THE BLAME

Criminals

"Asher, do you know how Jessica died?" The detective had him officially interrogated.

"She was brutally attacked. Over the head, with a hammer. Our forensics show evidence of a culprit- male- more or less your height." Roland was practically spitting in his face as he spoke, gritting his teeth in disgust for such actions from a youngster. 

"So I am asking one more time: did you kill Jessica Davis?" 

Warm eyes turned to pools of fire. A soothing voice became rustic with turmoil. Every hair on his body raised. He was an interrogating beast. Even Jamie felt small under such conditions in the corner of the room, though he wasn't being addressed in the slightest. 

"No." He couldn't look more phased. 

Roland threw back his head in amusement, appearing displeased as ever. "BULL!" 

"What would it matter really? What's going to happen?" Instead of being intimated, Asher cocked his head with a boyish grin. 

"Well, if you don't confess, Mirah is going to jail. She took the blame," he heaved, "And I think we both know she is utterly innocent." He tried to play Asher's feelings at that point, giving him the information he received a mere hour or so prior. 

At the additional interest, Asher's eyes widened. "She what?" 

Mirah took the blame for killing the Davis girl. When asked how she did it, explanations weren't complete and detailed. "Shock and trauma," she shrugged as to give a valid reason for not remembering all she did to the poor young lady. Roland knew it was plausible, but he didn't buy it. 

"I did it. I bashed her head with her hammer that was nearby, then I wiped off my prints with my shirt. It's in my bag if you want further proof- it's smeared with her blood." Pressing his hands palm down onto the table, he stood up and squared his shoulders. He pleaded for them to believe him. They inspected his luggage; sure enough, his dirty shirt was crumbled deep beneath everything else. Further proof they needed not, and Asher was taken to the nearest police station. 

He was shuffled out of the room, Roland keeping Asher's arms behind his back. He called for Mirah, needing to see her for the possible final time. She emerged limply from behind a section of tents. She seemed uneasy, more so confused. Hastily, she questioned where he was being taken. 

"But I confessed! I did it!" She bawled at Roland's back, her injury allowing her no speed to catch on to them. Tears welled in her eyes as she continued to yelp after them. The police car's lights were in full display already. With struggle did the detective finally achieve shoving the criminal into the car. Before he would be seated, Asher wailed. 

"I love you, Mirah!" 

And then he was gone, the door shutting in the onlooker's staring faces. His silhouette couldn't even be made out from behind the tinted windows. 

Soon, campers were packing their bags as they've all been sent home from the traumatic experience. 

"How did this happen?" Jamie wept silently in the murderous comfort of his office. Cassidy, of course, served him with a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee. She would allow him to empty his feelings, uncluttering all he's kept to himself.  

In the end, he threw himself into the embrace of his colleague, bawling his eyes even further in the crook of her neck. "I don't know what this is going to mean now... for the camp, the board, our reputation. Us." She stroked his head gently, combing his curly locks. 

"It'll all work out. Love always wins in the end," she murmured. 

"I love you, Jamie."