Chapter 2: Accusation

My love for you was bullet proof,

But in the end.

You were the one who shot me.



"I didn't kill her!" I shouted angrily for what seemed like the hundredth time.

To say I was pissed would have been an understatement. They'd dragged me out of my apartment without even giving me a proper explanation of any sorts. I'd been sitting here in this cramped up interrogation room for the past two hours. These idiot cops were getting on my nerves. They kept asking me pointless questions, making me repeat myself over and over again.

The door burst open and a middle-aged stern looking man walked in.

"I'll take it from here boys." He ordered.

The two police officers who'd been interrogating me seemed beyond relieved.

"He's all yours detective. Good luck with this one." One of the police officers declared as they both scurried out of the room.

The man took a seat right across from me.

"I'm Detective Miller." He introduced himself casually.

I gave him a blank look.

"I'd introduce myself too but I assume you already know everything about me."

The detective laughed, waving off my bitter tone.

"You can call me John if that makes you more comfortable."

I just continued to glower at him.

"Come on Nate, be reasonable. You cooperating would make things a lot easier for the both of us."

"I've already told those two officers everything I know." I grit out.

"Why don't you tell it to me again?" the detective countered.

I ran a hand through my hair tiredly. I really just wanted to get out of this place and go home.

"I found the girl when I was heading to this party with my friend, at some kid's place."

"Where was this party exactly?"

"Someplace down at Cedar Street."

"Okay, continue." He encouraged.

"Like I said, we found the girl in one of the alleyways at the back. She was in pretty bad shape, almost passed out."

"Was she drunk?"

"I'm not sure, alcohol doesn't usually influence a person that way, not unless it's consumed in an extremely large amount." I admitted.

"Are you saying that someone drugged her?"

"Look, I'm not an expert. I don't know what happened to her I'm just saying it's a possibility."

The detective nodded as he took in the information.

"Tell me what happened next Nate?" He asked.

"I couldn't just leave an unconscious girl in the middle of the street, so I drove her home. She was still unconscious so I had to carry her to her apartment, the receptionist had already given me the key so I unlocked the door and put her on the sofa. I left her apartment immediately after that, I don't know what happened next. All I know is that I didn't kill her!" I spat out.

"Did you see anyone else while you were there?" John asked seriously.

"Not really. The whole place seemed deserted. There was this one girl though, I met her outside in the hallway, she seemed to know Allison."

"Do you know the girls name?"

"No I never asked. She had brown hair, brown eyes, she wasn't very tall, but not too short either." I recalled.

The detective seemed to be lost in thought. Suddenly he started going through the files placed before him, finally his eyes caught a photograph. He took it out and held it up for me to see.

"Is this her by any chance?"

I studied the picture before finally nodding my head.

That was the girl alright. For some reason, I hadn't been able to get her out of my head since last night.

"Yeah that's her."

"Her name is Verena Dawson. She lives in the apartment across from Allison's, she's the first person we questioned about the murder."

A thought suddenly occurred to me.

"She saw me leave, she can testify to that. I left the apartment complex before the murder happened she's a witness to that. Why don't you ask her she'll tell you."

The detective studied me seriously. Like something didn't seem to add up. 

"Mr. Cohen." He said cautiously, "Ms. Dawson is the one who told us you were the murderer."

"What?" I demanded furiously.

What John was saying made no sense. 

Verena had seen me drop Allison off and leave, why on earth would she try to accuse me?

The detective sighed, clearly frustrated.

"Ms. Dawson was the one who found the body. She told us how she saw you with Allison's unconscious body the night before and that she believed you were the one who killed her."

I let out a groan in agitation.

Why was this happening to me?

"How did she know who and where I was? I never gave her my name."

"That's actually the amusing part. You see, she was clever enough to note down the number plate of your truck, she handed your license plate number to the police and our boys did the rest."

I was livid. 

That girl actually had the nerve!

The girl I'd seen the night before was actually trying to frame me for a crime I didn't commit. She had clearly seen me leave, but instead of trying to clear my name she was trying to frame me!

"Let me ask you a question, John." I countered as I leaned forward across the table.

"You're accusing me of murder because I was at the wrong place at the wrong time, for a second I can pretend I get that. But how come I'm the only suspect here? This girl Verena, or whatever her name is, she was there last night too. How come she's not here?"

John sighed like he knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"Let me just cut to the chase here Nate. We found your finger prints all over Allison's body, on her door, on her apartment keys. We also have footage of you carrying her unconscious body to her apartment, unfortunately the security cameras aren't installed inside the apartments so we don't know what you were doing while you were inside, no body went in or came out after that. As for the answer to your question about Ms. Dawson, we did check and she was in fact at the library like she told us, her alibi checks out."

"I already told you the reason for all of those things! The girl was unconscious, I took her home! What was I supposed to do? Just leave her on the street? My friend Marcus must have told you the same thing when you questioned him. My explanation is authentic and you have no proof to claim otherwise." I growled.

The detective studied me wordlessly for a few moments before he spoke again.

"You know what surprises me the most?" He asked, "That someone actually shot an innocent girl in her apartment yet not a single soul heard or saw it happen. It wasn't until the morning that the body was discovered. A gunshot is bound to draw some attention, even if the murderer used a silencer with his gun it'd still make enough noise, especially since the windows were open."

"The whole complex seemed to be deserted last night." I wondered out loud. "Almost nobody was home and it's like the murderer knew


"Yes, indeed." John responded as he gauged my reaction.

"Look, I know you can't arrest me until you acquire some real evidence to against me; like a gun, something that proves I actually committed the murder. I bet you had no luck finding a weapon when you searched the house and my truck. You're not going to find anything on me. Why don't you stop wasting time and focus on finding the real killer, instead of trying so hard to pin this on me!" I spat out angrily.

John sighed, "I'd like to believe you Nate, I really would. But considering your past record, I think it's safe to say that you are our prime suspect right now." He leaned back in his chair casually but his eyes never left mine.

"Tell me, how long has it been since the last time you were here? Three years, four? Except, that time you had been behind bars, hadn't you? You were a violent teenager." He finished calmly.

I clenched my jaw so tightly that it almost hurt, I could feel my anger flaring up again.

"That was one time!" I spat out.

"I don't blame you. I mean it's totally understandable given your past history. You didn't have it easy as a kid. How's your mother now by the way?"

"Be very careful about what you say next." I spoke in a low voice, my tone was menacing.

The guy would shut up if he knew what was best for him.

"Threatening me won't make this any easier."

I continued to glare at him, "Either let me go right now or let me call my attorney. I'm done talking."

 I knew that John couldn't hold me here for long. Even though all the evidence they'd come across pointed toward me it still wasn't enough to charge me of murder. They needed proof, real proof, and until they found it they had no choice but to let me go.

"Okay, you're free to go." John finally replied.

I stood up abruptly, I couldn't stand to be in this suffocating room any longer. As I started to make my way towards the door I heard John speak up again,

"We may not have enough proof right now but let me assure you, we will not rest until the murderer is behind bars. We're going to be watching you, monitoring your every move. You slip up just once and you end up in jail again, this time for good. I suggest you enjoy the few moments you have left as a free man. We will not rest until justice has been served." His voice was cold.

Although the detective had said no such thing directly, I knew he was accusing me. He believed I was the killer and that they just needed to find enough proof to arrest me.

"Good luck to you then." I said calmly before walking out.

I took in a few calming breaths when I finally stepped outside. There wasn't a place in this world which I hated more than a police station. I let out a frustrated sigh. I couldn't believe this was actually happening to me.

I didn't think of myself as a good man.

Hell, I knew I wasn't a good man.

But I also knew that I didn't kill her.

Right now I was being accused of a crime I didn't commit. Just the thought of someone killing an innocent girl repulsed me. By the looks of it, it seemed that the police were more concerned with finding proof to arrest me rather than finding the real killer.

I made up my mind, 

I would have to find the murderer myself so I could clear my name.

And I knew just where to start,

Verena Dawson.

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