The Drifter

C H A P T E R 5 4

C H A P T E R F I F T Y – F O U R
Unpredictability

"I'm going to be late for my internship."

Detective Larkins shook his head. "I've called Mr Havens." He continued to walk ahead without even glancing back at me. "I need to interview you, Addison. You were the last to see Marley alive. It's protocol."

As soon as the doctor realised the IV had been spiked with morphine, he'd called the cops and Detective Larkins showed up, accompanied, within the next five minutes. The second he'd spotted me, he sighed. "Do you realise how close you've consistently been to peril?" he asked me, and I figured the question was rhetorical because when I offered no answer, he didn't prompt me for one.

Detective Larkins had escorted me to the station whilst the other officers he'd arrived with interrogated the nurses and doctors, examining the room for any sign of remnants or traces from whoever had spiked the IV... unless it was one of the staff who had done it. The thought had crossed my mind, but no one in their right mind would do that, surely?

My assumption – and yours too probably – was Marley's abductor – and everyone's murderer – had slipped into the room when I'd left and spiked it. That meant that they were waiting outside the room for me to leave. Did they anticipate that I'd come back into the room? Were they listening to us converse?

"Interview with Addison Mar commencing at eight-forty-nine." Detective Larkins checked his watch, having pressed a button on the tape recorder to record this interrogation, though it all felt bizarrely formal and deterring. "What did you and Marley speak about?"

As I was eighteen and never even dared to flirt with law-breaking, the police had to supply me with their default lawyer. She was professional – wearing a complete pantsuit despite the heat outside (a storm was imminent, according to weather reports). Her hair was in a severe bob and she wore little to no makeup. She smiled at me and offered her hand, firmly shaking mine. She didn't explain anything to me before the interview began, but I was a witness, not a suspect. I had to remember that.

This felt like déjà vu – being in an interrogation room. It was similar to the one in West Creek Files, though this time I categorically knew someone was going to be on the other side of the mirror. Glancing at it, I wondered if I could make out any shape. Any darkness. But just like all the movies that feature interrogations akin to this one, I couldn't see shit.

"Don't be nervous, Addison," Detective Larkins said calmly. "None of us believe you're behind this. We just want to know what Marley knew. She spoke to an officer last night, but we can't be sure she told us everything she told you." He offered a smile to me as I glanced back at him which was a rarity. He was a professional man and I seldom witnessed a smile from him.

I nodded, wringing my hands together in my lap under the table. They were clammy due to the nervousness from being inside an interrogation room. "She told me that whoever it was asked for information about me. About my parents and what I knew about the recent crimes." I shrugged. "And she told me she was dropped off near the garage and was told she was given a head start otherwise she'd... die. Like with Olympia."

Detective Larkins nodded at me slowly, following along with every word. "How did she seem to you before you went to the bathroom?"

"Fine. She was upholding a proper conversation and even sat up."

"So something could have happened when you left?"

"I think so."

He then proceeded to query what I knew about Marley. I could offer him only "I didn't really know her in high school: I'd never spoken to her before" and found myself unable to answer a disproportionate amount of his questions. He continued to nod and in the end said, "That's okay. I think this is the end now. Interview terminating with Addison Mar at nine-oh-eight." He had to glance at his watch again.