Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

Pause. A daring stare. I say nothing. She continues.
“What can you tell us about it?”
“Am I under arrest?”
She seems taken aback by that, but quickly recovers her
composure. “No.”
“Then perhaps you could direct your attention to the open
investigation of my missing fiancé, and come back when you
have something.”
I start to shut the door, but the other officer says, “We
know you were at the restaurant last night.”
I stop, draw a steadying breath, and look at him. “I’m
sorry, we haven’t been introduced. What’s your name?”
He unfolds his arms and casually rests a hand on the butt
of the firearm strapped to the utility belt at his waist. I get the
impression it’s a ploy to intimidate me. Instead, it royally
pisses me off.
There’s nothing more I hate than a bully.
He points to the badge on his chest. “O’Donnell.”
Keeping my tone pleasant, I say, “Officer O’Donnell, take
your colleague and get off my porch. Unless you have new
information about the disappearance of my fiancé, I have
nothing to say to either one of you.”
Detective Brown says, “We could make you come to the
station with us to have a chat.”
“Only if you’re arresting me. Which you’ve already said
you’re not.”
Boy, she really doesn’t like me. Her look could peel the
paper right off the walls.
“Why would you refuse to cooperate with us if you have
nothing to hide?”
“Citizens are under no obligation to speak to the police.
Even if they’re accused of a crime. Even if they’re in jail. Am
I right?”