Walking the Gallows ✔️

Chapter 22

Andy POV

"Do you want to explain to me why you're so wasteful?" The detective asked his question in a serious tone but the doctor furrowed his eyebrows questioningly. They looked at each other then back at Andy with the intent of hearing a logical explanation.

"What?" He answered in a question. Obviously, neither of the men appreciated it. It was almost amusing how odd the scenario was. His eyes looked to theirs for some sort of clarification. They acted as if their query was plain and simple.

"Why would you throw so much fruit at your neighbor's house?" Again, Andy was left dumbfounded. He had never said anything about throwing fruit previously. Had someone else accused him of such a crime? If it wasn't bad enough he was being charged with murder and assault, they were going to try and accuse him of throwing fruit?

"I've never thrown anything at anyone's house. What are you talking about?" Doctor Martin narrowed his eyes at Detective Miller annoyed.

They had brought him in late in the afternoon before, Andy assumed, the sun would set. He hadn't seen the sky in so long that he had forgotten when it appeared in the day or disappeared back into the Earth at night. Neither Dr. Martin Hall or Detective Brian Miller had said a word as they ordered the guard to tie him to the interrogation room table once again.

"We found rotting mangos at the base of your shared fence. It was all on Earl's side." Somehow, the doctor's explanation only made things more confusing. What would that have anything to do with them? Why had they been in Earl's home to begin with? Andy's eyes went wide with hope.

"Does that mean you found him? He was back home and you caught him there?" He knew that his desires were far from likely, but he prayed that any day would be his last in the amp cell he had to call home. His suspicions were answered when the doctor gave him a look that said "no".

How they must pity me, he thought. He was a wreck and if he knew it, surely they would too. Though it was the least of his problems, he deserved a hot meal at the very least. He was used to cooking for himself or Tony bringing meals to his house because he couldn't go into his mother's restaurant. Andy had cooperated every step of the way, not once tried to escape and had been as nice as he could bear. For some reason, it counted for nothing at all and he was exhausted.

"How long have I been in here?" He asked the questions with his head lowered to the table. If his hands were not tied in such a way, he would have been able to rest his face in his palms but even that wasn't a luxury he could afford.

They looked at him strangely. It was rare to find a prisoner who had not been counting the days since their first night in the holding cells, Andy knew that. Every criminal who had walked out to freedom ahead of him had celebrated only a few hours or days of containment. However, it would have been well over a couple of days for him. It was too many to keep track of.

"I think it's about time you started being honest with me." It was not a question, but a demand. Andy had come to a point where he could no longer overlook the evident signs. They had been keeping him a secret from the public, and they had also been withholding crucial information about his case. No one but Courtney had tried to explain to him the day he supposedly attacked her.

They had searched Earl's home without speaking to Andy about it until afterward. They refused to talk to him about information regarding the case that he had to offer if they did not want to believe him, and then would show up to question him about things that he had no answers for. It seemed more likely that they didn't care about finding who was really reponsible for all of the deaths and just needed a person to pin the blame on to keep the worries of the public at bay. Until the next murder, that is.