Archer #2
“You’re walking a slippery tightrope,” Aubree counters. “If you question her and she freaks, you get in trouble. If you extract information from her that proves useful, it could be tossed out by the other side and labeled coercion.”
“Guess we’ll wing it.” I nod, indicating for Clay to step aside. “Thanks, Officer. Feel free to take a break until we’re done in here. Eat if you haven’t yet.”
“I’ll stay.” He expands his chest with a deep inhale. “I’m not hungry, and I don’t require the bathroom. But if you need me to do anything, I’m available.”
“Your CO doesn’t mind that you’re taking time off and hanging out over here?”
His cheeks flame bright, boyish red. “My CO hasn’t asked, Detective. I requested time off. He stamped the paperwork and sent me on my way.”
“Have you checked in with the department shrink?”
His eyes fling to Fletch. Then to Mayet and Aubree. “No, sir.” He brings them back to me. “I’ve not been ordered to do so.”
“Did your CO suggest you do so?”
He shakes his head. “No, sir. He didn’t mention it.”
So he just doesn’t fucking care? Cool.
Dropping it, I move to the door. “Alright, Officer. Stand easy.”
He snaps his spine straight and barely stops before saluting.
“Or not.” I grab the handle and carefully push the door open, revealing a shadowed room that smells of antiseptic and sterile plastic.
Machines beep, and girls sniffle. If they were talking before, they’ve stopped now.
If they were relaxed, all three women now stare warily as I sweep the curtain aside.
Probably shouldn’t bring four people to a meeting with two teenage girls and a worried mother.
“Hi.” I try for an easy smile. For unhurried movements and non-threatening steps.
But already, Molly’s eyes fill with tears and her monitors grow louder.
Her heart rate, faster. “My name is Detective Archer Malone.” I step aside and allow Fletch to follow me in, then Minka and Aubree.
“Detective Charlie Fletcher. Doctors Mayet and Emeri.” I gesture toward each one as I say their name.
“Sorry to fill your room so swiftly. We often move in a pack and forget how little space there is in these places.”
“You’re the detectives investigating Ben’s…” The friend, Tori, gulps. “What happened to him.”
“Yeah, we are.” I show her my badge. Anything to take her eyes off my weapons. “And you’re Tori Baylor, right?” I offer her my hand and watch as her face drains dangerously white. “Molly’s best friend?”
“H-how’d you know my name?” She takes my hand, her grip weak and undemanding, but she remains seated. “It’s weird the police know my name before I even meet them.”
I release her and smile. Comfort. Stop being scary, Malone!
“Molly’s social media, actually.” I look at the girl in the bed and search her tubes.
Her wires. The bandages hidden beneath her gown and blankets.
“Ben’s death matters to us, and Ben—and you,” I bring my focus back to Tori, “appeared a lot in the things Molly posted. Watching those videos made it so we could get to know you all. Get to know who you were before this happened.”
“Do you have any news for us, Detectives?” Mrs. Freemon strokes Molly’s wrist. Gentle, soothing, rhythmic strokes. Though I can’t say for sure who they’re more comforting for. Mother or daughter. “Anything since yesterday?”
“No, ma’am.” Fletch steps forward because he’s our nicer, gentler half.
“It’s really important that we speak to Molly now.
We can’t proceed until we know her version of events.
Your version.” He brings kind eyes to Molly.
“We understand you’re sore. We know you’re tired and scared.
We don’t want to make this worse for you, but we have to know what you saw. What you heard.”
Molly’s eyes flicker to her mom, guilt lancing across her features.
“I’m a dad,” Fletch continues. “To a girl. She’s younger than you, but someday, eventually, she’ll be a teenager.
And I know she’s probably going to sneak out at night sometimes.
” He shakes his head, dropping his gaze and scoffing.
“God knows, I won’t be pleased about it.
I’ll probably mess up. I’ll shout at her and make her scared to admit the things she did.
But I promise, in my case, none of that would change the love I have for her.
Sneaking out, seeing boys, lying to our parents…
these are things every teenager does. It’s part of growing up. ”
Molly squeezes her eyes closed, fat tears sliding onto her cheeks.
“Your parents care that you’re safe.” Fletch holds the end of her bed, gripping the steel foot. “They might’ve been mad before if they knew you were sneaking out, but I’m confident that now, they just care that you’re okay.”
“We’re not mad, Mol.” Mrs. Freemon wraps her hand around Molly’s, wiping her puffy eyes with the back of her other hand. “Daddy and I… We’re not angry. We thought we lost you. Anything other than that is a gift.”
“You snuck out to see Ben two nights ago.” I take a single step forward and soften my expression. “Did you do that often?”
She swallows, her lungs shuddering with an almost silent sob. “A couple of times before.” She gulps, peeking at her mother. “Not many, I swear.”
“Why did you sneak out this time?” Fletch questions. “Why’d you go to the bay? Who were you meeting there?”
“Ben.” Whimpering, she drapes her free hand over her face, shielding her eyes. “I was meeting Ben at the bay.”
“You weren’t going there with him to meet someone else?” I clarify. “He wasn’t there to see anyone?”
“Just me.” She sniffles, short and sharp. “We sometimes go there during the day, too. It’s quiet, and since it’s right on the water, the breeze is cooler than anywhere else.”
“Molly…” Fletch’s voice turns a little harder. A little more serious. “Did Ben get messed up with something? Was he selling drugs or stealing things or—”
She groans, hiccupping on her breath.
“He won’t get in trouble,” I press. “And neither will you. What’s done is done. But it’s important we know the things he was into. The people he associated with.”
“He was dealing drugs,” Tori murmurs.
Molly gasps, her eyes slinging open and burning with betrayal. “Tor—”
“He was. He was selling drugs to some kids in our grade.”
“Oh God.” Mrs. Freemon drops her head into her palm. “Oh, Molly.”
“We didn’t know until recently,” Tori continues. “As soon as we did, Molly told him to stop.”
“Did you fight about it?” Aubree steps around Fletch, clasping her hands together instead of touching. “You didn’t want him to do that, but money is money, right? And guys like him, guys who don’t have the same family support and safety nets others do, money means freedom. It means power.”
“I told him to stop.” Molly tilts her head back, digging it into the pillow and staring at the ceiling.
She blinks through her tears, her jaw and teeth trembling with emotion.
“I was mad when I found out, because I wondered…” She moans.
“I wondered for a little while, and he swore he wasn’t.
I believed him. When I found out, I demanded he stop. ”
“And did he?” Aubree presses. “For you… Did he stop?”
Big, fat tears well up and roll from the corners of her eyes, dribbling over her temples and disappearing in her hair. “He said he did. Again.”
Minka steps forward, the last of our four. The final piece to our puzzle. “Did you believe him?”
She shakes her head, clamping her teeth tight. “No.”
“Did he stiff his supplier?” I ask. “Owe him money? Piss off a buyer, maybe?”
Molly’s chest and shoulders vibrate with a silent sob. “I don’t know. Probably.”
“Why, specifically, did you sneak out two nights ago to see him?”
“Because he told me to.” Her monitors beep faster. Frantic. Painful, surely, for a girl whose heart stopped not so long ago. “Because he asked me to, and because I loved him.”
The door swings open behind us, the wind of its momentum hitting the back of my neck.
Then Grant Freemon strides in and takes only a moment to study his wife, with her face in her hand.
His daughter, with tears on her cheeks. And then me, Fletch, Aubree, and Minka.
Angry, he stalks around us and turns back, shielding his family.
“The hell is going on in here? What happened?”
“We have questions,” Fletch answers. Our diplomat. Our negotiator. “It’s completely understandable that Molly is emotional while she answers.”
“Excuse me.” Anxious, Tori bounces up from her chair and hugs her bag to her chest. Her long, red curls dangle past her shoulders, sky-blue eyes glittering with the tears she tries so hard to control.
She shakes her head and flattens her lips, and scooting around her chair and past Minka, she strides to the door.
“I’ll come back another time, Mols. Feel better, okay? ”
“Tori—”
“I have to go home for now. My mom and dad are expecting me.” She swipes her face, faking a smile. “I’ll see you later.”
Grant slaps the nurse’s call button, taking Molly’s hand as anger wafts from his solid six feet in waves. “You’re in pain, baby. You need more medicine and rest.”
“We still have questions,” Fletch insists. “Please, Grant. If you could just—”
“She’s in pain! She needs rest. Leave a card and we’ll call you when she’s feeling better.”
“She’s our only witness.” Aubree stumbles forward and takes his hand, cupping it between her palms. “Please, Mr. Freemon. Your daughter is safe. She’s right here in front of you, alive and breathing and talking.
But the same can’t be said for Ben. If his killer isn’t done yet, someone else will die while we waste time. Molly needs to speak up.”
“Molly needs to rest!”
“Whoever killed Ben is still out there,” Minka counters. “Whoever did that knows she was there. If the detectives don’t find them, they might come looking for her. It hurts, and it’s scary. She’s grieving, we know. But for her own safety, she needs to speak up.”
“Grant…” Mrs. Freemon wipes her face with shaking hands. Her breath hitching and clawing deep in her chest. “We can’t protect her from whoever did this.”
“Yes, we can. We will.”
“You have a police guard on the door.” Gently, Fletch takes Aubree’s arm and tugs her back. “For now, you’re safe. But eventually, Molly will leave this place, and when that day comes, the risk your family faces grows exponentially. Help us, so we can get this person off the streets.”
“You think I don’t know how to handle those thugs?” Grant glares over his shoulder, his eyes burning with the desperation only a father knows. “You think I’m scared of them?”
“It’s not a matter of what we think. It’s what we know.
And I know that if you take matters into your own hands, you’ll end up behind bars, too.
” Minka slides a hand into her pocket and takes out…
nothing. But then she extends her hand, palm side up, and accepts a George Stanley business card from Aubree.
“We’re here to help you, Mr. Freemon. Don’t trade your freedom for vengeance.
You’ll get caught, and for what? So you can know you were the one who swung the sword of retribution?
So you could feel like you defended your family?
” She offers her card, holding it in the air between them.
But when he doesn’t accept, she places it on Molly’s bed beside her feet.
“Call me anytime if you’d like to discuss the matter and have a buffer between you and the police. ”
“Chief Mayet,” I snarl. “Not appropriate.”
“As chief medical examiner, and as the tech formally assigned to Ben’s case, I am well within my rights to accept that call and discuss this case.
” She looks at Molly, tilting her head to the side.
“That offer goes for you, too. We know you’re scared, and we know you have no reason to believe us.
But we’re trying to help. Even if Ben made mistakes while he was alive, he deserves justice. ”