The Box

1

Six-Three Precinct 11:43 Hours

IR Room #3

Ethan Martin sat linked to the four-by-four metal table inside Interrogation room number four, the box.

Kelly's Uncle Mike switched the cuffs to a more comfortable pair that gave Ethan Martin more range of motion but still restricted his hand movements.

He stared at the pale yellow walls, their surface marred by unsightly stains of spit, mucous, and what appeared to be blood.

He couldn't take his eyes off the five-by-seven-foot one-way window. His gaze locked onto its transparency. The heavy aluminum frame surrounded the scratched glass, marked with streaks of black and reflecting a dim light that created a metallic sheen.

He had watched enough television to know he was being watched by detectives behind that glass.

"What next?" said Max.

Kelly's dad tapped her on the shoulder with a gentle rub as she looked at him. She found the same kind and caring eyes of his son. Although she found some comfort, it fell short.

"I'm going in, and I'm going to make this piece of shit talk," he said. "He'll never see the light of day again. That much, I promise you." He straightened up and sighed. "And when I give the signal, you'll come in, and I want you to stand over him and say hello. That'll rattle him to his core."

Maxine nodded.

"We've built it up so that when he sees you," said Kelly's Uncle Mike. "He'll feel like he's coming face-to-face with a ghost. Trust me."

As she watched Kelly's dad loosen his tie and roll his sleeves, she experienced an overwhelming dread.

She flashed back to the sight of Casey DeLorre, and the sickness that permeated her spirit and physical being evoked a familiar sensation. The sight of Casey's decomposing body, the faint sound of the Alpha Corvus and his murder, and the overwhelming stench of rot all mirrored her experience at the sight of Ethan Martin in the box.

2

Kelly's dad entered the room with the folder in his hand. His countenance had changed from one of comfort to one of rage. His body stiffened, and he pulled back his shoulders. A quick glance at the glass revealed squinting eyes with pinpoint pupils and a flexed jaw.

He pulled back the chair but didn't sit. After pushing it against the center of the wall holding the one-way-mirror he jammed his left hand into his pocket, and his right palm covered his eye.

"I'm Lieutenant John Kelly from Major Case. And you are—"

Kelly's dad inflated his cheeks before sighing. He opened the folder pretending not to know Martin's name.

"Ethan the child rapist. Yep, you're going to jail for a very long time," he said. He stepped to the edge of the table, commanding Ethan's gaze. "Forget baseball, college, and any other freaking plans you have. You're going straight to Central Booking, and your world is about to change forever. And by the time I'm done with you, the prosecutor's office will seek the death penalty."

"For what? For having fun with a few girls?"

Kelly's dad shook his head and pointed at him with his finger.

"Shut up," he snapped. "You were Mirandized at the school, but I'm not taking any chances."

In the observation room, Kelly's Uncle Mike looked at Max and smiled as Kelly's dad read Martin his rights in the box.

"Watch for triggers," he said. "The idea here is to put him under stress, recognize those triggers, and then remove his ability to express them."

Max watched as Kelly's dad gave Ethan space by stepping back and leaning on the wall. Ethan tried to speak, but didn't have the chance.

"I said shut up!"

Maxine's sickness and the ominous feelings of death and fright dissipated as she watched Kelly's dad walk to the opposite side of the table.

"So here's the thing, junior," he said. "We've gotten the DNA and toxicology reports back from three of your victims. All have your DNA and tested positive for GHB." Kelly's dad raised his eyebrows and smirked. "And two are sixteen years old. That makes you a pedophile."

"We were just having fun," said Ethan. His voice trembled before gulping. "I mean, I wasn't the only one banging those girls. Plus, I'll tell you where I got the drugs from—"

"Shadow Possee, yeah, we know. We know everything about your little raves and orgies." Kelly's dad put his back against the wall to Martin's left and folded his arms.

"Thanks to a great judge and your mobile carrier, we got the pictures and videos from your phone. Oh yeah, and ah, everyone you sent them to."

"I want my father," he shouted.

Ethan Martin's face was pale, and his lips quivered. He drummed on the desk, and his left leg shook as it rattled against the leg of the four-by-four metal table.

Behind the glass, Captain Kelly smiled and looked at Maxine. Returning his gesture, Maxine adjusted her open collar and white t-shirt beneath her kevlar and long-sleeved shirt.

"Did he get his phone call?" said Maxine.

"Not yet," said Kelly's Uncle Mike. "But the school and Detective Bongiovanni notified his parents. That's all we need to do."

That's why Kelly's father keeps telling him to shut up and not ask questions. He's getting the kid to confess and bury himself.

In the box, Kelly's dad put his hands and the folder on the table beside Martin's left shoulder. He pursed his lips and stared, Martin refusing to look him in the eye.

"Look, genius. We've identified everyone in your little text group. Detective Nieves from Gangs even got the infamous Shadow Posse enforcer, Leprechaun's cell number, with your blatant 'need date rape shit' texts. But there's one unknown number belonging to a burner cell."

Kelly's dad straightened up and moved to the front of the table. He opened the folder, took the five pictures of X-4's victims, and laid them on the table. He spread them out with both hands and outstretched fingers.

Ethan Martin turned away to look over his right shoulder but found it difficult being cuffed to the table.

"Don't want to look, got it," said Kelly's dad. "Here's another one." He slid a sixth photo across the metal desk. This time, however, he pushed the picture against the corner edge, daring Ethan to look. "Your DNA is all over this one. Yep, someone strangled her, and she died that night at Peck Memorial."

In the box, Kelly's Uncle Mike folded his arms. He nodded with a smirk before tapping Maxine on the back.

"Get ready," he said. "He just showed little Ethan your picture."

Maxine inhaled and held her breath in her lungs. As she exhaled, she noticed the weight of anxiety dissipating like a heavy fog lifting. And as Maxine watched Ethan glance at the picture of 'Krystal,' the tension that had once burdened her shoulders and constricted her neck loosened.

In the box, Ethan could feel his heart racing and his breath quickening. In an instant, his eyes grew wider than ever, and he startled in his seat. He kicked the right leg by accident as the chains rattled, pulling him back down. His palms flared with intensity, and his head nodded in a constant rhythm.

"No way, bro. I didn't do that. I—I mean, I don't even know who she is. That was her first time and—"

"You texted the burner number," snapped Kelly's dad. "And I quote, 'We're on our way out.' Then, two minutes later, you called the same number and had a forty-five-second conversation."

Kelly's father put his hands on the table, took two pieces of paper, and pushed them in front of Ethan.

"And here is the same text and phone pattern on the night that Stephanie Laskowski, Ashley Liloia, Casey DeLorre, and Ximenia Carvalho all went missing."

Ethan's hands trembled in the cuffs as tears fell down his cheeks. He opened his mouth but couldn't speak.

He looked at the glass, straining to see behind it, hoping that someone would rescue him. Instead, Kelly's dad stepped from the table, turned his back, and nodded. The long-awaited time had come.