Blood and Motive

2

I've been here for two days now. I haven't been allowed a phone call, appointed a lawyer, or allowed any visitors.

Just me in a jail cell. It's quiet—too quiet. All I can hear is the air conditioner cooling.

After the detectives questioned me, an officer brought me to a cell and locked me in there ever since.

The first night here was hard. I had to sleep on the iron bench, and my back hurts.

I couldn't sleep. I could only replay my interview with the detectives and think of Cassidy.

The letters from the photo are burned into my mind. They are all I can think about.

I've been questioned again, but this time, it was just Detective Dan. He was much calmer this time and asked if he could get me anything.

Dan is a lot younger than Nathan; you could tell by the way he dressed and styled his hair.

He was a white man with blue eyes and a mustache, not as tall as Nathan, but he was just as muscular.

He asked me for the truth, and I told him, but he said he couldn't help me if I didn't tell him where her body was.

A police officer comes to my cell and tells me my lawyer is here to see me, and that's when I see Carl coming in through the door, I don't think I've ever been so happy to see him before.

"Manuel,” he greets me.

“Hey Carl, when can you get me out of here? I asked.

Carl is the lawyer for the escort service I work for. I've seen him around a couple of times. He's a balding old man, probably in his early 50s. He gives me the creeps, but he's my only hope of getting out of here, so I push my feelings aside.

“I don't know, Manuel. I'm working on it,” he admits.

I took a step back from the cell door, raked my hands through my hair, and took a few deep breaths.

“Try harder, Carl," I muttered

“I've been here for 3 days now," I yell

"Okay, hang in there; I'll see what I can do, " he gives me a small smile and leaves.

A few hours later, he's back with a police officer who opens the gate and tells me I'm free to go for now.

Carl tells me I've been released on bail due to insufficient evidence and the fact they arrested me without a warrant, so I'm free to go for now.

He tells me to get a really good lawyer because he's not a criminal lawyer. He got me out as a favor to my boss.

We leave the police station, and as soon as we open the door, the media start taking pictures, the cameras start flashing, and the reporters are asking so many questions.

Carl whispers for me to keep my head down and not say a word as we hurry down the steps and into his car, fleeing from the media.

Carl drops me a few blocks away from my apartment and tells me to go see Nick, my boss when I have a chance and wishes me good luck before he drives off.

What a dick, but at least he got me out of jail.

I can't help but think about the picture of the hotel room the detective showed me.

There was blood everywhere on the side; Cassidy was lying down when I left. Blood splattered on the wall, the mattress soaked with blood, and blood pooled on the floor beside the mattress.

The pictures are horrifying, like the pictures from a murder documentary.

It's horrible that someone would kill another person in such cold blood. What about Cassie's husband? I don't know if she had any kids. She never really talked about her family.

Has he been given the news?

I need to figure out what I'm going to do, my next move, and which lawyer I'm going to hire. I also need to find out what happened to Cassidy after I left her.

So many things rush through my mind on the walk home. Just a few days ago, I was a male sex worker with a happy life, and now I'm being charged with murder.

What a twist of fate!

I take the steps one at a time until I'm at the door. I fish the spare key from under the plant pot and enter the apartment.

I look at myself in the mirror; my black hair looks like a bird's nest, and the bag under my eyes looks so bad, as does the stumble on my face from the past few days.

I take a long shower to wash away the stress of the past few days and the jail smell from my body. I fix up a plate of food and turn on the TV when Michael walks in.

“Hey man,” he rushed over to my side, hugging me.

“I came to the police station a couple of times, but they wouldn't let me see you,” he admits.

“It's fine I'm okay, but I'm going to need help. You know I didn't kill her,” I tell him, maintaining eye contact.

He asks me about that night, and I tell him everything that happened and he sighs.

“The story is all over the news because of Cassidy's husband; I guess he's some big shot,” he stated.

Yes, he is. Cassidy's husband, Daniel Jones is the owner and CEO of the record label Jonzing World. They manage and produce some of the biggest artists in the music industry.

The news comes on; it's an interview with a lawyer. She’s being asked about my case. I turn up the volume

“The defendant is being prosecuted wrongly, majorly because of his job as a male prostitute, but there's a possibility he didn't kill her. I suspect foul play here, the whole thing makes no sense. The DA’s office wants a fast conviction because of who the partner of these deceased is. This case is right up my alley, and something doesn't add up; it's the truth,” she acknowledged.

Michael looks at me, and I look at him, and we both look at the TV together.

“Right there is your ticket out of this mess; she's your only hope," Michael stated, pointing at the

TV

“Now all you have to do is find her and beg her to take this case, " he added.

And I was going to do just that: find this woman and convince her to take my case.

My whole life was riding on this, my future hanging in the balance.