the part.
“Do you know this woman?” Perkins holds out a picture and I take it in my hands.
“No, I don’t know her, but I met her briefly last night.” It’s the drunken slore from the bar, Summer. Crap.
“And you had an altercation with her?” Detective Cole interjects. Her voice matches her face- flat and emotionless.
“I wouldn’t call it that. She was drunk, yelling obscenities at my friend, Jared, and me. She even took a swing.” I leave out that the swing was meant for Jared. “I pushed her and then left the bar.”
“And your friend? What did he do?” Cole asks. She seems bored.
“Nothing. He left with me. We waited in the car until our friends were ready to go,” I answer.
“And his name is?” Perkins asks, a pen and pad in his hand.
“Jared Johnson,” I answer skeptically.
I look up at my parents and read their grave, worried faces. I must’ve really done it this time. Summer probably has some rich daddy who is threatening to sue the pants off us. Shit.
“Look, Summer was aggressive towards us. There’s a whole bar of people who saw what went down. Is she really trying to press charges over a little shove?” I sigh and shake my head.
“Ms. Winters, Summer Carlisle isn’t pressing charges,” Perkins says, looking at me seriously. “Summer’s body was found early this morning.”
Shit just got real.
Chapter Seven
“What do you mean, ‘ her body was found ’? What happened to her?” I ask, flabbergasted. I instantly regret my spiteful musings.
“It means that she’s dead. More specifically murdered,” Cole says dryly. She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees, for dramatic effect, I’m guessing. “Now being that you admit to assaulting her, all fingers point to you. Tell me, Gabriella, why did you want Ms. Carlisle dead?”
Is this woman for real? Someone has obviously been watching too many episodes of Law & Order. Simmer down, Detective Dramatic .
“What? Look, there’s no way I killed Summer. I had no reason to. She got out of hand at the bar. Yes, I pushed her, but that’s it,” I retort, fervently.
“No one’s accusing you of murder, Gabriella.” Perkins gives his partner an irritated glance. “But I do need to ask of your whereabouts last night approximately between 1 and 3 A.M. About what time did you leave the bar?”
“Well, after I got into it with Summer, I left and waited outside with my friend. Then we headed to Denny’s around midnight, I guess, maybe a little later. I got home after 2 or so,” I recall.
“And can anyone vouch for that?” Perkins asks.
“Yes, Jared Johnson, of course. And my friends Morgan, James, and Miguel. Wait!” I jump up and sprint to my room, returning just seconds later with a small slip of paper. “Here’s my receipt from Denny’s. I paid with my debit card.” I shove the piece of paper in Perkins’ face, pointing at the time stamp. It reads 1:52 A.M.
“This should check out.” Perkins nods, noting the time. He picks up his notepad. “And your friends? I’m going to need their names.”
“Sure. Jared and James Johnson. Morgan Pierre. And Miguel Espinoza.”
“And we’ll need to know where to find them,” Cole snaps.
I look at Cole squarely. “At their homes,” I say with a cynical smirk.
“Their addresses,” she adds, brusquely. She’s shooting daggers at me with her hard, muddy brown eyes.
“You’re the detective. Investigate!” I say incredulously. “Hell, you found me easily enough.” I give Cole a cold stare of my own. I hear my mom gasp in disbelief at my outburst and I turn back to my parents and mouth ‘ What? ’ with shrugged shoulders. I return my attention to a now furious Cole, and Perkins, a smile playing on his full lips as he scribbles down the names of my friends.
“Thank you for your time,” Perkins says, rising. He shakes each of our hands. Cole jumps up and makes a beeline for the front door without a word. Rude ass . “Here’s my card.
“Do you know this woman?” Perkins holds out a picture and I take it in my hands.
“No, I don’t know her, but I met her briefly last night.” It’s the drunken slore from the bar, Summer. Crap.
“And you had an altercation with her?” Detective Cole interjects. Her voice matches her face- flat and emotionless.
“I wouldn’t call it that. She was drunk, yelling obscenities at my friend, Jared, and me. She even took a swing.” I leave out that the swing was meant for Jared. “I pushed her and then left the bar.”
“And your friend? What did he do?” Cole asks. She seems bored.
“Nothing. He left with me. We waited in the car until our friends were ready to go,” I answer.
“And his name is?” Perkins asks, a pen and pad in his hand.
“Jared Johnson,” I answer skeptically.
I look up at my parents and read their grave, worried faces. I must’ve really done it this time. Summer probably has some rich daddy who is threatening to sue the pants off us. Shit.
“Look, Summer was aggressive towards us. There’s a whole bar of people who saw what went down. Is she really trying to press charges over a little shove?” I sigh and shake my head.
“Ms. Winters, Summer Carlisle isn’t pressing charges,” Perkins says, looking at me seriously. “Summer’s body was found early this morning.”
Shit just got real.
Chapter Seven
“What do you mean, ‘ her body was found ’? What happened to her?” I ask, flabbergasted. I instantly regret my spiteful musings.
“It means that she’s dead. More specifically murdered,” Cole says dryly. She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees, for dramatic effect, I’m guessing. “Now being that you admit to assaulting her, all fingers point to you. Tell me, Gabriella, why did you want Ms. Carlisle dead?”
Is this woman for real? Someone has obviously been watching too many episodes of Law & Order. Simmer down, Detective Dramatic .
“What? Look, there’s no way I killed Summer. I had no reason to. She got out of hand at the bar. Yes, I pushed her, but that’s it,” I retort, fervently.
“No one’s accusing you of murder, Gabriella.” Perkins gives his partner an irritated glance. “But I do need to ask of your whereabouts last night approximately between 1 and 3 A.M. About what time did you leave the bar?”
“Well, after I got into it with Summer, I left and waited outside with my friend. Then we headed to Denny’s around midnight, I guess, maybe a little later. I got home after 2 or so,” I recall.
“And can anyone vouch for that?” Perkins asks.
“Yes, Jared Johnson, of course. And my friends Morgan, James, and Miguel. Wait!” I jump up and sprint to my room, returning just seconds later with a small slip of paper. “Here’s my receipt from Denny’s. I paid with my debit card.” I shove the piece of paper in Perkins’ face, pointing at the time stamp. It reads 1:52 A.M.
“This should check out.” Perkins nods, noting the time. He picks up his notepad. “And your friends? I’m going to need their names.”
“Sure. Jared and James Johnson. Morgan Pierre. And Miguel Espinoza.”
“And we’ll need to know where to find them,” Cole snaps.
I look at Cole squarely. “At their homes,” I say with a cynical smirk.
“Their addresses,” she adds, brusquely. She’s shooting daggers at me with her hard, muddy brown eyes.
“You’re the detective. Investigate!” I say incredulously. “Hell, you found me easily enough.” I give Cole a cold stare of my own. I hear my mom gasp in disbelief at my outburst and I turn back to my parents and mouth ‘ What? ’ with shrugged shoulders. I return my attention to a now furious Cole, and Perkins, a smile playing on his full lips as he scribbles down the names of my friends.
“Thank you for your time,” Perkins says, rising. He shakes each of our hands. Cole jumps up and makes a beeline for the front door without a word. Rude ass . “Here’s my card.
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