Page 14
Story: The First Hunt
He sounded angry, and it reminded John of his dad when his temper threatened to seep out.
Detective Harris frowned. “Fine.” He stood and turned to Peretti before opening the door. “But the kid’s not talking. I already tried.”
Detective Peretti smiled at John. “I had a great talk with your dad. He said I could ask you a few questions before you go.”
Andy looked warily between Peretti and John, lingering in the open doorway.
“Oh.” Peretti reached into his suit jacket pocket and withdrew a can of Coke and a Skor Bar. “Here. Your dad said you might be hungry.” John took the candy bar—his favorite—and pop can. He looked up at Detective Peretti as he tore open the candy bar wrapper. “You sure my dad said you could question me?”
Harris spun around to face Peretti after he stepped into the hall. “Look, I don’t think you should—”
Ignoring Harris, Peretti closed the door and turned the lock on the handle. “Yes, he did.”
“Why are you locking the door?”
Detective Peretti took the older detective’s place in the seat across from him. “Just to be safe. We have criminals here.”
His dad’s warning on the drive here echoed through his mind.Cops cannot be trusted.
“I had a great talk with your dad.” The detective leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, which pulled his suit jacket tight around his biceps. “Has your dad ever picked up any women off the street?”
John bit into the chocolate-covered butter toffee.
Peretti cocked his head. “To give them a ride…or anything?”
John glanced at the locked door while he chewed. “Whereismy dad?”
“He’s just waiting while I talk to you.”
“I know my rights.” John popped the rest of the delicious candy bar into his mouth. “I don’t have to answer anything.”
Peretti smirked. “You been watchingMurder, She Wrote, kid?” He sat back and crossed his bulky arms. “Well, you’re right. I can’t force you to talk to me. But helping the police is always the right thing to do. You want to do the right thing, don’t you, John?”
John opened the pop can and took a swig. It was the first time the detective had used his name. John stared back at the detective in silence, his father’s warning about police at the front of his mind.
“Have you seen the movieTheTerminator?” the detective asked.
John stopped to think when the last Green River Killer victim had gone missing. The one who’d been found in the woods wherehis dad had taken him today. November 23rd. John studied the detective who waited eagerly for his response.He’s checking my dad’s alibi.
“Yes.”
“Oh, yeah? Me too. I loved it.” He grinned. “What was your favorite part?”
John didn’t have to think about it. “When Arnold Schwarzenegger was naked and fought those guys three on one to take their clothes.”
The detective’s smile faded. “You see it at home?”
John shook his head. “The theater.”
“Do you remember when?”
“The day after Thanksgiving.”
The detective bit his lip. “And who’d you see it with?”
“My dad.”
“Nice. Did you two do anything else that day? Like go for any drives?”
Detective Harris frowned. “Fine.” He stood and turned to Peretti before opening the door. “But the kid’s not talking. I already tried.”
Detective Peretti smiled at John. “I had a great talk with your dad. He said I could ask you a few questions before you go.”
Andy looked warily between Peretti and John, lingering in the open doorway.
“Oh.” Peretti reached into his suit jacket pocket and withdrew a can of Coke and a Skor Bar. “Here. Your dad said you might be hungry.” John took the candy bar—his favorite—and pop can. He looked up at Detective Peretti as he tore open the candy bar wrapper. “You sure my dad said you could question me?”
Harris spun around to face Peretti after he stepped into the hall. “Look, I don’t think you should—”
Ignoring Harris, Peretti closed the door and turned the lock on the handle. “Yes, he did.”
“Why are you locking the door?”
Detective Peretti took the older detective’s place in the seat across from him. “Just to be safe. We have criminals here.”
His dad’s warning on the drive here echoed through his mind.Cops cannot be trusted.
“I had a great talk with your dad.” The detective leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, which pulled his suit jacket tight around his biceps. “Has your dad ever picked up any women off the street?”
John bit into the chocolate-covered butter toffee.
Peretti cocked his head. “To give them a ride…or anything?”
John glanced at the locked door while he chewed. “Whereismy dad?”
“He’s just waiting while I talk to you.”
“I know my rights.” John popped the rest of the delicious candy bar into his mouth. “I don’t have to answer anything.”
Peretti smirked. “You been watchingMurder, She Wrote, kid?” He sat back and crossed his bulky arms. “Well, you’re right. I can’t force you to talk to me. But helping the police is always the right thing to do. You want to do the right thing, don’t you, John?”
John opened the pop can and took a swig. It was the first time the detective had used his name. John stared back at the detective in silence, his father’s warning about police at the front of his mind.
“Have you seen the movieTheTerminator?” the detective asked.
John stopped to think when the last Green River Killer victim had gone missing. The one who’d been found in the woods wherehis dad had taken him today. November 23rd. John studied the detective who waited eagerly for his response.He’s checking my dad’s alibi.
“Yes.”
“Oh, yeah? Me too. I loved it.” He grinned. “What was your favorite part?”
John didn’t have to think about it. “When Arnold Schwarzenegger was naked and fought those guys three on one to take their clothes.”
The detective’s smile faded. “You see it at home?”
John shook his head. “The theater.”
“Do you remember when?”
“The day after Thanksgiving.”
The detective bit his lip. “And who’d you see it with?”
“My dad.”
“Nice. Did you two do anything else that day? Like go for any drives?”
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