Collecting Evidence

Larry

I'm sitting in the back of the squad car, wishing I was anywhere but here. Unfortunately, I'm heading to the grand state of New York for a murder I didn't commit.

Why won't they believe me? Why? I question, leaning my head against the ice-covered glass. I look up to find snow falling from the murky gray skies above, making the day even gloomier.

"Are you warm enough back there?" one of the officers asks, turning to face me.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Seeing the jelly stains on his uniform and powdered sugar residing on the corners of his mouth brings an old joke to mind. Smiling, I turn towards the window.

"So, why did you do it?" the cop questions.

"I didn't kill my family. I swear I didn't," I plea.

"Don't tell us then. I don't care."

"You don't understand. I'm being framed."

Jefferies rolls his eyes. "I've heard that excuse more times than I can count."

"That's for sure," his partner Michaels agrees.

"It's the truth. I swear it is."