Unholy Shepherd by Robert Christian (rooftoppers txt) 📕

down so that he could see her eye to eye. It was clear how frightened she was by whatever had just happened.

“Ms. Allen,” he said softly, trying to sound as empathetic as possible, “are you all right?”

“Stay away from me!” Maureen shouted, turning ninety degrees to put a shoulder to the wall and hide her face in its bricks. Manny could see the single tear she was trying to cover.

He dutifully backed up a step but stayed crouched, hoping to make her feel more comfortable by not standing over her. He didn’t really have much experience dealing with someone in this state. He sat back for a moment, trying to decide what to do.

He didn’t have to wait long. With surprising suddenness, Maureen’s body convulsed, and she shot forward toward the low metal toilet in the opposite corner of the cell. A torrent of vomit erupted from her before she could fully position herself above it, with some falling on the floor between her legs. She paused for a moment, panting, before a second wave burst from her. Manny could only watch as the disturbing scene unfolded. It was like watching a drunk girl at a frat party; that was the only other time he’d seen anything like this. The odor of it nearly made him gag.

He watched as Maureen let out a pained groan and flopped back against the wall, wiping her lips with the back of one hand before wiping her eyes with the palm of the other. She tilted her head back against the wall with her eyes closed and inhaled through her nose, apparently trying to get her breath under control. After a moment, she opened her eyes and stared at him. The pained smile that creased her lips stood in stark contrast to her weary eyes, and the short laugh that escaped her throat dripped with bitterness.

“I told you to stay away, Detective,” she said weakly. “It wasn’t a pretty sight, was it?” She let her chin fall to her chest and began to rub her temples. “Do you happen to have a handful of aspirin hanging around? Or better yet, something stronger? Maybe something you might have confiscated? Anything you got would be fine.”

“Contraband is locked up at County.”

“Remind me to get pinched by someone from County next time,” she responded flatly as she pushed herself to her feet. “Can I at least get a drink of water to wash the vomit taste out of my mouth? Maybe splash my face a bit?”

Manny looked her up and down for a moment. She was clearly hurting from the experience and was trying to mask it with sarcasm and a spiteful demeanor. It could, of course, all have been an act designed to facilitate an escape, but judging by the way she was swaying unsteadily while she waited for his answer, he didn’t think so. Still, he couldn’t take any chances.

“Jack,” he called, not moving his eyes from her, even as he heard Officer Collins’ footsteps come up behind him. “Jack, take Ms. Allen to the bathroom and let her wash her face—don’t take your eyes off her—and then take her into the interview room, lock the door, and wait outside for me. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

Manny watched as Collins led Maureen by the arm around the corner before looking back at the vomit which had missed the toilet. He had plans for that. As quickly as he could, he dashed over to the supply locker, grabbed an evidence bag and gloves, and then ran back to the cell. He knelt down and scooped as much as he could into the bag and sealed it. This would either help his case against her, or completely blow a hole in it.

On his way to the interview room, he stopped into the break room and grabbed the bottle of aspirin from the first aid kit, stuffed it in his jacket pocket, and poured himself a cup of coffee. The coffee was only lukewarm, so he popped it in the microwave for a minute and was about to head back to Maureen, when he decided to grab a glass of water. No reason to make her suffer needlessly.

He had to carry the two cups in one hand while holding the evidence bag in the other, but the walk from the break room to the interview room was a short one. Collins was standing outside as requested, though he looked a little annoyed with his babysitting duties. It was understandable. Collins was the only member of the force younger than Manny, but had aced the academy and was known around the office as one of the most ambitious young officers to have come through in quite a while. Having been relegated to night shift guard duty must have seemed like a slap in the face to him, especially with a murder investigation going on. Manny could sympathize, but everyone had to pay their dues.

“Did she say anything to you?” Manny asked as he walked up to the young officer and looked through the half-blinded window into the interview room. Maureen was sitting at the table much as she had been earlier in the day, leaning back and slouching in the chair pretending to ignore everything around her.

“Not a word,” returned Collins in a bored tone.

“Okay, I’ll take another crack at her. Here, take this.” Manny held out the evidence bag.

“What is that?” the young officer eyed the bag and its contents carefully.

“Her puke,” said Manny matter-of-factly. He smiled as Collins made a face. “It’s evidence, pal. I need you to call over to County and have someone come and pick it up. Let them know it’s for the Lowes case. I know it’s late, but the admin desk is staffed twenty-four hours. Someone will pick up. Ask them to see if the DNA they pull from this sample matches the DNA from the sample collected at the crime scene. When you’re done, come back here and