Not to the Swift

Chapter 10

Rodriguez leaned forward and interrupted the deposition. "Officer Mason isn't going to answer that question. That would be self-incriminating, and you're well aware of his rights. So I suggest you try a different approach."

Mason sat, hands in his lap, hunched over in the central seat at the table—the only fixture in the bland, slate gray room.

The lawyer representing the District Attorney's office sighed. "Okay, okay, tell me, once you realized the weapon you believed you saw was actually a harmless cellphone, what's the next step you took?"

Chris looked at Rodriguez for confirmation before he spoke. "I called in the correction, that a probable unarmed civilian had been shot by a responding officer. Then I tried to administer aid."

"And your story is the unarmed teen held out his hands toward you in a threatening manner? You didn't attempt to subdue or intimidate him through non-lethal means?"

"No, my story is I saw a black object in his right hand, which he extended toward me, and I thought it was a weapon. I was under fire from a different gunman, and I responded with lethal force to what I perceived as a threat."

Rodriguez stepped in before the DA's representative could ask anything else. "Officer Mason answered everything you need for your investigation. With respect, we're done here."

"I still have questions about the initial response and number of shots fired, leading up to the wounding of Officer Kazsinski. When did—"

"Without respect, we are done here."

An escorting officer opened the door and called the DA rep out of the room.

The captain peeked in. "Candi, can I have a minute with Chris?"

Rodriguez nodded and stepped out of the room.

Captain McCullough stopped her before she disappeared from view. He said something too quiet for Chris to hear, and Rodriguez whispered a few curses. She stormed off with a clear and urgent purpose.

Captain McCullough swept in and took a seat. "Okay, Mason. First things first. How are you holding up?"

"Been better, sir," Chris said. "How's the boy?"

The captain paused. "I know this is hard, but you'll get through this, son." He leaned back and stared at Chris for a moment. "That said, I need your weapon. As of right now, you're suspended from duty. You'll stay on the payroll while the investigation proceeds, but I can't have you out there on the streets with... everything that's going on."

Chris nodded. "It's in the armory right now." You didn't answer my question.

"Good, good. Okay. So... you wanna talk?" The captain sat, hands folded on the table, shoulders bowed with the burden of responsibility.

Chris read the concern in Captain McCullough's eyes. He knows there's going to be hell to pay for this. I can see the weight of what's coming settling on him.

"Sure, I wanna talk," Chris replied. "Starting with my first question. Did he survive?"

Captain McCullough glanced down at the table, lips pursed. His head shook gently.

Oh God, I killed an unarmed kid. The shock washed over Chris like freezing rain, chilling his spirit. With an emotionless, analytical point of view, he contemplated his reaction to the news. I expected this. And I expected to be broken up about it. But I'm just... numb.

What kind of monster am I?

"His name was Chris, too," the captain said. "Christopher Washington. Fourteen."