THE UNSEEN SHADOW

THE INVESTIGATION

Detective James leaned in, his eyes fixed on Jack like a hawk on its prey. "Listen, Jack. We have evidence linking you to Lisa's murder. A witness placed you at the scene." Jack's mind raced like a runaway train as he tried to piece together the events of that fateful night. He remembered being at the Silver Stag, but everything after that was a blur, like a painting smeared by a wet brush. He knew he had to prove his innocence, but how?

"I didn't do it!" Jack protested, trying to keep his voice steady, like a tightrope walker balancing on a thin wire. "I barely knew Lisa! I was just trying to help her out, that's all."

Detective James raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical, like a teacher correcting a student's mistake. "Help her out? Really, Jack? Then why were you arguing with her at the Silver Stag?"

The interrogation continued, with Detective James grilling Jack about his whereabouts that night and his relationship with Lisa. Jack stuck to his story, but he could tell Detective James wasn’t buying it.

Detective James leaned back, a stern expression etched on his face. “We found your cigarette butt at the crime scene, Jack. And you were one of the last people to see her alive.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! I barely knew her!” Jack protested, his voice rising.

Jack's mind raced, trying to think of a way to prove his innocence. He knew he had to find out who was behind the framing and murder. But how? He felt like a detective trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.

"I didn't do it!" Jack protested again, his voice rising like a bird taking flight. "I barely knew Lisa! I was just trying to help her with a problem at work. She was worried about reporting some financial irregularities and I offered to help her dig through the company's files."

Detective James sighed, his expression a mix of frustration and disappointment, like a coach whose team was losing a game. "Jack, come on. We have witnesses who say otherwise. You're not making this easy for yourself."

The woman officer hesitated, glancing at Jack before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper. "The witness also mentioned something about a mysterious figure lurking around the Silver Stag that night. Someone who might have had a grudge against Lisa."

Detective James's eyes narrowed, his focus sharpening like a knife being honed. "Go on."

The woman officer nodded, her eyes locked on Jack's. "The witness said this figure was tall, with a scar on his cheek. He was seen arguing with Lisa earlier in the night."

Jack's mind raced, trying to place the mysterious figure. He didn't remember anyone like that from the bar. But then again, he had been pretty drunk that night, his memories hazy like a foggy morning.

Detective James turned to Jack, his expression unyielding. "Do you know anyone who fits that description, Jack?"

Jack shook his head, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in. "No, I don't. But maybe someone from the bar remembers something?"

Detective James nodded, his expression softening slightly. "We'll look into it. In the meantime, Jack, you're still our prime suspect. Don't think for a second that this changed anything."

Jack sighed, feeling a sense of frustration wash over him like a wave crashing on the shore. He knew he was innocent, but no one seemed to believe him. The interrogation continued, with Detective James grilling Jack about his whereabouts that night and his relationship with Lisa. Jack stuck to his story, but he could tell Detective James wasn't buying it.

As the interrogation ended and Jack was led back to his cell, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was running out of time. He had to find a way to clear his name and bring the real killer to justice. Who was this mysterious figure with a scar? And why were they trying to frame him for Lisa's murder? Jack knew he had to find out, before it was too late. As he lay on his cot, Jack couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He was trapped in a nightmare, and he didn't know how to escape. But he knew one thing – he had to keep fighting, no matter what. He was innocent, and he would prove it, no matter what it took.