Pressed

[ JACK ]

We are now currently in the interrogation room. Nothing but a chair, a hanging light bulb above the ceiling, and a table where Ms. Jacqueline Salazar, our new lead, is currently placing her hands on.

I am standing in front of the old woman I just cross paths with a while ago. She's acting really strange even now with her eyes not even looking mine. Looking at her from here, is like looking at a very uncanny premise. Just that white hair and that sweater she's wearing, it kind of giving her a very suspicious vibe.

"So you went to The Parfait a while ago, today, right?"

She couldn't look directly into my eyes as I was asking. When people cannot look straight on a cop's eyes, that means there's something going on. My job had never been easy, but my gut never left me behind every case that I've worked on for the past years.

"Umh that, Uh - I'm so sorry. Okay, I was lying. I didn't go to The Parfait this morning."

Too early for her to reveal how she's playing me. He's inside my precinct and she's not even aware that everything she's doing and saying is being recorded.

She just confessed that she lied to me. Now, what more could this old woman do, peeking to have a look at Dr. Gutierrez's house? My suspicions keep on piling up. There's something going on with her.

"Right. Then there it is. You lied. Well, if that's the case, what are you doing there at the crime scene? Are you feeling guilty of something you just did back there?"

She looked at me. Troubled. shocked.

"What? No - Officer, I don't know what you're talking about. But what I am sure of is that, you're having the wrong person."

I came closer to her and placed my right leg on top of the table as she said those. My eyes get inches nearer to her face as I squint them. "Am I? or are you having the wrong officer to mess up with?"

Everything about her seemed agitated by something. She's acting stiff and reserved. You know it when someone acts weird and I can feel like this time, she is. She looked at me with a gaze of confusion and a few moments after, she started wandering her eyes around the room. Avoiding me. I have a gut feeling about this old lady and I cannot let her get away with this. When I feel something's wrong, I know there actually is.

Mrs. Salazar took her hands off the table and composed herself. I heard her sighed heavily. I took my legs off the table and started to stand firm, attempting to squeeze her tight, and eventually, confess something helpful for this crime.

"So, if there's really nothing going on with you, tell me everything about yourself. What is your name, where do you live, and what do you do for a living."

I know this time she could never mess this up.

"Okay (sighs), so, I am Jacqueline Salazar, 52 years old. I am a widow. No children. And I am living uh, alone."

"Yeah, but the last question again. What do you do for a living?"

"I, uh--" She stammered and paused for a second. She's probably thinking of a good alibi for that question. She couldn't keep her eyes from looking side to side. "I - Umh, I do nothing. Just, you know, living a life of my own in an apartment."

She looked at the ground and the sudden shift of her mood became visible. A while ago, she's kind of uneasy. But now, she's sad and full of doubts and regrets in her eyes. As she told me about living alone and all that, it hit her. I can see the feeling she's trying to hold back.

"Right. Okay, so.. you're widowed and had no children? interesting. How are you paying rent and having food of your own?"

She put her right hand on her chest and her left on her mouth. I can see her shedding tears from a juncture. I was just waiting patiently for an answer, until she burst out crying. It must be hard for her to keep a living on her own. I kind of feel pity. Things are starting to involve her feelings and I feel like a sudden role play she's into.

After a few moments of crying, she answered the question.

"I don't know, officer.. I was just a 52 year old woman trying to keep a living by begging people for some coins and pennies. To be honest with you, I am not paying rent for months now. but ever since my landlord knew my story, she just let me stay."

To be honest, what I heard was a bit heart pinching. Or even heartwarming. But work is work, and I have to deal with this the most rational way possible.

"Mrs.. I mean, Ms. Salazar. I know what you're feeling right now. But you have to understand that what we're working on right now is far more than what your life had in the past. I'm just saying, if this is the alibi you're going to come up with, you have to make it sound better. I don't believe you."

I smiled at her and.. she acted surprised by it.

***

[ BECCA ]

"I am John Bryan Gutierrez. Why are you looking for me?"

Bryan opened the door as policemen approached him and put handcuffs on his hands behind. It was swift and I couldn't even do a thing to stop them.

"You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything can and will be against you against the court of law." The officer just dragged him outside the hospital room as I follow them both. We both looked at each other, both feeling tensed.

"Wait! Sir do you have an arrest warrant for this? Look, this is just -- Sir! what is going on?"

We continued walking out of the hospital until we reached the exit door. There were cop cars parked outside in my glance and they were heading there, holding Bryan on his shoulders. I tried to stop them by holding the officer by his arms. I am thrilled by this sudden appearance of cars. It seemed a twist of faith, like a fallacy covering us all. Bryan is innocent.

The police officer stopped for a while and turned around, facing me.

"Please stay back, ma'am. This is connected to Dr. Gutierrez's death."

I shuddered. Stefano's death?

"Sir, Why? I mean, what is happening?"

We continued walking out of the building until we are in front of a cop car. We stopped for a second as the officer started telling me something that made me quiver.

"A stab wound on Dr. Gutierrez's chest matched with his son's Chinese sword, found on a restaurant near 7th Avenue."

The officer held Bryan on his head and arched his back down as the cop car doors were opened. I never moved after hearing what the officer has said. They went inside a wailing car, and drove away leaving me frozen as a block. I didn't know what to do after that. My senses piled up like a caution as though everything the cop told me was an imagery of a set up.

I did not move seeing them leave. Bryan, why would he be pressed like that? What was that about? The Chinese sword collection he quitted it months ago. He does not even have those swords.

I hurriedly ran back inside the hospital room and took my phone at the table beside the bed. I need to call Gina and inform her about this. I am feeling anxious. Dialing my phone had me shaking. It didn't feel the screen, but I still tried to find her name on my phonebook application.

As I found it, the ringing echoed on the other line while I was standing there, feeling uneasy as hell. "Hello, Becca, I just bought us some foo--" I interrupted Gina as she speaks.

"Gina, Bryan was taken by cops a while ago. He's now one of the suspects of Stefano's death." I involuntarily bit my nails acting scared all of a sudden.

"Huh, what?? Are you - Wait okay, I'm coming back there."

"Please, please hurry we have to go at the police station.."

"Right, wait for me. I'm on my way"

We hung up. What is happening. Who is doing all this?

After I took my phone down, I started walking back and forth of the room, in circles, feeling uneasy, bothered.

I'm having anxiety attacks. Again.

***

[ JASON ]

It was my fifth redial but Jacqueline is still not answering. She might have been into some trouble. She might have been seen by a cop peeping out, trying to get some details. Though, at the back of my mind, I know she could get away with it. She just have to cry just like how she does every time and she'll get away with it.

There, I sat on the sofa and put myself at ease. I turned the TV on again and a news flash came. New leads about the South Coast Medical Hospital Ob-gyn murder.

I sent a text to every dealer near Jacqueline's residence. I was asking them about where they could find her. And if they do, contact me. After I sent it, I head back watching.

I was just skimming the news when a call came to me. None of my dealers can contact Jacqueline. They can't even find her. Where is she? What's taking her this long? Thinking about stuff and that made the imagery even worse. This could have possibly mean that she is still not coming home. She's probably being pressed by now.

I immediately stood up and contacted one of my avid customers: Michael Fahrendorf

(phone ringing)

"Hello, my friend. What's wrong with the business?"

A comforting voice answered me from the other line.

"Nothing, buddy. Just want you to fix some things for me."

"Sure, sure. Just say it and I'll do as you please."

This is one of the reasons why this business is lasting. In strong businesses like this, you have to have someone stronger in order for you to keep going. You need a foundation that has your back.

In businesses, when you can have VIP's, you can also have VVIP's. A more inclusive and oligarch offer of being on top of the priority list.

"One of my dealers, Jacqueline Salazar, might be in your local police department right now. I want you to check it. And if she's there somewhere, just get her out."

"Pfft-- that would be easy. Alright, I'll check on her and oh - don't forget my dose. Okay?"

I know Michael can do everything. He is powerful.

As he said that it would be easy for him, I responded back. "Thank you, Mayor."