Terrible Trilogy

Part 17

'...What am I going to do now?' You thought to yourself, leaning against a wall down the hall. Practically hiding yourself in the shadows as the entire precinct was buzzing. 

'What if the killer gets pissed I'm here and sends a picture? What if Billy and Stu didn't get my car back to the motel?...What if-' 

"YN?" 

Your train of thought was interrupted as Dewey walked towards you. His limp was a bit worse than usual after the night you all had. Scratches and gashes on his face including right across his nose bridge. 

"How's your head?...And your hand?" He softly asked with a grimace.

"I'm alright. I'm no more beat up than the rest of you." 

"But…Randy said you were with the killer. I remember hearing you but with the killer after Gale. I'm sorry, Gale and Jennifer-" 

You held up a hand with a tight smile. "It's alright, Dewey. There was so much chaos going on at the time that I don't blame you for not hearing me." 

"I'm just glad you're okay. We thought the killer got you or you were still in the house." His brows turned upwards with sad brown eyes staring down at you. He put his hand firmly on your shoulder, squeezing while shaking his head. "If anything happened to you…" 

You put a hand over his, smiling up at him. "Hey, I'm tough stuff Dewey. It's going to take more than that to off me." 

He forced a smile before squeezing your shoulder one last time before leaning close to whisper to you. He shielded you a bit near the wall as he gave you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry…The Detective wants to talk to you…I think it's time to talk whether we like it or not, YN." 

You sighed and rubbed your eyes. A bandage on your right hand where the killer slashed you. You were stitched up after a quick visit to the hospital and the gash on your head was thankfully superficial. It had been a whole day in a half of practically no sleep and at this point the floor looked like a good spot. The sooner you did this, the sooner you could crash and rest even for a few short hours. 

You dropped your hands to your sides and nodded. "Okay…Okay, let's get this over with." 

'I just hope my lack of sleep doesn't make me say something stupid.' You thought as Dewey led you to the office down the hall. 

You could hear Randy talking as you got closer. 

"She already gave statement after statement and testimony after testimony for the last 5 years straight. What more do you want? You want to know the color of Stu's socks that night or what she had for breakfast that morning? Will that crack the code?" 

You walked in to see a bulletin board filled with map connected pieces, photos of familiar faces and little notes. Randy spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice, arms folded as he leaned against a wall. His usually styled up medium length hair falling near his face with a scratch on his cheek. You couldn't help eyeing him…That scratch on the same spot as the scar you gave Billy. Just seeing it gave you an uncomfortable flashback of being cornered in that shed. Gale looked a bit better, a gash barely concealed by her short bangs near her temple.

 A scratched up Randy and Gale stood on opposite sides of the room as a young man with a badge stood near the board. Medium length dark wavy hair, blue eyes, handsome face, tall. Possibly in his late 20's to early 30's; younger than you expected for a Detective.

"She might know something; Something that we missed. I'd appreciate it if you lost the sarcasm in your voice, Mr. Meeks. Four people are dead." 

"I understand asking her about last night, alright, I do…But why the fuck does Stu's midnight massacre matter NOW? I'm telling you both, cops NEVER get it right! There were two killers that night; Billy and Stu. We saw them!"