Just a Few Questions

Submitted into Contest #180 in response to: Write about someone whose luck is running out.... view prompt


Crime Fiction Suspense

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

Detective Fraser needed this break. The murderer hadn’t left any fingerprints, any DNA, or anything concrete enough to know where to start. The killer used a 9mm handgun, but there was nothing else to go off of aside from some footprints. The boyfriend was working a night shift when it happened, he’s cleared. There was a suspect, and he did have a 9mm handgun registered to him, with a good lawyer, it wouldn’t be enough to book him. But the killer made a dumb mistake, his luck was about to run out.

Luck had been a Lady towards one Logan Moore. He’d gotten a promotion last month, and to celebrate, got himself a new car. He began every day with a hot cup of instant coffee. He made his with milk instead of water, it was better that way. He sweetened it with a good serving of honey. A good start to his morning. Eggs, bacon, and toast, just for him. As he sat down, he got out a notebook and started writing about his plans for the future. Luck had been good to him. He’d just gotten a raise, just got himself a new car, and didn’t seem to be getting himself in trouble for once. Life was good. And then, his phone rang. He’d spoken with this number before. He’d even made sure to save it as a contact in case they called back. FSPD - The Fort Smith Police Department. Logan hesitated a bit before he mustered up the will to answer it.

“Hello?” Logan inquired.

“Hi, is this Logan Moore?” Asked the voice behind the phone.

“Y-Yes, this is him,” Logan responded with as much confidence as he could muster.

“If you don’t mind coming in for a bit, we still have a few unanswered questions concerning our ongoing investigation into the disappearance of Kayla White…” and it was at this name that Logan Moore winced. He’d hoped that he’d never hear that name again except maybe in passing on the television or social media or something of that nature. “If you don’t mind, We’ll send someone over to pick you up for a completely voluntary interview. You aren’t under arrest and you’d be free to leave at any time. Would you be willing to consent to this?”

Logan waits in the interrogation room. A million and one things are going through his head. What could happen to him if he’s caught? Did he make a mistake somewhere? They have something on him, he’s figured that much. Most likely the police knew about the party. Another memory he was hoping to let simmer in the back of his head and never return to. Best to open up about that. Maybe they have evidence of him being there. Well, he used to live there after all. It could have gotten there that way. 

Logan’s train of thought was interrupted when a familiar face waltzed into the room. A tall, lanky man with light brown hair and blue eyes walked in. He’d seen him before. He’d been questioned by him about two weeks prior, though it was a brief and informal encounter that had occurred outside of Logan’s apartment. The gentleman was intimidating in appearance yet mild in behavior.

“Hey, how are you doing today?” asked Detective Fraser with a smile on his face and in a calm & friendly manner.

“I’m fine, you?” meekly replied Logan.

“Oh I’m doing good, just got a lot of work on my plate,” responded the detective with an earnest tone.

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said, a bit more confidently.

“You do remember me from a few days back, right?”

“Yes.” This time, Logan spoke firmly, concisely, and formally.

“Okay good. Sorry about the theatrics. I imagine it’s terrifying to be driven down here, but I assure you it’s just standard protocol. I just have a few questions. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, you are free to leave, understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“That being said, while this is a voluntary interview and you are not under arrest, I am obligated to read you your basic rights, okay?”


“Alright, well, You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time. Do you acknowledge that your rights have been read to you and that you understand them?” Detective Fraiser finally finished.


“Now, just to confirm to make sure everything on my end is correct, I’m going to have to ask you about some basic info. What is your first and last name?

“Logan Moore”

“Logan… Moore? That’s M-O-O-R-E?”


“Date of birth is… November 8th, 1997?”


“You are currently living at 5900 Kinkead Ave, Fort Smith, AR, correct?”

“Yes, it’s an apartment.”

“Thank you,” the Detective replied dismissively, apparently focused on the questions in front of him. “What’s the zipcode there?”


“Thank you. how much do you weigh?”

“180 pounds.”

“Hair Color?”


“Eye Color?”


“What’s your phone number?”

“(479) 573-9250”

“Could you say that a bit slower?”








“50. So (479) 573-9250.”


“Shoe Size?” Logan had a brief pause from this question.”


“Where did you last see Kayla White?”

Detective Fraser could see it on Logan’s face. It worked. The constant barrage of monotony had lowered his guard. He looked stunned.

The image of Kayla laying naked in bed with Jaxon immediately flashed before his eyes. Logan immediately defaulted to the answer he’d been thinking of since the phone call.

“Uh, the party. I last saw them at the party.” And this brings me to a point I have to make. Social cues can be funny. They can happen for a split second and yet lead to so much. Think about when you’re having a conversation with someone and you wait for them to respond. Unless they are preoccupied with something, it normally takes a second at most to respond. Logan paused for one and a half seconds. At that time, he tried to gauge whether or not that response was what The Detective was looking for. And with that 1,500-millisecond pause, Logan felt the need to give more details to satisfy the detective.

 “Jaxon held a going-away party for his brother, he was joining the Marines, right? Jaxon had been my friend since the first grade, ya’ know? And even though we’d been on rocky ice recently, I still thought I should go and be there for him. So I go and the party’s fine, but like, it’s just awkward. And then Kayla gets there and it’s just awkward and she’s giving me the cold shoulder the whole time and giving me these looks and then I just decided to come up to her and tell her ‘Hey, what’s going on, I’m just here to be here for my friend,’ ya’ know?”

“Why were you guys at odds?” Once again, this is a question Detective Fraser already knew the answer to but still saw an opportunity at play. Logan took a deep sigh, a bit of a pause, and then answered.

“Because Kayla left me for Jaxon.”

“Well then why did you go to the party if you knew that they would be there.” The detective is getting more confrontational at this point.

“Well… I guess I just wanted to be there for my friend.”

“Even though you two were at odds?”

“Well, his brother was going away to the military, I thought whatever issues we had we could put it aside for this, you know?

“I get cha’. And you never saw the two again?” And it was here that Logan felt some suspicion that the investigators might have some idea of his visit to Kayla’s place.

“Actually, I did see her one other time. I went to go pick up some stuff from her place the day after.”

“And when I asked you when the last time you saw her was, you decided not to mention that?” Detective Fraser has dropped his friendly demeanor for something more antagonistic.

“It just slipped my mind, they were right beside each other, I have a hard time remembering which came first.”

“So you may have gone to pick up some stuff either before or after the party, but you can’t remember which one.”

“No, I think she mentioned that I had to go get some stuff at the party but truth be told I was a bit drunk at the time it’s a bit of a blur.”

“Fair enough. What happened when you went to go get your stuff?”

“I mean, I apologized for the party, said I just wanted to get my stuff and that she’d never see me again after that, I did that and left. We didn’t really say anything.”

“So no words were exchanged at all during this encounter.”

“I mean, we said hey, she told me where the stuff was, and then I left.’

“And that’s it?

“That’s it.”

“So why did Jaxon say that you guys started arguing.” Logan was taken aback slightly. So he had spoken to Jaxon.

“I don’t know why he said that.”

“You don’t know why he said that?” 

“No, I mean, you know we had beef.”

“So he fed us bad news to get you in hot water with the law.”

“I mean, I guess.”

“So instead of helping the authorities find his girlfriend, the woman of his life, he chooses to frame his friend because of some beef for a disappearance he’s not responsible for and would want to see solved. Do you realize how fucking stupid that sounds?”

“I mean, I don’t know what you want, I didn’t do it.”

“I didn’t say you did it, I said your story doesn’t make any sense.

“Well I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything else to say, that’s what happened.” A moment passes, then Detective Fraser decided it was time to ramp it up further.

“You yelled at her at the party…”

“She yelled at me first!” The glare Detective Fraser sent Logan showed his restraint to strangle him on the spot.

“...We have a witness saying you yelled at her house, several people said you should be a person of interest when questioned, you own a 9mm handgun and the bullets found at the scene are 9mm, If the boot fits…”

“I didn’t do it.” There wasn’t a shred of anger at the accusation. Desperation, sure. Panic, yes. But no outrage at being accused of murder.

“Yes you did, Logan.”


“People were already suspicious of you before, do you think they’re gonna be any less suspicious of you when they find out they berated her at her house? That you own a gun that fires the same kind of bullet found inside Kayla. We have shoeprints at the scene that match yours. Earth to Logan, it’s over.”

“That doesn’t prove I did it though.”

“Sure makes it likely though. I haven’t told you everything though.”

“Like what?”

“You got your phone on you?”


“Do you got your phone on you.”


“Could you pull it out?”

“...Sure.” Logan complied with The Detective’s request.

“You see that phone. Right now, it’s transmitting your location to your cell phone carrier. They store that information for up to five years. When you were singled out as a person of interest, we decided to pull your mobile information up and contact your carrier, I also have T-Mobile by the way, and low and behold, we can see where you were at the time of the murder. And lo and behold, it shows that, at the very least, your phone left the apartment, showed up at Kayla’s place at the time of the murder, and left soon after. You did it.”

Logan didn’t say anything for some time after this. He couldn’t process it. He couldn’t believe it. He tried to wrap his head around it. He tried to think of a response. But the only thing that could come out of his mouth was “I didn’t do it.”

“Maybe you didn’t go there to kill her. Maybe she called you over, maybe you just wanted to talk. You said she yelled at you at the party first? Maybe she was the aggressor?

“I didn’t do it.” He was looking down at the table, covering his head with his hands.

“Yes you did, and we can prove it.”


“Yes. Think about how everyone else is gonna feel. We can prove how you were there, we can prove it, but you keep denying it and you won’t tell us where she is. You could change that. You can be remembered as the guy who owned up to what he did and made it right. Tell us where she is.” Nothing from Logan. “Please. Tell us where she is. Her mom wants to know. Her friends want to know. Please.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“I know.”

Detective Fraser left the room, knowing everything he set out to know. As he watched the security cam footage, they watched him as he broke down and cried, before he was escorted to the jail. He never once cried for her. He cried for his mother, for his life, for his friends. But he never spoke any words showing any remorse for killing her. He was never sorry for anything but getting caught.

January 13, 2023 19:45

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