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Extreme Malice

Page 5

by R E Swirsky


  ***

  Jack was mystified when two detectives and a team of officers arrived at his hotel room door. It wasn’t what he expected.

  “Can you please tell me anything about what happened to my wife,” Jack asked them immediately.

  “I’m sorry sir,” one of the detectives said. “We can’t tell you anything more than what you’ve already been told. But you will have to come with us. We are taking you back to Bluffington on the next flight. These other officers will see to your possessions and make sure they are returned to you in Bluffington.”

  “What? I don’t understand. What about my wife?”

  The detective did not answer Jack. He motioned towards the door. Jack was allowed to grab only his coat, wallet and ID, and nothing else.

  In route to the airport, Jack asked again for any details, but the officers said they had no details to offer. He would have to wait until they arrived back in Bluffington.

  “Can I get you coffee or juice or something to eat, sir?” one officer asked as they boarded the plane. Jack refused. He had no appetite.

  He remained calm as the flight lifted off, but quickly became distraught after asking for details again about his wife and again receiving no answers. Why would no one tell him any of the details? He received none of the information he wanted. He sobbed alone for a while and finally pulled himself together just as the plane landed in Calgary.

  It was late in the evening when Jack, escorted by the police, arrived in Bluffington. Instead of taking him to his house, the officers escorted him into one of the tiny interview rooms at the local police station. Jack knew what was happening the moment the door was closed behind him, leaving him isolated in the concrete block room alone. The room was cold and barren and contained only a small metal table, two wooden chairs and a mirror. Jack sat down in the chair in the corner, and looked around. He spotted a red light on a camera tucked up in the corner. He looked at the wall to his right and knew that someone was watching him behind the two-way mirror.

  Jack knew Donna’s death was not natural; if it was, he wouldn’t be in this situation. There were questions that needed answers. He quickly concluded that he was their prime suspect for what happened to his wife. He wiped a tear from his eye with the back of his hand and let out a heavy sigh. It was going to be a long night.

 

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