If you're looking for an adventure in the morally grey, and a crash course of the human condition, this is the story for you! What is good and evil? Where is that line drawn, and who decides that? Packed with humor, danger, feels, and awkward relati...
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"Back to business then. Which of you killed the girl?" Rosanne said to the whole room, but no one responded. Even Rick's amused smirk fell to only an upturned defiant curl of his lips. "None of you? This girl was twenty-three and brutalized coming home from her place of employment. Then she was relieved of parts of her appendages and her eyes, chopped up, and tossed into the river under the old bridge."
"You do know that you have an active crime syndicate in the city, don't you? People are murdered all the time." Allen spoke, surprising Nathan. "Are you knocking on the Moceris' door and asking them too? Or is it just the LC Penitentiary? Do you even have something that might indicate that it was someone here or are you grasping at straws?"
"We need no reason to conduct a thorough investigation," Rosanne snapped. "But this girl had no ties to the Moceris. Yes, we fish out bodies too often with the Moceris, but most can be traced back to something about them."
"So you have nothing but your bias then. What do you hope to gain here?" Allen was speaking for them, which was strange to Nathan. So far, Maggie had been the forefront of their defense, but she was silent and allowing Allen to direct this.
Nathan found his mind dipping back to the woman who was photographed in pieces on the table. Ian wouldn't let him look at them. If Nathan's chin even tilted away from him, Ian turned it back into his shirt.
Twenty-three. The poor girl was in college most like, maybe she had a boyfriend, maybe she didn't. Had she been thinking about what she would spend her money on she had left over from bills? Maybe she'd had friends she'd planned to go out with, but they'd never heard from her again.
The images were hard to get out of his mind. It wasn't something he'd ever wanted to look at. It reminded him of his mother when she was younger–working jobs with awkward hours and always walking into sketchy parts of town just to make ends meet.
The woman on the table could be his mother. When was the last time he had spoken to his mother? Nathan trembled in Ian's arms, and Ian squeezed him tighter. All Nathan wanted to do was hide from this, but there was nowhere to go.
"None of the men here would commit a crime that atrocious." Maggie's tone was hard, drawing Nathan back into their conversation.
"You can provide concrete details and proof for their alibis from noon until seven pm of this past Monday?" The woman asked.
"Some, not all."
The woman tapped the armrest in anger with her fingers, and the men on either side of her stiffened. The way they were dressed and carried themselves made them look like the secret service from the movies. Nathan guessed they all had firearms and would wipe everyone out in the room if they appeared hostile.
"Why not all? Do you not keep track of them?" It was an accusation at Maggie.
"I entered the camera guarded and gated home of Oliver Moceri at around eleven am and was there until six pm when I departed." Tanner spoke. "You'll be able to see me arrive and depart, and Maggie can account for me afterwards. I was here in only the time it would take to get home. I wouldn't have had the time to brutally murder anyone."
