The Death and Resurrection Of Martin Luther

Perfect Lie

The steady beep… beep… beep of the monitor filled the ward. Cole lay half-upright, bandages wrapped tight around his leg and forehead. His face twisted in pain, though not all of it was real.

Detective Harris stood at the foot of the bed, tall and sharp-eyed, every word he spoke was sharp like a blade. Detective Miller, shorter and rounder, wtote on a notepad.

“Cole Luther,” Harris began, “we need you to walk us through that night. No detail is too small.”

Cole swallowed, letting his voice tremble. “I’ve told you already. Everything… Everything happened so fast.”

Harris didn’t blink. “Then tell us again.”

Cole swallowed, his throat tight. “I told you already. We… we were hunting. Martin wanted it, he said we needed a break after the Texas deal.”

Miller scribbled in his pad without looking up. “Go on.”

Cole lowered his gaze, playing the role of the wounded brother. “I suggested we bring guards, at least one or two. But Martin laughed at me. He said the town was safe, that nothing could happen. He was… excited. Too excited like he’d been here before.”

Harris’s eyes narrowed. “And then?”

Cole clenched the blanket in his fists. “Then it happened. The ambush. Out of nowhere. Rustling in the trees, gunfire. Too many of them. I...” His voice broke. “I tried to fight, but I was shot, and then slipped, hit my head. When I woke up, Martin…” He let his words trail into a ragged sob. “…he was gone.”

The room went heavy. Harris’s jaw tightened, but Miller continued to take notes.

    “Gone?” Harris repeated coldly. “Or dead?”

   “I don’t know!” Cole’s voice cracked, too high, too sharp. “God, don’t you think I’d know if my brother was dead? Don’t you think I’d...” He cut himself off, pressing a trembling hand to his bandaged forehead.

Miller finally looked up. “Here’s what’s strange, Mr. Cole Luther. No phone was recovered at the scene. Not your brother’s. Not yours. Both gone.”

Cole blinked fast. “Phones? Who cares about phones when my brother...”

    “And the call logs were wiped clean,” Miller interrupted smoothly. “Not just erased, they were wiped. Like someone wanted no trace.”

Cole’s mouth opened, then closed. His lips trembled as though he was struggling to form words.

Harris’s eyes bored into him. “That’s convenient, isn’t it? A missing brother, a wiped phone, and you, Cole, miraculously alive.”

   “I was shot!” Cole snapped, his voice breaking. “You think I did this to myself?”

Harris leaned down, his face close. “I think people do all kinds of things when there’s enough money, enough power, and enough jealousy on the line.”

His body shook as tears spilled down his face. “Martin is all I have left, after our parents died… it was just us. I can’t... I can’t lose him too.”

The room went silent except for the machines. Harris’s jaw tightened. “Cole, listen to me. We have not ruled Martin dead. He could still be out there, and we won’t stop searching until we find a body.”

Cole’s head snapped up, his eyes burning. “Then find him! Please. Don’t just sit here asking me questions, do something!”

   “We are doing everything we can,” Miller said calmly, flipping through his notes. “We already have a list of Martin’s business contacts, people who might want him gone.”

Cole blinked rapidly. “I never had access to who he did business with… Martin was careful.”

Harris’s eyes narrowed. “Careful? Or secretive?”

Before Cole could answer, the door slammed open.

Aubrey stumbled into the ward, her face pale, her eyes swollen and red from crying. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as if she had sprinted the whole way.

   “Aubrey?” Cole’s voice was thick with disbelief. “What are you doing here? How...how did you even get here so fast?”

She rushed to his bedside, ignoring the detectives. “The police called me. They said my husband was missing, and you were injured. What did you expect me to do? Sit at home?”

Cole winced. “You should have stayed back in New York with your son. Everything is under control.”

  “Under control?” Aubrey’s voice rose, sharp and trembling. “How is this under control, Cole? Martin is missing! And you’re lying here shot and bruised. Tell me, does this look under control to you?”

  “Mrs. Luther,” Miller said carefully, “we need your help too. Anyone who might want Martin gone. Business rivals, family disputes or affairs.”

Aubrey turned on him, fury in her eyes. “You think I had something to do with this? You think I’d want Martin dead? Do you have any idea who I am and how influential my family is? I could have your badge seized if you disrespect me.”

  “No one said that,” Miller replied, pen poised over his notebook. “But you know as well as we do, most times, the answers lie close to home.”

Cole tried to sit up, grimacing as pain shot through his leg. “Don’t you dare accuse her. Aubrey has nothing to do with this!”

But Aubrey’s face had already crumbled. She pressed her hands to her face, sobbing into her palms. “This can’t be happening,” she whispered. “Not Martin. Not like this.”

The detectives exchanged a glance but didn’t speak.

Just then, the door creaked open again. A man in a white coat stepped in, his voice calm but firm. “That’s enough, Mr. Cole needs rest. Everyone out. Now.”

  “But...” Harris began.

  “No buts. He’s recovering from head trauma and a gunshot wound. You want answers? He’ll be more useful to you alive than pushed into a breakdown.”

Reluctantly, the detectives backed away, though Harris threw one last look at Cole, sharp, suspicious and unreadable.

Aubrey lingered, holding Cole’s hand. “I need a minute alone with him.”

The doctor sighed. “Ten minutes. Then you leave too.”

The door closed behind them. The room grew quiet again, except for the beeping. Cole turned his head toward Aubrey, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Martin wouldn’t just disappear. He’s out there, somewhere. I can feel it.”

Aubrey squeezed his hand tighter, her nails digging into his skin. Her voice trembled. “Then we’ll find him. Whatever it takes. He cannot leave like this, I was supposed to file for a divorce this weekend. Finally leave that fool legally, so I can be with you, my love.”

Cole forced a nod, but his mind wasn’t with her as she walked out of the room. It was back at the forest. Back to the moment he had wiped Martin’s phone clean, and tossed it into the current. Then, without hesitation, he raised the rifle again, and fired the shot into his own thigh.

The blast tore through him. His scream echoed off the trees, mingling with the sound of rushing water.

Cole blinked hard. His lips parted before he could stop himself.

  “God…” he whispered, voice raw. “What have I done?”

For a moment, his laugh broke the silence. A strange, shaky laugh that melted into a sob. Then he pressed his head back against the pillow, a tear sliding down his temple.

Not even the best detective can uncover the truth. And if anyone tried… they’d end up buried right beside it.