The Kyra Daniels Cases: The Ties of Friendship

This isn’t an easy place to get into, especially at night, and with the rainfall making it even worse, it baffles me that I’m standing here taking the statement of two teenagers who seemingly walked into it.

Seventeen-year-old Nathan Jacobs is currently being attended to by paramedics, having been impaled in the shoulder by the inexplicably pointy horns of the bronze bull statue, situated in the center of the courtyard at Olivia Spencer High School. This girl beside him, Felicity Marcus, holding a wet, rolled up blanket, won’t stop talking in a baby voice, coddling him. As she rubs his back, I notice that he’s wincing.

“What were you two doing here so late?” I inquire.

The two teens fall silent, look down at the ground, and turn a shade of red that would make a tomato envious. They try to talk, but they keep stammering.

“Well?” I re-ask.

Jeff helpfully chimes in: “Teenage romance, Kyra.”

I nod in understanding and write it down.

“We just wanted to have some fun,” Felicity confirms. “He got here first, when I showed up, I saw him hurt and called the ambulance.”

“So how did this happen?” I ask, pointing at Nathan’s injury.

“It was an accident,” Nathan answers, a little too quickly. His eyes widen and starts tapping with his fingers, hand clasped on Felicity’s. “It started raining. I slipped, fell back, and landed on the bull. There was no one else here.”

“There was no one else here?” Jeff quotes. “Seems like a weird detail to add if there was no one else here.”

Nathan gapes his mouth, lost for words.

“Was it Velma?” Felicity asks, her baby voice turning harsh.

“Who’s Velma?” I ask.

“Velma Rogers,” Felicity replies.

“Velma would never intentionally hurt me,” Nathan chimes in. “She’s an innocent girl who’s on the honour roll.” He stops for a moment before quietly saying, staring at the ground as he does, “she’s an old friend.”

“More like a stalker,” Felicity snaps. “This girl keeps following us around because she’s in love with him.”

“Felicity,” Nathan says quietly.

“Did she do this to you?” I ask, bluntly.

Nathan’s eyes drop. He hangs his head. He looks back up at me.

“It was an accident.”

-

“Teenagers do crazy things when they’re in love,” Jeff assures me as we’re walking up to Velma’s house.

“If Felicity is right, and this girl is a stalker,” I reply, somewhat bitterly as I knock on the door, “then it could be aggravated assault at best, attempted murder at worst. I think that qualifies as more than crazy.”

Jeff shoots me a weird look.

The door opens with a creak. Velma’s mother is standing there, visibly shaken.

“She in here,” she says, with a quiet whimper.

Jeff and I exchange a solemn look and walk into the house.

-

Velma looks so frail, sitting there alone in the interrogation room, hands folded over, staring at the metallic tabletop. She doesn’t look like someone who could commit a murder. She doesn’t even look like someone who could conceive of the idea.

I stare at her through the door window. Her sniffles echo in the room.

“She gave up so easily,” I say to Nathan as he looks at her.

There’s no anger in his eyes. No sorrow. Just regret.

“You don’t know her,” he replies. “She’s sweet and smart. She would never try to hurt me.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“I told you,” Nathan retorts. “I slipped.”

The door opens and Captain O’Halloran enters with a young woman with auburn hair.

“Detective Daniels,” she says. “Meet Jennifer Lawson. Velma’s lawyer.”

I extend my hand and shake Jennifer’s.

“Lawyer?” Nathan asks, bewildered. “Why does she need a lawyer?”

I take a deep breath.

“If she was there with you when you got injured,” Jennifer begins, “it could be construed as intention to harm, and she could be facing several years in prison.”

“She didn’t mean to hurt me!” Nathan snaps. “How many times have I got to tell you this? It was an accident. I’m not even filing any charges.”

“That is irrelevant,” Jennifer continues. “If malicious intent is proven, then she’s a danger to you and possibly society.”

“She’s not a danger to anyone!”

“Alright, calm down, Nathan,” I say as I grab his shoulders and lead him away from the room.

“It was raining, I slipped. She’s a good person. She doesn’t deserve to let an accident ruin her life.”

I take Nathan to my desk and sit him down.

“Nathan,” I whisper as I sit down opposite him. “You’ve told us that she was there with you. If this is true, and she doesn’t want to harm you, then where was she when Felicity showed up?”

“Probably hiding from her. They don’t exactly get along.”

“But you do?”

Nathan sobs a little. He looks over towards the door.

“She and I were very good friends,” Nathan reminisces. “But when you’re a teenager, image is everything. I became popular, she didn’t.”

“I’m surprised modern high school still has such a social divide.”

“It’s not so clear cut as jocks and nerds. I’m a theatre nerd, myself. I want to be a stand-up comic. People gravitate towards me because of my humour and personality, and she slipped into the background.”

“Is that why you’re covering for her? You feel guilty about abandoning your friend?”

“Guilty? Yes. Covering? No.” Nathan says quickly. “Felicity is great, but…”

He takes a moment to shake his head and wipe away a tear.

“I know Velma liked me,” he continues, “but I was too shy to say anything. Felicity made her move, and I was too stunned to refuse. So, Velma followed me and yelled at me for not choosing her. It started raining as she yelled. She pushed me and I slipped into the statue.”

“So, she did attempt to hurt you.”

“No, I landed on the bull’s head. You can check my back for bruises if you want. She had stormed off before I recovered. I tried to run after her, slipped on the grass. Fell backwards, and… I guess she didn’t hear me through the rain and her cries. She deserves better than jail, Detective Daniels. Please help her.”

I nod.

-

“Kids are so stupid,” I snap to Jeff as we re-examine the crime scene, the glint of the bronze bull in the daylight obscuring much of the data.

“You’ve been oddly ill-tempered today,” Jeff observes. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m not crazy on the way idiots in love behave.”

“You never been in love?”

“I’m married to my work.”

“Well, then… you wouldn’t know that love makes people do stupid things.”

“Exactly,” I agree. “If this kid had just told Velma that he liked her, this wouldn’t have happened. Being in love blinds you to sense and reason.”

“Do you feel this way about everyone?”

“If people want to go off a be idiots, that’s their business.”

“So, if I were to tell you that I had a date tonight?”

I look over at him.

“With whom?”

“The lawyer, Jennifer.”

I start chuckling.

“Idiot,” I say, playfully.

Jeff smiles and we return to searching for clues.

I notice that there is a faint disruption on the grass and a small dent on the bull’s snout. I point this out to Jeff. He nods.

“There’s not much here to prove his story,” Jeff admits. “We should check if Anderson got pictures of the dent. Maybe check some security cameras.”

I nod and Jeff starts to leave. Then I have a thought.

“She was waiting for us,” I reply. “When we went to pick her up, her mother brought us inside and she was ready to go.”

“How…” Jeff pauses. “If she left before he fell…, how would she know he was stabbed?”

-

“I have some questions about the other night,” I say to Velma as I sit opposite her and Jennifer.

“You don’t need to say anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Jennifer assures her.

“I had nothing to do with the stabbing,” Velma whispers.

“Then how did you know he had been stabbed?” Jeff asks.

“Pardon?” Jennifer asks.

Before we can explain, Velma pulls her cellphone out of her pocket, unlocks it, taps on the screen, and turns the phone towards us.

We see, on the tiny screen, barely light enough under the interrogation light, but clear as day, a text message picture from a contact named ‘Felicity – B Word.’ The picture shows Nathan in his arm brace, bandaged stained blood, with a text beneath saying “Did you do this? I told the cops you did.”

“Thank you, Velma,” I say, grabbing the phone and examining it.

“That settles that,” Jennifer interjects. “My client was informed about the stabbing from a jealous rival. She is innocent.”

“We know she is,” Jeff replies. Jennifer looks stunned. “The interesting thing about schools today is that there’s an abundance of security cameras. In most cases, and this one specifically, there was a camera viewing the yard when the mascot statue is kept.”

“Yeah,” I add. “We viewed the security tapes, and it shows that Nathan was telling the truth.”

“Nathan says that he was pushed into the head but slipped onto the horn after Velma had already left,” Jeff summarizes. “We checked the photos that Anderson took. They show that the bull was dented. Paramedic report that shows bruising on Nathan’s back. But that was all circumstantial. The tape was what sealed the deal.”

“Velma,” I say, happily, “you’re free to go.”

Velma smiles and bursts out crying.

Jeff, Jennifer, and I leave the room.

“What’s going on, detective?” Nathan asks as he runs up to the door.

I open the door for him.

“Tell her,” I say, sharply, “how you feel.”

Nathan smiles and nods. He slips past me.

“And you two,” I say to Jeff and Jennifer. “Enjoy your date.”

Jeff smiles and turns to Jennifer.

“So, tell me about you,” Jennifer starts as they walk out of the station together, side by side.

I take a deep breath and glance back into the interrogation room. Velma puts her arms around Nathan and kisses him. He winces, clearly still in pain, so she back off. They stand there, awkwardly smiling at each other.

I chuckle to myself.

“Idiots.”

-

The calm roads of midnight. I’ve been up for a while, but I’m still as attentive as ever on the road. Driving calmly, listening to Chopin. This is peaceful.

That is until my phone rings. I press a button on my wheel and the car phone activates.

“Hello?” I ask.

“H-Hello, Detective? D-Did you m-miss m-me?” A frightened voice asks.

My heartbeat increases.

“Judge?”

“Don’t tell me that you forgot about our game.”

“Killing innocent people isn’t a game.”

“Only an idiot would call the p-people I kill innocent.”

“You see yourself as a vigilante? Someone who believes these victims are being brought to justice?”

“Have you ever s-seen how the courts work? T-twelve idiots barely p-pay attention and decide the fate of a p-person while two people argue about their innocence and so-called w-witnesses only telling their truth.”

“Evidence is presented, and the people make an informed decision.”

“True justice is when p-people get… when people g-get what’s coming to them?”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m not so b-bored that I’ll tell you.”

“Not you, Judge. This victim.”

“She’s just a… No, please don’t. I have a fam…”

A gunshot echoes through my car.

“I will catch you.”

“No,” a smoother, silkier voice answers. “You won’t.”

The phone hangs up. I’m too distracted when I’m passing by the intersection that I don’t even notice that both sets of lights are green.

As I drive through the intersection, I hear a car honk that isn’t mine. I hear screeching of tires that are pressed too late. The last thing I hear before I pass out is the shattering of glass and the power of two cars crashing into each other.