Jason grimaced as a blast of cool air blew into his scratched face. His wrists were handcuffed to a metal chair bolted to the floor. His left leg unconsciously moved up. The handcuff bit into his ankle. Jason's leg resumed it's place on the floor. He casually glanced around, as though he were in a club, waiting for a server to arrive with a cigar.
Click.
A tall man with curly gold hair strolled in, emerald green eyes watching him. Jason stopped himself from scowling.
A scowl is not going to convince them I'm innocent, he hissed.
The man sat down as a short woman with black hair entered. She walked in, steps measured like a predator stalking it's prey. Saliva evaporated in his mouth. She coolly inclined her head, onyx eyes half frozen as she sat down. The man leaned forward.
"I am Detective Chambre," he said. He glanced at the woman next to him. "And she is my partner, Detective Baasch."
"Jason Moor. Nice to meet you," he said cooly. Inside, his brain started to scramble.
These two are known for investigating corrupt politicians and businessmen. They have a 100% conviction rate.
His knee jogged up unconsciously. It jerked when Lotte raised an eyebrow.
I am screwed. But how the hell do I fix this?
Detective Chambre turned on the camera, red light on.
"Mr. Moor, why did you flee to Canada?" Detective Baasch asked. Jason glanced at the camera.
"I wanted to find out who wrote that note."
"Senator Ye Sha-"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry for interrupting you but Ye Sha wouldn't do this."
"How are you so sure?"
His mind drew a blank.
"It's not his style," he said.
"What's his usual style?" Detective Chambre questioned.
"Secrets. Secrets big enough to cause scandal."
"And this doesn't count because...."
"Because he would have done it himself. He doesn't trust this kind of thing to his bodyguards."
"You have been blackmailed before?"
D*** right.
"A few times."
"Over what?"
"Mostly threats about proper spouse behavior." Jason nearly winced at his response.
Now they think you're a cheater.
The two detectives glanced at each other.
I need to find a way out. And fast.
"Wouldn't this be considered a threat though?" She asked. "Abromsky was sent there." Jason stiffened.
"Perhaps so," he began slowly, "but I wasn't there."
"Do you have an alibi?" Detective Chambre asked. Jason grit his teeth.
That detective knows I don't have one.
Jason exhaled slowly. "No."
"Where were you?"
"Nowhere."
"We could send you straight to prison if you can't tell us where you went."
"I.. I was in Abromsky's apartment." Jason studied their expressions.
Great. I'm officially a cheater and Sonya is a home wrecker. I am officially a hated man in the American eye.
"Were you having an affair?" Detective Chambre asked.
"No, we're friends."
"One of your friends said he saw you kiss her." Jason had to resist the urge to snap.
This is not f******** middle school. Use some better evidence than an overprotective chicken overreacting to me tripping and landing on her face.
"I tripped."
"Right."
For good investigators, they sure as hell are biased. How am I supposed to prove I'm innocent when they act like Blaire's friends and family?
YOU ARE READING
Who Am I
Mystery / ThrillerEditing. I can't help but wonder what's wrong with you. She's gone. I'm gone. And the other's dead. Why do you search for us? We're never coming back. And I'm sure you really want to know who I am. But you can't find me. And neither can your dogs...
