The Big Bad Wolfe

The interrogation room was small, made entirely of gray brick, and had only two straight-back wooden chairs and a flimsy black card table. The flickering fluorescent light buzzed like a trapped fly. Wiley Stuart sat, cuffed, in one of the chairs, looking relatively at ease. 

If one didn’t know where to look. 

Officer Elaina Pembroke sighed, looking at the scene through the one-way mirror. She clutched a half-used notepad and a pen in a white-knuckled grip. 

“All you have to do,” Lieutenant Gregori said, “is get him to confess. And then all of this will be over.”

Elaina glanced at her boss, a portly man with a mottled red face and a precarious beer belly. The most he’d done in the last five years was walk from his office to the break room to get a third helping of donuts. A little too on the nose, Elaina thought, and she snorted. Gregori narrowed his eyes challengingly, but Elaina wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Though she’d only been a part of the Storybrooke Police Force for a few months now, she already knew Gregori wasn’t the one in charge. 

No, the immaculately dressed man currently sitting in his office was. 

“Sir, did Stuart really do all of those things in his report?” Elaina asked, glancing at the man in cuffs. He couldn’t have been much older than her, with dark locks that fell into his eyes and a tall, lithe frame that shrank the chair he was sitting in. He looked like he lived off of energy drinks and cigarettes, and someone like that wasn’t physically capable of doing the things he was being accused of. 

“There are witnesses pinning him at the crime scene,” Gregori snapped, “just do what you’re told, officer.”

Elaina lowered her head in acquiescence and opened the door. Wiley Stuart didn’t stir from his chair, but Elaina caught the sharp intake of breath, the tension in his shoulders. She claimed the chair across from him, folded her hands together, and smiled. 

“Hello,” she said softly. 

When he didn’t respond, Elaina opened up her notepad and clicked her pen, “My name is Elaina Pembroke. Let’s start with your name.”

“Which one?” Wiley said, his voice raspy from misuse. 

“Perhaps the one you wish me to call you?”

“Wiley Stuart.”

“So you don’t like being called the Big Bad Wolf?” Elaina prodded. 

Wiley looked up, revealing a pair of luminous amber eyes, “would you?” He demanded, his voice low, “I’m not big. I’m not bad. And I’m only a wolf when I have to be.”

“And when do you feel like you have to be a wolf?”

Wiley’s eyes grew distant, and Elaina pursed her lips, intrigued, “all the time,” he whispered. 

Elaina’s heart fractured a moment for the man sitting before her. His eyes were open and honest, vulnerability cracking through the pupils. His face was gaunt, bags resting underneath his eyes. 

“Tell me about Carnation Sinclair,” Elaina said, trying to pour as much sympathy as she could into her words. 

Wiley closed his eyes, “what about her?”

“So you know her?”

“I know of her,” Wiley replied, “she would come into the forest weekly.”

“She’s missing,” Elaina said, trying to see if the news changed anything about Wiley’s behavior. But he remained stoic and cold, as if he already knew. 

“And you think I had something to do with it.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement of fact. 

“Witnesses claim you were the last one seen with her, before she went missing.”

Wiley wilted against the chair, “you think I hurt her.”

Elaina swallowed and opened up his file, “you have a history-”

“How much of that history was reported by these “witnesses” you claim to have?” 

Elaina ignored him, knowing he was just trying to get a reaction out of her, “let’s refocus. Why would Ms. Sinclair venture into the forest once a week?”

“She baked,” Wiley replied, a far away look in his eye, “her garden was only so big, and she needed huckleberries.”

“Huckleberries?”

“For her pies.”

“Why do you frequent the forest?”

Wiley frowned, confusion written on his face, “is that a genuine question?”

“I wouldn’t dream of asking something ingenuine, Mr. Stuart.”

“I live in the forest.”

“But Mr. Stuart,” Elaina said, frowning, “there are no recorded residences in the forest.”

Wiley pinned Elaina down with a stare, “I can shift into a wolf, remember?”

“Were you a wolf when you committed all those crimes in the past?”

“When I shifted for the first time, my parents thought something dark had taken hold of me. Their precious baby boy, now a frothing-at-the-mouth wolf. How terrifying. Thinking of living with something- loving something so…evil was inconceivable to them. They abandoned me in the woods when I was eight.”

“I am so sorry,” Elaina whispered sincerely, “no child should have to experience that level of neglect.”

Wiley seemed taken aback by Elaina’s compassion, and coughed to ease the tension, “I survived, as the wolf. When I need to survive, I shift into the wolf. When Carnation needed saving, I shifted into the wolf.”

Elaina perked up at the nugget of new information, “Carnation needed saving? From who?”

“There was a nasty grizzly bear wreaking havoc in the woods this past spring. None of the town hunters would do anything about it, and people were fearful of entering the woods. Finally, there was something scarier than me. But, Carnation was the only one unafraid. She entered the woods, and the grizzly bear attacked. I saved her.” Wiley shrugged noncommittally, “I made her promise that she’d meet me on the edge of the forest once a week and I would keep her safe while she foraged. She agreed.”

Elaina tapped her pen against her lips thoughtfully, “you said Carnation was unafraid. Is it because you two already met?”

A dark look came over Wiley’s face, and Elaina at once understood why people labeled him as the villain, “maybe it’s because she was already battling a monster.”

“What do you-”

“Alright,” Gregori’s voice boomed as he entered the interrogation room, “I think we’re done here.”

Elaina frowned, “but sir-”

“We have everything we need, Pembroke,” Gregori snapped, “one of the witnesses is going to testify against him.”

“What witness?” Elaina asked. 

Gregori smirked down at Wiley, “Theodore Wolfe.”

Elaina grew even more confused, “the mayor, sir? But why-?”

Wiley laughed humorlessly, “of course the little coward would come forward.”

Elaina’s eyes widened, “Mr. Stuart-”

“That’s the person you should be interrogating about Carnation’s disappearance, Elaina,” Wiley said, his eyes fathomless, “he’s the real person who saw Carnation last.”

“What do you mean?”

Gregori huffed, stepping forward, “Officer Pembroke, if you-”

“Do you want me to be a good officer, Lieutenant Gregori?” Elaina interrupted, her voice firm. 

“Officer-”

“If you want me to be good officer, and if you want this to be an upstanding, fair police force, than you will allow me to continue my interrogation with Mr. Stuart.” Elaina said.

“Mayor Wolfe will not be happy about this,” Gregori hissed. 

“Then Mayor Wolfe can talk to me about it.” Elaina said. She folded her arms across her chest: conversation, over. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lieutenant Gregori, I would like to continue my interrogation.”

Wordlessly, with a beet-red face and angry dribble, Gregori slammed the door closed. Elaina took a deep, centering breath before returning to her seat. “Now,” she said, adjusting her notepad, “what is the nature of your relationship with our lovely mayor, Theodore Wolfe?”

Glancing up, Elaina’s breath caught at the pure unadulterated look of disbelief on Wiley’s face, “you’re going to hear me out?” He asked breathlessly. 

“My goal is to figure out what happened to Carnation Sinclair. I need to hear all of the facts. What were you saying about Theodore Wolfe?”

“He and Carnation were dating.”

Elaina blinked, the only sign of her shock, “dating?”

Wiley snorted, shaking his head, “if you can call it that. More like owning. He controlled her. Told her where to go, what to wear, who she could speak to. But you wouldn’t know it, looking at him in his polished suit and that smug politician’s grin.”

Elaina’s pen hovered over her notepad, poised to capture the truth unraveling before her, “and you? What was your relationship with her?”

Wiley’s amber eyes softened, a fleeting vulnerability cracking his hardened exterior, “after I saved her from the grizzly, we got to talking. About her garden, her dreams, her life. She told me about him—how the perfect mayor was anything but perfect behind closed doors. The bruises. The yelling. The… threats,” his voice hitched, and he looked down at his cuffed hands, “we were just… two broken people who found each other. She made me feel human again.”

Elaina felt the weight of his words settle in the room, heavy as the flickering light above them, “were you two… in love?”

Wiley’s jaw tightened, but then he nodded, “yeah. We were in love. And we were going to leave this godforsaken town together.”

Elaina’s heart clenched, “But you didn’t.”

“No,” Wiley said, his voice cracking, “because Theodore found out.”

Elaina’s pen trembled slightly as she wrote, but she kept her voice steady, “how did he find out?”

Wiley’s shoulders sagged as if the memory itself drained him, “someone must’ve told him. Maybe he saw us at the clearing. I don’t know. But that night, Carnation came to me, shaking, scared out of her mind. Said Theodore knew everything. She wanted to leave right then, no waiting, just go.”

“And did you?”

“We tried,” Wiley whispered, “we made it to her cottage to grab her things, and that’s when he showed up.”

The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as Wiley continued.

“I smelled him before I saw him. He barged in, screaming at her, calling her all sorts of vile things. I tried to get between them, but he…” Wiley paused, his hands curling into fists, “he had a knife. He came at me first. I shifted, fought him off, but…” Wiley’s voice cracked, “he turned on her.”

Elaina’s stomach dropped, “he stabbed her?”

Wiley nodded, his voice barely audible, “I couldn’t stop him. I… I wanted to kill Wolfe. But he ran. Coward that he is, he ran before I could end it.”

The rawness of his confession hung in the air like a thunderstorm about to break. Elaina leaned forward, her tone soft but firm. “Wiley, if this is true, we need evidence. Anything that ties Theodore to the scene.”

Wiley looked up at her, his eyes simmering, “he’s the mayor. You think he hasn’t covered his tracks? He owns half this town, including the police force.”

Elaina flinched but didn’t deny it. She’d seen Gregori’s reluctance, his deference to Wolfe. But she also knew the truth had a way of breaking through even the thickest walls.

Before Elaina could press further, the door burst open, and Gregori stormed in, flanked by two uniformed officers, “this interrogation is over.”

Elaina shot to her feet, “sir, I’m not finished.”

“Yes, you are,” Gregori barked, “Mayor Wolfe wants this man transferred to the county jail. He’ll face trial there.”

Wiley scoffed, “yeah, trial. Sure. More like a swift execution, right?”

Elaina stood her ground, “sir, if he’s guilty, we need more than hearsay. And if he’s not, then we’re letting the real criminal go free.”

Gregori glared at her, his face mottled with fury, “you’re out of line, Officer Pembroke.”

“Am I?” Elaina shot back, “or am I the only one in this room doing my job?”

Gregori’s mouth opened, but before he could respond, the lights flickered ominously, and a low growl filled the room. Everyone froze, eyes darting to Wiley, who now stood, his cuffs straining against his wrists.

“What the hell—” one of the officers started, but Wiley interrupted, his voice guttural and raw.

“You think you can silence me? You think killing me will make her ghost go away?” His amber eyes glowed, and for a moment, the wolf inside him seemed to surface, “Carnation deserves justice, and you’re too afraid to face the truth.”

The room was thick with tension, the growl vibrating through the walls. Elaina stepped forward, her voice cutting through the chaos, “Wiley, stop.”

He turned to her, the rage in his eyes dimming slightly at her words, “then help me,” he said, his voice cracking,“help me make this right.”

Elaina made a decision at that moment, one she knew could cost her career. She grabbed her notepad and turned to Gregori, “if you want to play puppet for the mayor, fine. But I’m not walking away from this.”

Gregori looked apoplectic, “you’ll regret this, Pembroke.”

“Maybe,” she said, her voice firm, “but at least I’ll be able to look myself in the mirror.” She turned back to Wiley. “You said Theodore dropped the knife?”

Wiley nodded, his expression wary, “yeah. It should still be at her cottage, unless he had someone clean it up.”

Elaina nodded, determination hardening her features, “then we’ll find it. And when we do, we’ll bring him down.”

For the first time, Wiley’s lips quirked into something resembling a smile, “you’re a lot braver than you look.”

“And you’re not as big or bad as they say,” Elaina shot back, gathering her things, “now let’s go prove it.”

Theodore Wolfe might have owned the town, but the truth had teeth of its own—and Elaina Pembroke wasn’t about to let it stay buried.