by S J Sargent
Bolin hoped this would get Ken to look up, but it didn’t work. The alcohol had taken full effect and put Ken into a daze. Bolin kept pushing forward. “So, no army for you. But at least you could always work your way up at Movie Madness. Right?” Bolin spun around on his toe. “Oh wait! You can’t even do that. Your boss promotes the new guy over you. Even though you’d been there longer than everyone else there…”
Ken continued to sit motionless.
“So, what do you do with all that anger? When you’ve hit a dead end. Can’t lose the weight. Can’t stay out of trouble. Can’t even keep a girlfriend…”
“Shut up!” Ken finally barked. His head fell onto the table. He slowly began to break down. Bolin knew it was mostly from the alcohol, but it still made him feel good about his power.
“Man, if I had that much failure in my life...” Bolin stopped for dramatic effect. “I’d look for a way to take it out. All at once. Find some pretty young girl, beat her up for a few days, then cut her up and leave her to bleed out.” Bolin leaned into Ken’s ears.
“Does any of this sound familiar?”
As Ken broke down more and more, Bolin kept pushing. And prodding. After a long array of verbal attacks, Ken finally confessed to everything. Everything.
To abducting Amy.
To killing her.
To leaving her to die in the back of Wilson Park.
When he struggled with the details, Bolin helped him out with leading questions. All the while, Ken drained more tears than he knew were inside of him. At least the beer was coming out somehow.
Bolin finished writing it all down and stopped recording on the camera. He did it.
He finally got the confession he’d been searching for all week. And the profile of the subject matched perfectly. A disgruntled young adult male with a record and a drinking problem. It’s who the town of Pecos would’ve expected to do something like this. A no-good, lazy sloth that no one would miss while he wasted away behind bars.
Bolin turned the key on his cell and finally got into his cop car to head home on that Saturday night. Satisfied that the town was finally safe. Relieved that the pressure was off of him. And unrepentant that he had led drunken Ken to the slaughter in order to get to that point.
Of course, his master plan got thrown off when he got a call on his way home that a second girl had gone missing from her apartment - dear Christine. He abruptly pulled a U-turn and raced back to the station. Hopping out, he charged back to the end of the hall to see if his suspect was still there. If Ken was still in custody and another suspect really had come up missing, then the forced confession would mean nothing.
Sure enough, Ken was sitting there in the cell. Hopeless and terrified. Bolin clutched his phone in his hand. Pissed off, he was already thinking of how he could create a narrative that pinned the second abduction to him, even though he had been with him the whole night.
Ken looked up at Bolin, not remembering anything from the interrogation. The last memory he had from Saturday was talking to Alex on the phone.
23
Back At The Store
Sunday, December 19 – 9:54 P.M.
The four coworkers—Alex, Molly, Peter, and Ken—stood outside the police station as they waited for the power to be restored. They were surrounded by police officers, while two other officers darted down the hallways. The only lights on in the building were the emergency lights at the exit. The three took turns subtly glancing over at Ken.
What was he doing there?
Bolin came out and stood in front of the group. His eyes panned across each of theirs, as he clapped his hands together to address them. He took a deep breath and nodded first, something he’d learned in his anger management class.
“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “Because the power went out, I’m letting the three of you go back to the store. For now.” He looked over to Ken. “You are going back in the station cell until we can move you to a more proper holding facility in the morning.”
Ken was silent. If only he had been this quiet the night before, he wouldn’t be there. Bolin knew, of course, that his blood alcohol level was significantly higher than the regulation allowed for a verified confession that could be used as evidence. But he was sick of chasing dead ends. So, a guy with a rocky record coming in off the street and confessing to the crime? That’s like a stranger walking into your office and throwing a gold bar on your desk. You don’t question it.
You nod and take it. Then you figure out the evidence later when you have more time. That was the detective’s philosophy. Not necessarily shared by the entire police station.
Bolin directed two cops to escort Ken back to his cell and stand guard until the lights came back on. Then he crammed Peter, Molly, and Alex in the back of a cop car and drove them back to Movie Madness. They stayed silent. Molly ducked down so that no passing traffic could see her.
In the front seat, Bolin stared out at the chilly December night as he tried to tie together the loose ends. There wasn’t any evidence to tie Ken to the crime. All he had was the confession, on video. That was the only evidence Bolin had to pin Ken to Amy’s death. But that was enough.
“I’ve taken down guys with less…” he thought to himself.
What threw the whole thing into a frenzy was Christine going missing just hours after Ken was contained. There were about sixteen hours of relief and sanity for Bolin after the confession. He was able to finally pin a name to the Powers case and close it for good. He had set up a press conference for Sunday evening to announce they had Ken in custody and were planning to expire the curfew.
Then Peter called to report about Christine being missing.
That changed everything. Again.
Now things were back up in the air as people would quickly connect the dots that Ken couldn’t have been responsible for Christie’s abduction. This meant one of three things were possible.
Ken didn’t do it.
Or there were two criminals out there working together.
Or Bolin’s favorite. Ken was the culprit for both cases.
That would put a nice bow on the whole thing.
The news about Christine hadn’t broken yet, and he was hoping that it wouldn’t until the next morning. That gave him until then to find something, anything, that was substantial enough evidence to throw both charges on Ken on his way out to the state facility while he awaited his trial.
“So…” Alex leaned forward so his face was resting right behind Bolin’s back shoulder. “What’s the last movie you rented from us? You remember?”
Bolin laughed. “I don’t have time for movies.”
“Come on. Sure you do. I can just pull up your account when we get to the store. ”
“Why don’t you do that then?” Bolin gritted his teeth. “I don’t know. It was probably something off of the employee recommendation shelf.”
“Whose recommendations do you like the most?” Alex smirked over at Molly. She rolled her eyes, annoyed that he couldn’t just sit still.
Bolin turned up the heat as the cold was leaking in more and more. “Probably the guy who always suggested all those 80s cop action flicks. Those are my kind of movies. The low-budget Terminator rip-offs.”
“…Ted?” Alex snickered. “That guy got fired. Like a month ago.”
Bolin smiled. “Sounds like a trend with Christine, huh? The employees not getting along with her.” Alex sat back in his seat and looked over at Molly. She shook her head, begging him to stop talking and giving Bolin more reason to keep the questions coming. Alex scaled back.
There were more piles of snow than cars in the Movie Madness parking lot. Bruno’s was still, though Sofia was cleaning up and getting ready to go. There was a sole desk lamp on at Jonathan’s office, but that was almost always on. No sign of his car. The detective swung around to let the crew out of the back seat. They exited and Bolin hopped back in the front to watch them in a very obvious manner.
“Let’s be quick,�
� Peter said as he unlocked the front door of the store. “We’re past curfew so I don’t want to cause any problems.” He looked out at Bolin who casually stared back.
Molly and Alex walked over and grabbed their keys, heading straight for their cars. They were exhausted and just wanted to escape this day. Alex already picked out the movie he was going to fall asleep to when he got home so his mind could get off of the case. Or, cases.
“Hold on just a second.” Bolin stood in front of the main entrance now. “I know it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week for me. As much as I wish you could go home and get some sleep, I’m going to need you all to stick around.”
“What? Why?” Alex asked, about ready to charge by him.
“Just have a few more questions that need resolving. You are still considered suspects in all of this.” Bolin crossed his arms. Molly retreated. For the first time, she wondered if Bolin was looking out for her best interest or for his. She drew back, almost hiding behind Alex.
“We haven’t done anything wrong.” Alex stood firm in front of him. “You can’t just keep us here.”
Bolin’s head shook as he gave them a grin. “People always say that to me as if they really understand the law. Too many movies. If I have any reason to believe you are a suspect, I can hold you anywhere. The badge gives me that right.” Alex glared back. They both knew that Alex had no idea if he was lying or not, so he decided not to say anything else.
Pointing to the counter, Bolin directed them to move away from the door so he could lock it. The clock on the wall read 10:10 p.m. That meant that Bolin had less than eleven hours to find some type of evidence that linked Ken to Christine’s disappearance before things started to go public.
Eleven hours to get one of these three to break down and share something that he could use. At this point, it didn’t matter if the evidence was true or not. That could be determined later. It just needed to be something that connected them.
Anything.
24
Brief Movie Break
Sunday, December 19 – 10:35 P.M.
Alex pressed play. The Polar Express popped up on all the screens across Movie Madness. Molly gave him an exhausted smile from the floor of the classics section. He took that as an invitation and sat with her. “All this craziness has distracted me from watching any Christmas movies this month. It’s basically a crime. I mean, ’tis the season.”
“Polar Express, huh?” She crossed her arms as the opening music kicked in, using Alex’s leg as a pillow while she laid on the not-so-clean carpet. “I’m surprised you’re not more of a Home Alone fan.”
“Who said I’m not?”
They made eye contact, Alex looking down into her eyes and Molly looking up from his lap. For a brief moment, he tricked himself into thinking they were on a date. “I, um, I just think The Polar Express better captures the mood of the night. It’s more mysterious. Everyone’s trapped in a train car. Not sure what is going to happen next. The story could go either way. Kind of like…tonight.”
Molly nodded, at a loss for words. “Do you want a snack?” She hopped up and raced to the front of the store to the concession’s wire rack. Even though she’d seen it every day, she still scanned the shelves as if she were going to find something new.
“Dots!” He shouted from the carpet.
“Ugh. Gross.” She picked up a bag of popcorn and some Junior Mints. “I don’t get how you like Dots. They stick to-”
“-your teeth!” Alex finished. “I know. I know. I was just kidding. You’ve told me that ten times. You can get me some Junior Mints, too. I already know that’s what you’re grabbing.” Molly hid her blush as she grabbed some Dots and headed back to watch the movie.
“Here.” She tossed him the box. “I know that’s what you really wanted.” They got comfortable and cracked open their candy boxes just in time for the movie to start. As they wolfed through the sugar and popcorn, Molly realized it had been hours since she had eaten anything. Her appetite was a mixture of starving and nervous snacking.
Bolin had been interrogating Peter some more in the break room in the back for the last twenty minutes. They hadn’t heard a peep from either of them. In fact, the only noise they had heard from anyone besides themselves was Sofia shutting things down next door through the paper-thin walls.
Alex had dimmed the lighting so that people wouldn’t think they were open. Though with the curfew, the only people out would have been cops and people driving home from work. Employees with late shifts were exempt from the curfew as long as they were headed straight to or from work.
“Man, this brings back memories.” Molly beamed as she watched the animation trigger her nostalgia. “I used to watch this religiously when I was a kid. I’ve probably seen it twenty times. I used to be able to quote it word for word.”
“It’s got a good tone. There’s still some of the traditional Christmas elements, but it also has the mystery side to it as well.” Alex looked over at Molly. His babbling was to cover the fact that he desperately wanted to kiss her. She did too, but he didn’t know that. They hadn’t held hands since the police station. That’s what Alex’s mind kept going back to. Was that just an emotional thing or was it real?
Molly jumped as she heard a knock on the glass behind her. Both turned around to see Sofia waving outside the front door. Her eyes were barely open as the wind smacked her hard enough to blow her away. Alex hopped up and quickly let her in from the stormy weather.
“Hello, you two!” Sofia said. “What is this?” She pointed back and forth between the two of them. “Late-night date?”
Alex laughed. “I wish!” His eyes got big as he tried to cover up his Freudian slip. “I mean…that sounds better than what this actually is. It’s…a long story…”
Molly chimed in. “We aren’t allowed to leave right now.”
Sofia stared at him. “Is everything okay?”
Before Alex could answer, Bolin did from behind them.
“Everything is fine.” He emerged from the back with Peter and a small box. “Hello. I’m Detective Bolin.” Sofia shook his hand and said nothing. She gave him a once-over, trying to figure out why a cop was telling her that everything was fine. That usually meant it wasn’t. At least, that’s how her old Italian blood took it.
Bolin continued. “These three are just…helping me with some…research I’m doing.” He gave Alex a nod. Alex mirrored back with a nod of his own. “They’ve been good sports. Hoping to wrap up soon. It’s been a long night.”
Molly’s heart raced. She tried to get eye contact with Sofia to send her a nonverbal message. With Bolin standing there, she now felt like a hostage that needed help to escape. Sofia was too distracted to notice.
“Okay. Well, don’t party too hard,” Sofia joked. “And remember the curfew. Though, I guess if you have a cop here…” She shrugged. “Eh. I don’t know how that works. Either way, I’ve got fresh pasta and aged wine in my car so I’m out of here.”
“Ma’am. I can’t let you leave quite yet.” Bolin stepped in front of her, which she didn’t like one bit. The last time a man did was a few years ago, and divorce papers came in the mail days later. “Were you working next door last night?”
She nodded.
So did he. “Would you mind answering a few questions?”
Sofia’s face shifted to concern as her eyes bounced over to Alex and Molly. “I thought you said everything was fine?”
“Oh, it is.” Bolin left no breathing room. “Absolutely. I’m just trying to figure out a…timeline. There are a few holes to everything and you may be able to help me.”
“A timeline? For what?”
“I think it would be better if we stepped in the back and chatted in private for a few minutes.”
25
Sofia
Sunday, December 19 – 11:20 P.M.
A few minutes slowly turned into forty. Peter joined Alex and Molly in sitting up front and watching The Polar Express together. He caught the
m up on the conversation that Bolin had with him, mostly about Christine’s work habits and her outside friendships - which he surprisingly knew very little about.
Peter had helped Bolin pull some of the surveillance videos from the past weeks and asked him to play it back on the screens upfront. That was the plan until Sofia came in and distracted Bolin with a new rabbit trail. She was the least patient of anyone of Bolin’s interrogations. With her arms crossed and keys still clutched in her left hand, all she could think about was how her fresh fettucine was no longer fresh. With each minute, it got colder in her car.
“If you’re going to keep asking the same questions, I’m going to leave,” she said. “I don’t know what you’re getting at. Or why I am even here.”
Bolin leaned against the breakroom fridge as he played cop. She could tell he was barely awake. But he’d found a loose end and wanted to see how far it unraveled. While the others were desperate to go home, he knew that he needed to move quickly on this before the morning came and Christine’s case would go public. Two missing girls with only one shaky subject in custody, having confessed when he was drunk. The whole thing could cause an uproar and backlash directed right at Detective Bolin if he didn’t have more answers as soon as possible.