The Lure of the Lie: A Modern Detective Anthology (*On Hold*)

10 Revealed

I wasn't sure how long Mrs. Lucas had been sitting alone in the interrogation room by the time we arrived. But it seemed as though it had been long enough for her to calm herself down. Now she simply stared at the metal table, eyes cold and distant, cheeks stained with tears she made no attempts to wipe away, lower lip quivering as if at any moment she could break again. Parker and I didn't say a word to each other before we entered.

We approached, both of us taking a seat across from her, but she did not as much as glance in our direction. I could see her pain, her suffering etched upon every line in her face. But, as sorry as I felt for her, I couldn't help but picture that poor teenage girl, tied to an iron hook in the damp basement of her own home. That image removed any semblance of pity I might have held for Mrs. Lucas.

"We found rope," Parker started in an even tone a moment later, "in the basement. The real basement, not the pantry. It was rust colored. Stained from prior instances of bleeding."

Mrs. Lucas only closed her eyes.

"We found a secret room," Parker continued, leaning forward and folding his hands into each other as he did. "One that locked from the outside. We have witnesses who will testify that Chelsea Lucas told them her mother was locking her up in her own home. Our lab is running analysis now on the blood stained on the fragments of rope found in your basement. I'm inclined to think they will be a match for your daughter."

Mrs. Lucas remained silent. She started slowly shaking her head back and forth. Parker pulled the file from beneath the table where he held it on his lap and opened up the manila folder. Her eyes shot up and, once she caught a glimpse of what was contained within, the tears started once more. I saw the first one roll slowly down her left cheek as I watched her reaction to the death she had caused closely.

"This," Parker continued with a much firmer tone this time. He slid crime scene photos of the bloated, decomposing body of the sixteen-year-old girl pulled from the river across the table so that she would be forced to look at them. "This is your daughter, Mrs. Lucas. This is what happens to a teenage girl when she's thrown into a river. Ligature marks around her ankles matched the rope in your basement perfectly."

"Stop," she said, quietly at first and then she began to scream. "Stop it now! Put them away! I don't want to see it! Put it away!"

"You don't want to see it?" Parker asked, standing and leaning forward, pointing at the photo in the middle. "But you did it, didn't you Mrs. Lucas? You did that to your baby girl."

She shook her head back and forth, tears streaming down her cheeks, shaking in her seat from the strength of her own denial.

"You locked her in the basement," Parker snarled. "You tied her ankles so tightly that they bled. Did you tie her wrists as well?"

"Please, please," she begged, hysterical now.

"Please what, Mrs. Lucas? Is that what your daughter said to you before she died?"

"I didn't mean to!" She exploded. I felt my lips part slightly in surprise at the sudden confession but Parker did not slip from character one time. His shoulders relaxed only slightly as he bore down on her. It was the only indication of his success.

"You didn't mean to what, Mrs. Lucas?"

Sobbing, she confessed, "I didn't mean to kill her."

Parker finally glanced my way and I met his gaze.

"Truthfully," Mrs. Lucas was continuing, "I don't even know how I did. It wasn't the first time I'd tied Chelsea up in the basement. I needed her to behave. She'd gotten a tattoo! With that awful girl she'd been hanging around! I couldn't imagine what she might do next. So I did what I'd done in the past. I did what I thought was best. I tied her up and told her to think about her behavior. I left her there. I always just left her there. It wasn't- When I returned a few hours later, she- she was-"