Free Simple by Kathleen George

right?”
    â€œI never used a lawyer for anything.”
    â€œYou are allowed one phone call. Who would you like to call?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œGet him a phone. Want to call your mother again, let her call someone to represent you?”
    â€œI don’t want to bother her again. It’s late.”
    There was another break in the tape. That was 11:29. The tape started up again at 11:47.
    â€œWould you state your full name and where you live?”
    â€œCal Hathaway.”
    â€œIs that your full name?”
    â€œCalvin. I never use it much.”
    â€œThat’s okay. And where do you live?”
    â€œI told you before.”
    â€œJust for the record.”
    â€œOn Child Street.” He gave the number.
    â€œThat’s the name of a street?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIs that behind Parkview?”
    â€œYes. Behind and one street over.”
    â€œDo you know who I am?”
    â€œPolice.”
    â€œDo you remember my name?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI’m Detective McGranahan. Homicide. Can you say who I am?”
    â€œDetective McGranahan. Homicide.”
    â€œHave you had a pretty good summer?”
    This getting-friendly talk that detectives are supposed to do appeared to confuse Cal. He squirmed, put his hands to his mouth. “No.”
    â€œNo?”
    â€œNot now.”
    â€œOkay. Just listen and answer our questions. Can you tell me what you do for a living?”
    â€œWork on people’s houses.”
    â€œDoing what?”
    â€œRoof. Porch. Painting. Different things.”
    â€œDo you recognize these gloves?”
    â€œI think … Are they mine? See, I have a lot of pairs.” Long pause. He looks around. “I can’t tell.”
    Another break.
    When they come back, it is 12:52. Cal Hathaway is visibly nervous.
    â€œI don’t have to talk,” Cal says. “Is that right?”
    â€œThat’s right. You don’t have to, but we hope you do. We’re tired. We know you’re tired. Just relax for a minute and tell us what you know about the death of Cassie Price.”
    â€œI found her body. I already told about that.”
    â€œDo you know how she died?”
    He appears to think. “Strangled?”
    Coleson jumps a little, and so does McGranahan.
    â€œHow do you know that?”
    Cal scratches his chin. “I could see. I mean, at first I thought she was sick, but then I could see there wasn’t any blood anywhere and there were marks on her neck.”
    â€œYou looked at the body for how long? Before calling police?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œDid you move anything?”
    â€œNo, I said before. No.”
    â€œWhat was she strangled with?”
    â€œThe gloves?”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œYou showed me.”
    â€œIf a person did it, when do you think it was done?”
    â€œMiddle of the night.”
    â€œHow was it done?”
    â€œStrangled.” Cal starts to cry.
    â€œWhy are you crying?”
    â€œFor her. Because it’s sad. She’s dead.”
    â€œAny other reason?”
    â€œI’m tired.”
    â€œDid you strangle her?”
    A strange look comes over Cal. Anger. His face scrunches up and he looks as if he could blow fire. “Yes. Maybe. Maybe I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t remember. I don’t remember.”
    â€œYou said yes.”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe I was dreaming. Or went crazy.”
    â€œYou said before that you liked her a lot.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut you killed her.”
    â€œAm I done?”
    â€œAlmost. You said yes, you did.”
    â€œI’m really upset. I need to sleep.”
    â€œYou killed Cassie Price?”
    â€œI just want to sleep. That’s all I want. I want to put this day away and come back and be able to think.”
    â€œI’m going to have you sign something.” McGranahan looks to the