The Forsaken by Estevan Vega

euthanized,” Jude sneered. “I don’t work with bottom feeders. Take a hike before I drag you to the department too.”
    “Empty threats. Rather pathetic.”
    Jude clenched his fist and kept walking.
    Rachel added, “Leave, unless you want this to get nasty.”
    Chase studied her body intimately. “I’d like nothing less, sweetheart.”
    Before he could blink, she punched him hard in the jaw, and her knuckles crunched. The gum flung out his mouth and rolled against loose rock and gravel.
    “Looks like you got a story after all,” Rachel said in a domineering tone. “Perv gets slugged by a girl. Has a nice ring to it.”
    Jude and his suspect exchanged looks of surprise with her.
    “Gave him a chance,” she said in defense.
    Jude grinned. Sparing no more time, he shoved the suspect into the backseat. Then he and Rachel got in the car and left the reporter hunched over on the ground.

13

    THE DRAB WALLS OF the interrogation cell surrounded them from all sides. A table sat isolated in the center, with two chairs on each end, and a manila folder placed on top. Jude paced the floor.
    “So, Jerome White,” he said. “Wanna tell me why you ran?”
    Jerome festered. “Man, I’m not sayin’ nothing ’til you people get me a lawyer.”
    The detectives stared at each other.
    “You know, this is one of those things that can go easy or get all kinds of complicated. Why don’t we skip the foreplay and you can just tell us what we want to know. We already had a team sweep your apartment.” Jude arranged and rearranged the evidence on the table. Drugs, a few guns, the usual. “But this isn’t news-breaking stuff. Not here. Why would my,” Jude scanned his brain for the right word, “ colleague here get a call this morning about a petty hustler like you?”
    Jerome sat tightlipped.
    “I don’t like messy. Not one bit. Tell you what, though, I guarantee it wasn’t to tell us all about your community service.” He pointed to the drugs. “So who’s got a grudge, I wonder? And what do they want?”
    “You’re a real stupid mess if you think I’m gonna spill anything to a honkey pig like you.” Jerome spat across the table.
    “Take it easy! Ever hear of the word respect?” Rachel added from the corner.
    “No, ma’am, why don’t you come over here and teach me a lesson,” he mocked.
    “You have no idea why you’re here? Why we searched your dump of a home?” Jude asked in a low tone.
    “Maybe you brought me in here to dress this place up a bit. What am I, the new interior decorator?”
    “Funny. Let’s try this again. Detective Sutherland received an anonymous phone call from someone this morning. The caller gave us your address. We just so happened to have stumbled on a body last night. We figured we might as well open up a new case, see what all the fuss is about. Now, let’s cut to the good part. Suppose we find something on you?”
    Jerome swore under his breath.
    Jude tossed several photographs taken the night before on the table. “Was this guy a friend of yours? Business partner, maybe?”
    “Never seen him before.”
    “Really? Well, maybe I’m just reaching here, but somebody took off like a bat out of hell a few hours ago. A guy like that must be hiding something or protecting someone.”
    “Fool, I’m out to save myself. This skin don’t wear so well in a jail cell.”
    “Then tell us what we need to know,” Rachel said, arms crossed.
    No response.
    Jude rolled up his sleeve, took a sip from his coffee, and released a frustrated sigh. “You keep this up, clown, and a jail cell’s gonna be the least of your problems.”
    “City cops always deal in threats?” Jerome bit back. “If you ask me, you’re the one hiding somethin’. I seen that mark before, the one on your left arm. That tattoo means you’re one of us. Used to be, anyway.” Jerome lifted his left arm and showed it to Rachel, almost gloating.
    Jude scanned his arm, blocking the memories that sought to remind him