Forty-Four

I scan the room, eyes narrowed. "What does that have to do with this investigation? Shouldn't you be focusing more on the poison and how it got to my house rather than fangirl over my sexual preferences?"
"You just seem so angry and aggregated, Daniel, its just a question."
I wipe my hand across my face. I'm sweating. "Well. Then I guess I should answer you but once I have, can you answer just one of mine?"
Jones is quiet for a while. Staring at the wall. At Freddy. At the floor. Anywhere but me. Then he looks over at me, starts to say something, but decides against it. A fish wiped ashore.
Finally, he just says, "Sure thing."
"Well... Me and Skylar never fucked. I did however lend him a friend of mine to fuck with. T'was all consensual. We're responsible boys. Don't want no trouble."
His reaction isn't what I expected.
Silence.
I swallow.
He's so dazed a zombie Apocalypse would pass right in this room and Jones wouldn't even notice.
"Interesting," he says at last. " Do you have a name for this consensual friend?"
"Of course. Samantha. Skylar was obsessed with her. By the way, did you find her?" I say.
"No. Why?" He takes off his eye glasses as he speaks and rubs his eye. He puts them back on. He's tired. "Did you want to confess? I can get you a deal. Fifteen maybe ten."
"You should look at Skylar. He should be a person of interest."
Jones puts his face in his hands, like a man with the world on his shoulders. "I'll talk to him, Daniel. Now, answer this, do you have any idea who might want Clara dead?"
"No idea. Do you?"
"We're working on it. Something fascinates me."
"Don't tell me you liked the Black Panther movie too? I'm a huge fan."
"Haven't seen it yet. I should." He scribbles something. He speaks while he writes. "I obtained a warrant to search your house." He says this in the most nonchalant voice ever. Like he's talking about the nice weather outside. Which is bright, sunny. .
"Hope you found something useful."
"Oh but I did." He beckons with two of his fingers. Another officer in uniform walks in, dumps a book on the table and leaves. I crane my neck for a better view. A Pale Horse : title. A book about horses? What could be interesting in that? People are weird. Authors especially.
"Horses? Seriously?" I snort. "That's your fascination?"
"You're selling stupid. I'm not buying."
I pause, take a huge breath of the cold, winter air. "Don't know what you're talking about."
"Since we're playing this game Daniel... we found this buried deep in your closet. Like someone was trying to hide it, you know?"
I sit up straighter.
"But that isn't mine."
It really isn't.
"Now for my fascination. All the sections that deal with thallium were underlined, twice. And guess what?"
I shrug. What?
"This is a library copy. A copy that you took out with your library card. On the tenth of April. Three days before your sister started getting sick. That gives you enough time to read the book. Go cruise for the thallium and administer it to your sister. I think you're following through on your threat."
The light coming through the window suddenly feels too bright, the air is thick with lies. Lies that are now blood thirsty.
"I never threatened Clara."
"Listen to this, Daniel." He fumbles with a few buttons on the electrical recorder and sure enough Cooper's voice comes on and ... Wait, is that? Yep. Me.
"I'm gonna kill, Clara." My voice booms from the speakers.
"Are you threatening a life in front of a police officer, Daniel?" Cooper's voice says back. Smug. As he should be. The tape stops playing. I remember now. The first day I was here. Three days after my father had passed. My first interview?
Oh Fuck.
"Should I play that again, Daniel?"
My nostrils flare. "I heard perfectly the first time."
"So I'll ask you one more time, and Daniel think carefully about the question before you answer, why did you poison your sister? Where's your father's head and hands? And what did you do to Samantha?"
Papa's head? Thallium? I'm responsible? It just doesn't make sense. I can't deal with this right now. "Are you arresting me?"
"No, not yet."
Not yet, I note. He's planning to arrest me. To dig up some sort of dirt that will fling me to prison's claws. In that case, I'm planning to be ahead of him. Outsmart him. I'm actually afraid. I'd even cry, if I thought it'd help.
"Well, I'm done talking to you."
Jones sits up, like he's never heard the words in this particular order before. "Daniel, wait. We still have so much to shift through."
Fuck the police.
Fuck the law.
I shouldn't even be here. When I get home, I'm getting my lazy ass in front of the computer and by tomorrow, hopefully I'll be done with the first chapter of my memoir, Pretty Little Lies.