turmoil swirling beneath the surface. "But I won't jump to conclusions either."

Knowing that was the best she would get from him, Diane disappeared towards the interrogation room, allowing herself to ponder the weight of her own words. The truth was an elusive thing, a precious commodity that demanded pursuit, no matter where it led. And if that pursuit led to Nyoka, Diane knew Chris would have no choice but to follow it...even if it meant facing the painful reality of cuffing his stepdaughter.

The fluorescent lights of the interrogation room cast a harsh glare on the table, highlighting the features etched on Nyoka's face as she looked even more calculating than Diane remembered.

Detective Diane Harding entered the room, her steps purposeful and her face a mask of cool professionalism. Unlike Chris, Diane held no familial ties to Nyoka, and her dislike for the teenager was well-documented. The vandalism incident, later proven false, had left a bitter taste in her mouth...and she had carried her doubts in Nyoka along with her into the dimly lit room.

"Alright, Nyoka," Diane began, her voice devoid of warmth. "Let's talk about Lakeland Hills." Nyoka leaned back in her chair, her posture betraying a practised nonchalance. "I already told Officer Miller everything I know," she replied, her voice calm and measured.

"Then perhaps you can help me understand some discrepancies," Diane countered, her gaze unwavering. She placed a file folder on the table, the sharp snap echoing in the silence. Nyoka's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of curiosity momentarily breaking through her composed facade. "Discrepancies?" she echoed.

"Indeed," Diane confirmed, tapping a file with a manicured nail. "There are some inconsistencies in your statement and the timeline of events." A tense silence descended upon the room but Nyoka remained silent, her mind racing as she analyzed Diane's words. What inconsistencies? What was Diane hinting at?

"Look, Detective," Nyoka finally spoke, her voice laced with a hint of irritation. "Jacyn and I found a dead body. He called the police. That's the whole story."

Diane's raised eyebrow served as a silent gauntlet, daring Nyoka to challenge her assertion. "Is that the truth, Nyoka?" she queried, her voice devoid of inflexion, cutting through the air like a knife. "Jacyn claims you were at Lakeland Hills before his arrival...waiting for someone."