AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Looks like our man. He’s the only guy here without a bandana.’
The bartender returned and slid two drinks across the bar. Ella nodded her thanks, then turned her attention back to the lone figure nestled in the corner. She scanned the bar for exit points in case her suspect tried to flee, and she concluded there were only two ways he could escape. The odds were in her favor. Ella grabbed her drink and neared the table, her senses on high alert. She knew that approaching a potential suspect, especially in a public setting, required a delicate balance of caution and confidence. The lessons from her academy days, coupled with her experiences on the field, guided her every step.
The man seemed engrossed in his drink, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid swirling in the glass. He didn't avert his attention in the wake of oncoming footsteps, allowing Ella a closer look at the man.
Lucas Trent, though only thirty-six, bore the weathered face of someone who had lived a life far beyond his years. His skin was rugged, tanned and lined, telling stories of hardship and outdoor toil. His head was shaved, revealing a scalp that had seen its share of the sun. He wore a dirty t-shirt that clung to his muscular-but-gaunt frame, and weighty boots that could anchor a person to the ocean floor.
‘Mr. Trent?’ Ella said. She slid into the seat opposite him without invitation.
‘Yeah?’ asked Lucas, his attention jumping between the new arrivals.
'I'm Agent Dark, and this is Agent Ripley. We'd like to talk with you.' Ella maintained a composed demeanor, aware that her approach had to be both direct and tactful. She kept the term FBI out of her mouth for now, mindful of the public setting.
Lucas's expression didn't change much, but his eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of curiosity mingling with caution. ‘What's this about?’ he asked, his gaze shifting briefly towards Ripley, who remained close but unobtrusive.
‘We're investigating a series of incidents involving some people you might know. Your name came up in connection with Demi Hart, Mark Jensen, and Miles Rampell.’ Ella watched him closely for any reaction.
The mention of the names seemed to stiffen Lucas's posture, a subtle shift, but noticeable to an observant eye. ‘Demi Hart?’ His tone carried a note of surprise, or perhaps feigned ignorance. ‘Haven't heard that name in years. What's she got to do with me now?’
Ella leaned forward slightly, keeping her voice even. ‘Well, Mr. Trent, it's a bit complicated. There have been some recent events that have led us back to your past connections with these individuals. We're just trying to piece things together.’
Lucas took a slow breath, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. ‘Look, whatever happened back then, it's history. I moved on, they moved on. What's this got to do with now?’
Ella could sense the layers of defense in his words, the careful neutrality. Ella utilized all of her body-reading skills in one swoop and concluded that Trent was an open book in many aspects. His attempts at casual disinterest couldn't mask the underlying tension in his body. The mention of the victims' names had triggered a noticeable reaction; his posture had become rigid, and his eyes had darted away momentarily, a classic sign of discomfort or concealment.
‘Mr. Trent, I think you already know,’ she said.
‘Know what?’ Lucas grinned, revealing two rows of stained teeth.
Ella looked him up and down. ‘Come on. ‘I can read you like A Catcher in the Rye. Don’t pretend you don’t know what’s going on.’ She hoped the mention of a famous novel – one that teens were usually forced to read during high school English – would give him the hint. As someone not far removed from Lucas’ age group, she remembered the days of dissecting the book well.
Lucas knocked back what remained of his drink then slammed the glass down with unnecessary force. ‘Alright, yeah. I heard about it. And what?’
Ella sensed a change in his demeanor. She’d made him itch. ‘Heard about what?’
‘Demi, Mark. Hard to miss the news.’ Lucas’ voice was tinged with a bitter undertone, his words hanging in the air with a mix of resignation and defiance. Ella leaned in closer, her eyes never leaving his.
Ripley jumped in, ‘You don’t seem too beat up about it.’
Ella studied him, noting the subtle shifts in his expression, the fleeting glances, the way his hands gripped the empty glass a little too tightly.
‘Couldn’t care less,’ Lucas said.
‘How come?’
Lucas sat back, arms folded, biceps clutched unnaturally. ‘Look, I know we’re all supposed to act upset when someone dies, but Demi and Mark deserved everything they got. Pair of jerks that did nothing but fail upwards.’
Ella sensed a hint of jealousy. A possible motive for murder?
‘You were old friends with them,’ she said. A statement disguised as a question.
‘Mark? No. We weren’t friends. Me and Demi had a thing a long time ago.’
‘You seem to have strong feelings about them,’ Ella observed, her voice steady. ‘Care to elaborate on why you feel they deserved what happened?’
Lucas's jaw tensed, his eyes hardening. ‘You wouldn't understand. People like them, they skate through life. Making others miserable, never facing consequences. I... I faced consequences.’
‘Then maybe you shouldn’t hit your girlfriend,’ Ella probed.
