Untitled: Part II

“…Cassidy Pruett,” Grove said to Jack, “She’s dead. We have reason to believe you killed her.”

     “I never killed anyone,” Jack said calmly, focusing on the microphone in front of him. His hands were in his lap now and he was leaning slightly forward.

     “It was your gun,” Grove said sternly.

     “That wasn’t my gun,” Jack said.

     “Ahh…” Grove said sitting up from the table.

     He walked around the chair where Jack was sitting and put his arms on Jack’s shoulders. Leaning in close to his ear, Grove whispered, “But you know about… your fingerprints are all over it.”

     “Check the registration,” Jack said without flinching, “…the gun doesn’t belong to me.”

     “You still could have fired it,” Grove continued.

     “I didn’t… fire… that gun…” Jack said lightly clenching his teeth.

     “Okay, so you didn’t,” Grove said walking away from Jack, “…but your buddies are saying they saw you… they saw you pull the trigger… they saw her… they saw you…”

     Grove paused for a moment looking through the mirror. Without turning around, but looking at Jack’s reflection, he continued, “…they saw you… kill her…”

     “Wait a minute…” Charles said to Royce outside the room, “I never got a confession out of the others.”

     “It’s okay,” Royce assured Charles, “This is how Grove works.”

     Grove turned away from the mirror and walked towards the front of the table, pulling the chair out from under the table and taking a seat, groaning as he sat down.

     “Look, Jack…” Grove said, “…you’re not helping yourself out by sitting here not talking.”

     “I have nothing to say,” Jack said, “…YOUR buddies keep antagonizing me… asking me questions I don’t have an answer to. I told you… I told them… I didn’t shoot anyone. I don’t want any part in this.”

     “Jack… Jack… Listen…” Grove said, “You were there. That makes you part of this… whether you like it or not, you’re in deep.”

     “I didn’t kill her,” Jack said again, slumping in his chair and crossing his arms.

     “Fine… You didn’t kill her,” Grove agreed, “…but if you didn’t kill her…”

     Grove paused, eyeing Jack who wasn’t making any eye contact.

     “If you didn’t kill her,” Grove continued, “…then who did?”

     Jack never broke his gaze. He said nothing.

     “Why her?” Grove asked. “What did you… or your buddies… have to gain by kidnapping her?”

     “Nothing…” Jack said quietly.

     “What was that?” Grove asked, leaning forward.

     “I said… Nothing,” Jack said looking up at Grove, “It wasn’t for us.”

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2″>     Jack sat up in his chair, eyeing the glass of water that had been tempting him since the moment he was seated at this table. Grove caught Jack eyeing the glass of water. Grabbing the glass, Grove poured the contents onto the floor.

     “Here…” Grove said pulling a bottle of water from his jacket pocket, “…have this.”

     Jack eagerly went to grab the bottle, but Grove snatched it away.

     “On one condition…” Grove said, “Tell me what you know.”

     Jack retracted his reach, returning his hands to his lap.

     “Come on, Jack…” Grove continued, “…Who are you scared of? Me?”

     “No,” Jack said.

     “I figured as much,” Grove chuckled.

     Grove stood up from his chair, letting his joints cackle and crackle with every movement. After thirty-five years in this line of work, Grove was ready to hang up the towel. Without a legacy to leave behind him, he felt his time had come to let the younger generation take over; but he wanted to see this case through.

     “All right,” Jack said, stopping Grove’s train of thoughts.

     “Come again?” Grove asked.

     “Okay… I’ll tell you…” Jack said, “On one condition…”

     “Jack, I don’t think you’re in the position to negotiate,” Grove sternly stated.

     “I believe I am in the perfect situation to negotiate,” Jack insisted.

     “Okay then… Let’s here what you have to negotiate,” Grove said taking a seat.

     “No recording… What I tell you…” Jack said, “Stays here.”

     “Hmmm…,” Grove thought for a moment.

     Meanwhile, outside the room, Charles and Royce were beginning to argue over Grove’s methods.

     “He can’t be serious…” Charles said loudly.

     “Keep your voice down,” Royce said, “Grove knows what he’s doing.”

     “The hell he does! He’s about to get a confession from this bastard and we’re not even going to record it?” Charles questioned.

     “Relax, Charles… Grove hasn’t agreed yet,” Royce insisted.

     “Look at him! Just look!” Charles said exasperated.

     “I am…” Royce said beginning to believe Charles was right.

     Maybe Grove was getting soft in his old age, Royce thought to himself.

     Even though he had been with Grove for the last five years, he never knew him to give in so easily; or at least even consider giving in that easily. However, Royce was always trusting with Grove’s methods regardless the situation.

     “I’m going in there,” Charles barked, “I’m not gonna let this one slip.”

     “No, Charles!” Royce said grabbing Charles by the jacket.</p

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     “Royce, I’m warning you…” Charles said, “Let go…”

     Royce released his grip from Charles’ jacket.

     “You said, ‘this one,’” Royce asked, “What did you mean by that?” 
     “Nothing,” Charles said opening the door to the room.

     Grove turned in his chair to face the door that Charles had just opened. Grove acted a little surprised, but had expected someone to interfere.

     “Hi, Jack,” Charles said with a grin on his face.

     “You must be Charles,” Grove said standing up to greet him.

     His outstretched hand was ignored. Grove took it as a sign of disrespect. He knew immediately that he did not like this detective.

[to be continued…]