was nothing compared to the hurricane
that was about to hit Oakhaven.
Chapter 5: The Precinct
Interrogation
The Oakhaven Police Department
was a tired, cinderblock building that
smelled of floor wax, old coffee, and
institutional despair. It was exactly the
kind of place where a bully with a badge
could hide from accountability. Miller
dragged Marcus through the back
entrance, marching him past a row of
battered metal desks where a few other
officers looked up with mild curiosity.
"Look what the cat dragged in,"
Miller announced loudly, puffing out his
chest. "Caught this one looking suspicious
out at the cemetery. Matches the
description of the armed robbery suspect
from the tri-county alert."
An older desk sergeant squinted at
Marcus. "The guy from the tri-county
alert was described as being in his early
twenties wearing a red hoodie, Ray. This
guy's in a bespoke suit and looks like he's
pushing forty."
"People change their clothes, Sarge,"
Miller replied dismissively, shoving
Marcus into a small, windowless
interrogation room. The room contained
a scarred metal table, two rickety chairs,
and a mirror on the wall that was clearly
a two-way observation glass. Miller
pushed Marcus down into one of the
chairs and leaned over the table, trying
to look intimidating.
"Alright, tough guy. Let's hear it.
Where were you last night?" Miller
demanded.
Marcus sat back in his chair, his
cuffed hands resting uncomfortably
against his spine. He looked at Miller
with an expression of profound
boredom. He had been interrogated by
cartel enforcers who possessed a
terrifying degree of imagination when it
came to inflicting pain. A small-town cop
with a superiority complex barely
registered on his radar.
"I am not answering any of your
questions," Marcus said, his voice calm,
articulate, and completely devoid of fear.
"You violated my civil rights, you
desecrated a funeral service, and you
made an arrest without probable cause. I
am invoking my right to remain silent,
Miller stared at the badge. He
blinked once, twice. A slow, sickening
realization began to creep over his
features, draining the color from his face
until he looked like a wax figure. He