Chapter Ten: Something's Wrong with Aiden

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     It was never a good feeling when a police officer approached you in the middle of the night. A man with a gun always racked his nerves, even if he wore a badge. I didn't do it. I didn't do anything wrong, Tyler repeated. But why did he feel so guilty?

     An ambulance came onto the scene as well as three more police cars. By the end of the hour, about a dozen police officers showed up in the once empty lot along with two detectives; a woman in her thirties named Mara Robles, and her partner, Scott Peterson. They introduced themselves to Tyler who sat by the ambulance covered by a warm blanket while Aiden stood at the side of the vehicle; his expression unreadable.

     Detained.

     The detectives 'arrested' him, but they explained this wasn't an arrest. After all, he was the only witness to a man's death, and naturally, the police would grill him back at the precinct. Tyler tried to calm down from that thought, but he made the mistake of imagining himself being bombarded by questions while one of them tortured him with a hot poker or something. He knew he was acting stupid. Cops didn't abuse people like that, but Tyler blamed it on his wild imagination.

     But, Aiden...mused Tyler. How?

     The police were going to tow his car into the police station as evidence due to the blood found on top of his hood. Tyler frowned at the news. He doubted when he'd be able to get his car back. The mere thought of not seeing the vehicle again knotted his chest.

     At the moment, Tyler felt like the prime suspect in the thief's death. When he already told them it was for self-defense, Robles, the female detective, reassured him that it was merely a standard procedure to interview him in the police station. They wanted him away from the scene for Tyler to calm down by taking out the psychological stress, which was the crime scene. Tyler thought it didn't make sense, especially when being in an interrogation room was as stressful as the crime scene.

     After a couple of hours of waiting at the station, the two detectives arrived, leading him toward one of the interrogation rooms and started asking him formally about the events that led to the thief's death. Then, Roy Golding, dressed in his brown blazer, red tie, and brown slacks, with his pointed nose and constipated expression, stormed into the room and demanded Tyler to be quiet.

     "My client is not going to answer any more of your questions!" said Golding.

     Tyler rolled his eyes. Of course. His dad would have heard about this. He glared at Golding for what seemed like an eternity, crossed his arms, and scoffed, "Did dad put you up to this?"

     "I'd suggest for you, Mr. North, to shut your mouth," he said.

     "But I did nothing wrong."

     "I said, I advise you to shut up. Your father asked me to."

     Typical.

     Robert North would sniff any trouble no matter how vast the distance was between him and the rest of the family. Tyler sat defiantly and glared at Golding harder.

     "Well, dad is not here, so, I'm going to cooperate with these nice people," gritted Tyler.

     Mara Robles hid a smirk. She had long brown hair that she tied into a ponytail, wearing a white shirt, a black blazer, and dark slacks. When Tyler expected her to wear dress shoes, he was surprised to find her only wearing white sneakers. The other detective, Scott Peterson, screamed authority: Black tie, black blazer, a white shirt, black pants, and black dress shoes. He even had sunglasses on tucked inside his front pocket.

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