Free Marilyn by J.D. Lawrence

Over.'
    'It's uh, it’s Marilyn. Umm… Over?’ She fumbled with the receiver, switching hands.
    'That's good, Marilyn. It's good to meet you, I mean to talk to you.'
    She chuckled, although it didn't last.
    'I know you don't know me and I'm just some strange voice over the radio, but can you try your best to explain to me what has happened, Marilyn? Everything you can remember, even things that may seem irrelevant, it could all help.'
    They heard him clear his throat and swallow. 'Right now, the smallest details are just as important. I understand this is painful for you, and I apologise for making you do this again, I guess you've already been over this with Mr Bailey. But do you think you can manage it one last time? Over.'
    She looked over to Elwood, waiting for his nod of approval. There it was accompanied with a hand gesture and a smile.
    'It's OK, Marilyn. Take your time. Over.'
    She explained the night’s events in great detail, trying not to leave out anything, just as she had with Elwood. She talked about stopping for food, about Jack, the conversations they had. Everything. The sheriff offered his sympathy and his deductions. Everything was much stronger and clearer this time. He asked for a description of David O'Sullivan, for that she passed it back to Elwood, who could give a better description of the man than she could.
    Elwood watched her closely as she listened to everything, looking back and forth from him to the radio, from the radio to him.
    'He wasn't very tall, Sheriff. Shorter than me, so I'd say about five foot six, maybe five seven, medium build. He was quite well spoken, definitely not from around here. Probably somewhere in the city, would be my guess. He had a scar under his eye and he looked a little worse for wear. His clothes were grubby and he didn't exactly smell fresh. Over.'
    They listened to the distant sound of hectic scribbling knitted together with short bursts of static.
         'Marilyn?' the voice asked.
    Elwood passed the receiver back, his face an unfinished canvas.
          'Yes, Sheriff. I'm here. Over.'
         'My guess, Marilyn, would be that you and Jack were both drugged, more than likely when you stopped for food. Sleeping pills would be the most obvious answer here. It was impulsive, I don't think this was planned at all. Did you feel a little groggy when you woke? Over.'
    Marilyn held her breath tightly in her chest.
    'Come to think of it, yeah I did,' she recalled, stroking her hair. 'Do you think he would hurt Jack?' she asked with a weak quiver in her voice.
         'I... I can't be sure, Marilyn. I wouldn't want to say. Over,’ he answered prudently, honestly.
    Elwood drooped his head. He hinted for the receiver with an open hand, Marilyn complied.
    'Sheriff, it’s Elwood here, over.'
    'Go ahead, Elwood. Over.'
    'The guy, well. He stayed here, he turned up about four hours before Marilyn. He signed the guest book, his name is David O'Sullivan. Now I don't know if that is an alias or not, but I was hoping you could check, you know, on your computery thing, maybe he has some sort of criminal record. Over.'
    Static.
    'You've been reading too many of those old crime books, my friend.' The voice was amused. 'Unfortunately, though, the storm has knocked out all of the power for the computers, there's nothing I can do at my end at the moment. Over.'
    'Fucking technology,' spouted Elwood. 'Sheriff, not to be an ass or anything, but you did say that you've got everything running off of a back-up generator,' Elwood pushed. 'Over.'
    'Yeah, that's correct. But the computer systems run from an alternate power source, at the moment all we have running are the lights and fridges. I've got someone working on it as we speak. I'm sorry, but I can't give a time when they'll back up,' he admitted. 'We're a small town in the arse end of nowhere, I can't imagine anyone rushing out to us. Over.’
    'I hear you.' Elwood nodded to himself.
    'Listen, both. I've taken notes, I'll