Free No More Mr. Nice Guy by Carl Weber

outside and taught them some respe—” I stopped myself before I said anything incriminating, but, of course, he’d noticed.
    â€œBut you showed them.” He smiled, nodding his head up and down like we were sharing some kind of secret.
    I looked down at the pictures again. “No. Yes. I mean, it wasn’t like that.”
    â€œSo, Niles, why don’t you tell me what it’s like? ’Cause I have three dead bodies and you were the last person to see any of them alive.”
    â€œObviously I wasn’t the last person to see them alive, ’cause I didn’t kill them,” I countered, my head starting to spin.
    Someone tapped at the door before opening it. A young officer approached Fuller and set a Ziploc bag down on the table between us.
    â€œYou wanted this after it was logged into evidence.”
    â€œThanks, Officer.” Fuller acknowledged the cop before he turned and left. He picked up the package in his hand, gripping it so that I could see the outline of a gun.
    â€œAny idea where this came from?”
    â€œIt’s Rodney’s.” I couldn’t believe I’d been stupid enough to leave the gun behind after our fight.
    â€œWhat if I told you that it was the murder weapon?” I could feel the detective watching me, weighing my reaction, but I wasn’t about to give him what he wanted. I showed no response. “Are we going to find your prints on this gun, Niles? ’Cause once CSI wipes it for prints, I won’t be able to help you.”
    â€œI swear I didn’t do this. Yeah, I took the gun from Rodney, but I threw it in the Dumpster. I didn’t use it.” Deep inside of me, I was shaking, but my military training had taught me how to remain calm if captured by the enemy, and from where I was sitting, this was the enemy.
    â€œSo you didn’t do anything to them?”
    â€œSure, I roughed them up a little, but they were alive the last time I saw them. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
    â€œThey look a little more than roughed up to me,” he said, reaching down and picking up the photos to study them. “Look, I know these guys. Especially this piece of shit Rodney. There could be real repercussions to you killing him. He has more connects inside the prison system than he does outside.”
    He spoke like he actually gave a shit, but I knew that it was all just an act to lower my defenses. I sat there, staring at the detective, seeing my life spiraling down right in front of me.
    â€œI didn’t kill nobody!” I shouted, tired of being blamed for something this heinous. I’d only been back a day and half, and the threat that I was experiencing was as real as anything I had dealt with in a war zone.
    â€œThe evidence says otherwise,” Fuller shot back.
    I dropped my head into my hands, exhausted, with my defense falling onto deaf ears.

Bridget
    13
    When I opened the door I saw him, half asleep, exhausted but still defiant, sitting at that interrogation table. It almost made me chuckle the way these bare rooms were made to insure the highest amount of intimidation and the least amount of comfort. They were so archaic and barbaric that it was impossible to get comfortable; but, of course, that would defeat the purpose. I knew that he had been there for the better part of six hours as they grilled him mercilessly about the murders.
    â€œNiles,” I spoke, gently waking him.
    His eyes were cast downward toward the floor, and I could feel them on me as he worked his way from my high black Louboutins, up my leg to the skintight pencil skirt and tight blouse I wore, until he arrived at my face.
    â€œSo we meet again,” I said.
    â€œYou!” he spat out the words, leaving no doubt how he felt about my presence in that room. His dislike for me almost rose up in waves, as his nostrils flared open.
    â€œYes, Mr. Monroe. It’s me.”
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” He