AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Rachel took a deep breath, her heart still pounding from the adrenaline rush. They had caught Boyd, but the chase had left her feeling raw and exposed. She could feel the sweat on her skin and the grit in her teeth as she surveyed the scene. The wreckage of the car lay twisted and smoking, a testament to the danger they faced.
Rachel knew that they had been lucky this time. If the car had hit her head-on, she might not have made it out alive.
But he’d veered.
She’d made the call, and she’d been right. This time.
Ethan was speaking into his radio, his voice low and urgent. Rachel could hear the distant sound of approaching sirens, the cavalry on its way. She looked around, taking in the scene—the burnt-out car, the twisted metal, the shattered glass—and felt a twinge of sadness.
She pictured the victims. Soaked in oil, just like the Corvette was now.
As the sound of the sirens grew louder, Rachel turned to Ethan. “Let’s get him out of here before we have to tangle with local PD for jurisdiction.”
Ethan nodded, his eyes scanning the wreckage one last time before he helped pull Boyd to his feet.
The cuffed man did little to protest, still scowling as he was pushed forward, ushered toward Ethan’s waiting vehicle.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The dimly lit interrogation room seemed to close in on itself, creating an oppressive atmosphere that weighed heavily upon its occupants. A single flickering fluorescent bulb cast a pallid glow over the sparse furnishings: a cold metal table and two chairs that looked like they’d been through one too many interrogations themselves. Rachel sat across from Boyd, who was handcuffed to the table.
Boyd was every inch the street racer—lean, muscular, with angular features that gave him a predatory air. His dark hair was slicked back, revealing a tattoo of a black panther that snaked up his neck and behind his ear. His eyes were a piercing green, framed by a pair of dark, arched eyebrows that lent him an aura of defiance. Beneath the surface, however, there was an undercurrent of fear that couldn’t quite be hidden. Sweat glistened on his brow, and his hands trembled ever so slightly as they gripped the edge of the table. A faint cut stretched across his forehead, down to the corner of his jaw.
“Look, I ain’t sayin’ another word till my lawyer’s here,” Boyd rasped, his voice hoarse and shaky. The tension in the room grew palpable.
“Fine,” Rachel replied, her voice steady and calm despite the growing pressure.
Boyd glanced at her for a moment, then quickly averted his gaze, swallowing hard. “I want… I want my lawyer,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper now.
Rachel leaned back in her chair and narrowed her eyes, studying Boyd’s nervous demeanor. His forehead was sheened with sweat, and he darted his eyes around the dimly lit room like a cornered animal searching for an escape.
“I’m not going to ask you any questions,” she said slowly. She reached up, plucking her hat off her head and lowering it onto the table next to her.
His eyes followed it.
“I just think better speaking out loud,” she said.
She turned away from him, as if she were addressing the mirror. “And I wonder,” she said slowly, “if it’s true that a phone call was made from your address to one of our murder victims. In fact, multiple phone calls.”
He tensed. “Hang on…”
“Hush,” she said, frowning at him. “I’m not talking to you. You want your lawyer, remember?”
She looked away from him again. Then, in a softer voice, as if she were simply musing aloud, she said, “I wonder why it is that Boyd might have made those calls… and with his criminal record? It’s certainly a checkered past.”
“Now wait just a minute!” snapped the street racer.
She continued. “And hestillflouts the law. Nearly creating a collision with the police. He’d rather flee than face what he’s done. Yes.” She nodded gravely. “Yes, yes—I can’t help but think he must be involved somehow.”
At the sound of her voice, Boyd flinched, as if her words physically hurt him. His hands shook violently, rattling the handcuffs against the metal table. Rachel couldn’t help but wonder what had caused such a visceral reaction in him.
“Please,” Boyd whispered, his voice cracking under the strain. “I can’t… I don’t know anything.”
“Then why are you so scared?” Rachel asked, her tone gentle yet probing. She leaned forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze. “We all make mistakes, Boyd. It’s how we learn and grow. But we can’t move past them unless we face them head-on.”
For a fleeting moment, his eyes locked onto hers, and Rachel saw a glimmer of something—desperation, perhaps, or even hope—before he quickly looked away again. The fear was still stamped across his face, but there was the slightest hint of determination now as well.
“Look, I… I just need my lawyer, okay?” Boyd said, his voice steadier than before, though still tinged with anxiety. “Then maybe… maybe we can sort this out.”
