Biking In Blood (Ft. Jokey223)

II

"He's right, I'm innocent, and I have proof!" Sean exclaimed. "I have a video tape recording me biking because I deliver newspapers."
"Tell ya what, kid. If you can prove to me that you're innocent in the next forty-eight hours, you'll be clean off the suspect list."
"Oh, sir, I won't make you doubt!" Sean exclaimed a bit louder than he anticipated.
"Now get ya out of here, we've got some investigating to do! By the by, we have yer bike as evidence and we're gonna need it till those forty-eight hours are over."
"Oh, okay, but I need it to get back home." Sean explained.
"We've got ya covered. There's a police car outside waitin' to take ya home. Roger'll show ya out."
"Thank you so much, officer!" Sean nearly shouted with relief.
"Don't worry 'bout it. There's my business card." The old man stated bluntly, tossing the blue-eyed boy a small square of paper. Sean caught it in one hand, but as he did something seemed off about the whole situation. A burly man wearing officer's garb grabbed his elbow, and Damien followed them out. As they left, Sean risked one last glance back at the officer who had questioned him. As he slumped into the car seat, something seemed different. His escort got into the driver's seat, and Damien got into the other back seat. As they drove, he looked out of the window. Everything seemed so beautiful. It was difficult to believe that on these same streets a murder took place. It can back to him what had happened here yesterday. He remembered then, when he had been so carefree. Now it felt like he had a bag of bricks on his shoulders. Sean felt like he was under pressure. It didn't feel good. How was he going to prove to the detective that he was innocent? He looked down at the business card that he had absentmindedly been rubbing with his thumb. The card was hot as his sweaty hands. He thought, what is my family going to say? He was suddenly overcome with guilt, as he hadn't given them a second thought since last night. His Mom would be furious with him. It was then he decided that he wouldn't go home until he could prove himself innocent of his crimes. The car stopped to let Damien out. Damien didn't even look at Sean as he left the car. Sean climbed out of the car, simply telling his escort,
    "I'll get out here, officer."
    "I was assigned to take you home," The officer retorted gruffly.
    "Umm . . ." Sean began, racking his brain for an excuse. "This is my home. Uh, yeah, right over there." He pointed to a white house with a black steeply sloped roof.
    "It is?" The officer asked. It was quite obvious to Sean that he was unconvinced.
    "Of course! Uh, I think you're thinking of my mom's house. That's my dad's." Sean replied uneasily.
    "Are your parents divorced?" The officer, Roger, apparently, asked.
    "Yeah . . ." Began Sean unconvincingly. "You're asking a bit too many personal questions."
    "Well, as an officer I have to ask questions."
    "You're getting a bit too personal, though. It's making me uncomfortable." Sean said, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He couldn't see the officer's eyes from behind his dark sunglasses, but they seemed fixed on him with a steely gaze.
    "Mr. Mcloughlin, go on, go to your house. As soon as he said that Sean ran out of the car until he got up to the house. He ducked behind a supportive column, out of the view of the car, and waited until it drove away. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. He ran fast and went past the house and turned onto a different street. He ducked into an alleyway to catch his breath, ready to prove himself innocent.
    "Let's get down to business," He murmured under his breath. One hour down. Forty seven more to go.