DETECTIVE COPLER’S
He was in the investigation room with the man and his son as they faced interrogation from him and his men.
“I repeat, which of you attacked me?”
The man let out a mocking laugh. “I told you nigga, you ain’t getting a word from us. We know our rights and we are not gonna say a word until my lawyer arrives.”
Copler sighed in frustration as he stared from father to son. Since their arrest, they have both refused to speak. He had ordered they be kept in different cells to avoid seamless communication, yet, they remained adamant.
“You think you are smart? Even with a lawyer, you are not going off the hook. My men and I searched your house and we found staches of meth hidden in the ceiling and we also found guns ….”
Just then, the man jerked up in rage as he tried to lurch himself at Copler, but unfortunately, he was cuffed. “You bastard! You dare to search my house. You will pay for this.”
“And that’s not just it, the gun from which the bullet that was used to attack me outside the police precinct was found, It was found among your guns.”
The man’s eyes widened again. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I want the truth. Did you do it?” And then he turned to the man’s son, “Or did he do it?”
“Fucking don’t look at him! He did nothing.” The man yelled, his face turning red.
“If he didn’t, then you did.” Copler said in an accusing tone.
The man looked down, his face taking on a sober reflection.
“Gray, get me the strands of hair.” He ordered one of his men. The man returned a few minutes later with the evidence envelope in which the strands of hair are in.
“Does this look familiar?” He asked, raising the envelope for them to see.
The man looked confused, but his son looked surprised, and Copler took note of his expression.
“What’s that?” The man asked, looking genuinely surprised.
“Strands of hair from a wig. You wore it to attack me at my place, a few weeks ago.”
“What the fuck are you saying, man? I don’t even know you or your house! You accuse me of shooting at you and now you are saying I attacked you with a damn wig!” The man’s face was red now and he looked like he could kill everyone in the room.
“Bring the wig, Gray.” Copler ordered again. “Does this wig look familiar?” He asked, shoving the wig in the man’s face.
“Bro, I don’t know who owns the fucking wig! Guys don’t wear wigs, do they?”
“Well, they do, if they intend to attack a cop in his house.”
“I want my lawyer!” The man screamed.
“You will get a lawyer, but be rest assured that you are going away for a very long time.” Copler threatened and stood up from the chair.
He asked that the man and his son be returned to their separate cells. He was almost at the door when he heard “Wait.” He turned and realized it was the man’s son.
“I did it. And before I talk, I want to ask for a deal…”
RACHEL’S POV
She was seated in a quaint coffee shop, with her glasses on as she waited patiently for Shelley. Poor people and not keeping to time. The more reason they remain poor is because they have no respect for time.
Sighing for the umpteenth time, she glanced at her wrist watch. She was getting impatient and frustrated. Just as she was about dialing her number, Shelly walked in.
“Finally!” She exclaimed as Shelley walked in. She couldn’t hide her annoyance and frustration any longer. “You’re over an hour late, Shelley! I’ve been sitting here waiting for ages.”
“I’m really sorry, Rachel,” she apologized. “I had no control over the situation. My colleague at work showed up late for her shift, and I had to cover for her. It was a complete mess.”
“That’s not my problem, Shelley. We agreed to meet at a specific time, and you should have made sure to be here on time. It’s disrespectful and shows a lack of consideration for others.”
I truly apologize, but after my colleague messed up, I had a hard time finding a cab to get here. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Excuses! That’s what you are full of and that’s what you give. Spare me them, we are here for something more important.”
“Sure,” Shelley replied and took a seat.
“So, I want us to strike a deal. You do something for me and I pay you a substantial amount. You still want to offset your student loan bill, right?”
“Yes, yes of course. What is this deal about?” Shelley asked, excited.
“Lean closer.”
Shelley did, and she whispered into her ears.
“Jeez! That is evil, Rachel. You can’t possibly ask me to do that. I’m not a criminal.”
“Really? Don’t you consider yourself a criminal for asking me for money that you never worked for?”
“That is different. I’m asking you to help me as a friend. You have the money, you know you do. You don’t have to make me do something as evil as that just in exchange for financial aid.”
“And who said I’m helping you with my money? I can’t give you such a substantial amount for free, unless you are willing to work for it. Period!”
“But Rachel, this is crossing a line. It’s illegal and wrong. I can’t believe you would even suggest such a thing. I thought our friendship meant more to you than money.”
Rachel’s expression hardened, and she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Friendship shouldn’t be based on handouts, Shelley. I have worked hard for my money, and I expect others to do the same. This is an opportunity for you to prove yourself, to show that you’re capable of standing on your own.”
“But I can’t compromise my values for money. There has to be another way, a legitimate way for me to pay off my student loans.”
Rachel sighed impatiently. “Fine, if you won’t do as I ask, then I guess we don’t have a deal. I’ll find someone else who’s willing to work for the money.”
Shelley stood up from her seat, her eyes were welled up in tears. “I can’t believe you would stoop so low and try to manipulate me like this. I’m disappointed in you.”
As Shelley walked out of the shop, she sighed in frustration. Her plan had failed. She had thought Shelley’s desperation to get money would make her do her bidding, but the reverse was the case.
Angrily, she stood up and picked her bag before walking out. She would have to look for someone to do the job for her. She had just gotten home and was contemplating on her next move when Shelley’s call came in.
“What do you want, Coward?” She asked angrily, when she answered the phone.
“I have thought about your proposal and I don’t have any option so,” She paused, as if contemplating on her answer before adding “I will do it…”