Blinding blue and red lights engulfed the cemetery. Officers swarmed the headstones around Mal's body, donned in ponchos and carrying black umbrellas. The way they held themselves so guarded with their guns so close caused Emmett to tense up. He didn't trust cops.

Perhaps calling the police wasn't a great idea. Despite how Emmett kept himself together, his heartbeat hammered in his chest. It had been a long time since he'd been near so many officers.

Memories from the night when Emmett was only eight-years-old resurfaced. Those asshole cops came knocking on their door in the dead of night. Emmett remembered it like it was yesterday. He cowered behind his father, peeking out at the two officers who informed their family of his mother being shot on the job. They just neglected to tell them at the time how one of their own people had shot her. They misled them into thinking a criminal had got her, when in reality, her own partner turned on her.

Ever since then, Emmett refused to trust the police. Those who'd sworn to serve and protect their community almost killed his mother, who'd been one of them. Something about the way those officers tonight approached them unnerved Emmett. Keeping close to Kazimir, he interlocked their fingers together.

"We'll need to ask y'all some questions about what you found here tonight." A rotund detective adjusted his coonskin hat. "You're the one who called, right? Emmett Larson? I'd like to have a word with you. Alone." He narrowed his glare at Kazimir, who trembled beside Emmett.

"Kaz is staying with me," Emmett told him. "We both found Mal. You can question us together."

Detective fatass coughed a nasty wad of phlegm on the ground, muttering something under his breath. Fucking brat were the only comprehensive words he caught. Thankfully, the detective didn't argue and let his prettier female partner take over.

Delilah O'Hara's chestnut hair flowed freely in the wind. Raindrops raced down her police issued bomber jacket.

"What the hell happened here?" Detective O'Hara asked, honing in on Emmett. "Why are y'all out here so late? The cemetery closed hours ago."

"Mal sent me a text. Told me to come help him," Emmett replied. "I just thought he'd gotten in a fight."

"And you didn't think to call the cops?" Detective O'Hara asked.

"What for? What would you have done about it?" Emmett countered. "I figured someone attacked Mal, so we came to pick him up, drive him to a clinic if he'd been hurt. I just didn't expect... this."

"Come on, Larson. You're hiding something. Quit beating around the bush," Detective O'Hara said. "What are y'all really doing out here? Is this a drug deal gone wrong?"

Emmett shrugged. "I have no idea what Mal was doing out here."

Detective O'Hara groaned. "We can't help your friend if you don't help us. Hiding things from the police won't work well in your favor. You both already look suspicious being out here."

"You think we killed him?" Emmett scoffed. "I thought you were better than this. Don't tell me those sexist pigs finally got to you. What reason would we have for killing Mal? Why would we stick around and call the cops? You think I want to get arrested?"

Detective O'Hara froze. "No, I don't think y'all killed him, but you can't deny how bad this looks on both of you. Just tell me why you're really out here. Was it a planned fight? A drug deal? You won't get in trouble for being honest and helping us."

"That fuckhead partner of yours only let you talk to us because he didn't wanna do it himself. You think the gangs treat women like shit, but you know damn well it's no better with them." Emmett gestured behind him, where the other cops were on the scene. "That's why you're over here with us and nowhere near the scene of the crime. They don't trust a dainty little woman like you not to screw up."

"Nice try, but your mind games don't work on me," Detective O'Hara said. "We'll just take y'all in for questioning instead. You can be interrogated by my partner." She gestured to fatass.

Emmett frowned. "Look, it's possible a drug deal might've gone down here. I've got no proof of that though. Your best bet is pulling the security cam footage. I'm sure they've got a camera at the mausoleum, right? We've told you everything that we know. If you don't mind, I'd like to get the hell out of this rain. Can't we wait back in my truck? Be our escort if you must."

Detective O'Hara looked impatient. "Fine, let's go."

Before heading out of the rain, Detective O'Hara informed her partner of the plan. Such a pushover, that detective was. It made Emmett sick to his stomach. What the hell made her stay with the police department? Perhaps it was her desire for justice and need to make their world better, something his mother used to always say too. Some day, she'd probably meet a fate similar to his mother's.

In his periphery, he made out the flashes of a camera. It made Emmett freeze. Frigid raindrops nipped his face as he focused on the criminal forensic, who photo-documented Mal's dead body. Putting on a poker face, Emmett stuffed his trembling hands in his pockets. It was standard procedure. They needed it for their investigation.

Crossing through the headstones as rain pelted them, a silhouette near the gate caught his eye. Just as quick as it emerged, it disappeared from the moonlight shining down on them.

"Did you see that?" Emmett asked.

"See what?" Detective O'Hara opened the gate, turning her head toward him.

"Never mind." Emmett shook his head. "Just thought I saw someone over there. Didn't you say someone else pulled up here, Kaz?"

Kazimir nodded. "Yeah, someone in a red truck. Dunno where they went. Must've taken off."

"This some kind of trick to get me distracted?" Detective O'Hara smirked. "You'll have to do better than that."

"It wasn't a trick," Emmett told her. "Kaz saw someone out here while I was trying to find Mal. You need to look into them. That might've been his killer."

Shadows twisted among the trees and headstones. Someone still lurked in that cemetery. Whoever it was had been watching them. A chill coursed down Emmett's spine. Clenching his fists at his sides, he braced himself for whatever hell awaited them.

Emmett wouldn't cower from Mal's killer. He'd make sure the bastard suffered a slow and excruciating death.

💀

Rain pelted the hood of the cruiser that escorted them down to the station, but the windshield wipers batted the ferocious droplets away. Shifting on the cracked leather seat, Emmett willed himself to stay still. He needed a smoke. He needed something to erase the horrid image of Mal's bloody body from his mind.

A glass barrier separated Kazimir and Emmett from the two detectives up front. Detective fatass munched on a pack of beef jerky stuffed behind all their other gadgets. Their radio cracked to life with reports of a fender-bender out on the highway.

Despite how the detectives assured him that they only needed to take their statements, Emmett didn't trust them. The police weren't on his side. They'd use anything he told them against him. As long as they weren't interrogated, they'd be free to leave whenever they wanted. Emmett didn't mind playing nice.

The police cruiser came to a halt in front of the colossal station house building, and Emmett's stomach lurched. He tugged at the collar of his hoodie, bathing in the petrichor after Detective O'Hara opened his door. Rainwater splashed at his ankles as he crossed through the puddles in the parking lot. The wetness seeped down to his freezing toes, squelching with each footstep. Kazimir stayed right beside him as the two detectives escorted them inside.

A petite lady with pencil-thin brows made eye-contact with him as they passed the front desk. She popped a peppermint in her mouth before turning her attention to a clunky computer monitor in front of her.

"Should we have a lawyer present?" Emmett asked, pausing mid-way to an interview room.

Detective O'Hara frowned. "Do you feel like you need one? Neither of you are under arrest. We just want to take your official statements. Figured it would be better in here than out in the pouring rain, don't you?"

Emmett folded his arms over his chest. A stern glare was directed at the detective. "We'll give our statement together. Not in separate rooms to be treated like suspects."

"It would be more favorable to speak to you separately–"

"If not, we leave," Emmett told her. "You said we're not under arrest, which means we're not obligated to stay and answer any of your questions. We told you everything out at the cemetery. A friend can come pick us up."

Kazimir leaned closer to him. "Yeah, I'm only talking if Emmett stays by my side."

Emmett flashed him a reassuring smile, giving Kazimir's hand a squeeze.

After exchanging words with her partner, Detective O'Hara relented. "Fine. We'll take you to the same room. It's just this way." She led them to the door at the bottom of the room, passing by detective desks. "I'm sure you both have been here before."

"I'd have thought y'all would've fixed up the room after all this time," Emmett remarked. The wallpaper peeled in several places, the chairs wobbled like the screws were about to come out, and the roof was leaking. "Your stupid little bucket in the corner ain't helping." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Perhaps Kaz could give ya a hand."

Kazimir tensed up. "Oh, I'm sure they have their own crew for that."

"I'll be sure to let Sergeant Davidson know about the décor," Detective O'Hara muttered. "We've got someone coming to fix the roof this weekend."

"Considering how you people falsely accused Kaz before, don't expect any discounts from him." Emmett sneered, plopping down on one of the wobbly chairs. Kazimir sat beside him on the other one.

"You like to get under people's skin, don'tcha Larson?" Detective O'Hara pulled out her own chair, taking a seat. "Despite how squeaky clean your record is, we know you're involved in some shady shit."

"Now, I thought this was just us giving our statement, Detective O'Hara. What's with the accusations? Do I need to get Daniel Coleman down here?"

"My apologies." Detective O'Hara rested her hands on the table, clasped together. "Can you tell us why Mal would be at the cemetery in the middle of the night?" she questioned. "And why y'all showed up to save him so quickly. I mean, most people sleep at this time. What kept y'all awake?"

"I was actually asleep," Kazimir replied. "Emmett woke me, saying Mal needed our help. I had no idea what was going on. I was half-asleep when we headed out to the cemetery."

"And you?" She glared at Emmett.

"Insomnia." Emmett shrugged. "I don't sleep well at night. Shit weighs on my mind a lot. I'm sure you can understand. So, while chilling in the living room, I got a text from Mal. Like I told you before, I thought he'd been jumped. Mal doesn't like the cops and the cops don't like him either. I was gonna drive him to a clinic to treat any injuries."

"Or join in on the fight?" Detective O'Hara pressed.

"Again with the accusations," Emmett muttered. "Nobody else was around when we first got there. We've been through this. There's nothing else to tell. Mal might've been dabbling in drugs, but I don't know that. My guess is that he wanted to fight someone. Probably to protect his girl."

Detective O'Hara frowned. "His girl? Who's that? Is she involved with the gangs?"

Leaning forward, Emmett smirked. "You don't know?"

"Why would I?" Detective O'Hara frowned.

"Just figured someone like you would keep tabs on all the gang members. Maybe not." Emmett shrugged.

"You gonna keep us in suspense?" Detective Fatass asked, finally speaking up from where he towered over them. "Spill it. Who was he seeing?"

"Jules Kaufman. Mayor Kaufman's daughter. They've been keeping it quiet," Emmett replied. "Not sure if you're aware, but Jules relapsed again and has been living with Mal. She's pregnant with their baby. My guess? Her family couldn't handle her anymore and kicked her ass out."

Detective O'Hara reclined back in her chair, lips pursed as she fought back a grin. "Well, things certainly got a heck of a lot more interesting now."

"There's also a chance that Jules' family figured out," Emmett told her. "I wouldn't put it past those uptight bastards to do something like this. If it got leaked that Jules was with someone like Mal, it would ruin them."

"Now, that's a heavy accusation against the mayor's family," Detective O'Hara warned.

"If I thought the old fucker had the wits about him, I'd accuse him personally," Emmett scoffed. "Mal could've fought that piece of shit off. Which means he probably had another gang member do his dirty work."

"While your theories are entertaining, you have no evidence to back them up," Detective Fatass said.

Detective O'Hara sighed. "You can't go accusing respectable people of heinous crimes either. You need to learn your place."

"Maybe you need to learn your place," Emmett snapped.

"Emmett." Kazimir grabbed his lover's arm tightly, glaring at him. "Don't be stupid. You'll give them a reason to arrest you." He spared an apologetic glance at the detectives. "We're just trying to figure out who would do this to our friend. I'm sorry."

Detective O'Hara waved a dismissive hand. "You've got nothing to apologize for, Kazimir. It's your friend here who needs to learn some respect."

"I'm no ass-kisser." Emmett abruptly rose from the chair, almost knocking it over. "We're not suspects, so we're free to leave. You've got everything you need to know about the crime scene from us. Next time, my lawyer will be present. Come on, Kaz. We're leaving."

"But how will we get home?" Kazimir asked, reluctantly standing up to follow after him.

"Calling Alfie to come pick us up now." Emmett stormed across the rows of police desks, pressing his phone to his ear.

Struggling to keep up with Emmett's long strides, Kazimir kept his head down. Emmett knew he wasn't fond of the attention, but he needed to get the hell out of there. He felt the glares of the other officers on him, but he didn't give a shit. Detective O'Hara yelled something, but Emmett couldn't hear it over the thunderous beating of his heart.

By the time they reached the lobby, Kazimir caught up to Emmett. The gang leader stuffed his phone back in his pocket, tugging his hood over his head.

"Alfie should be here soon. We'll wait outside." Emmett took Kazimir's hand in his, leading him outside the police station. "Even after all this time, they still treat us like shit. That bitch detective doesn't care about Mal. She just wants to find something on me."

Shivering, Kazimir snuggled closer to Emmett. They walked as far away from the police station building as they could. Emmett worried that they might chase after them, but since they weren't being treated as official suspects, he considered it lucky that they left them alone. Or perhaps they watched them from security cameras around the perimeter.

"What happens now?" Kazimir asked softly.

"We'll find the fucker who hurt Mal. Nobody gets away with hurting one of our own," Emmett told him. "Fuck these dumbass cops. Should've known they'd be no help."

"You think storming out like that was a good idea? What if they think we were involved? They're going to be watching us closely now. You should've just stayed and answered their questions."

Emmett shook his head. "I wasn't thinking clearly, I'm sorry. I'm just... I don't know. Didn't expect to find Mal out there dead. I'm trying to figure shit out and those fuckers clearly don't care what happened to him. It's nothing like with your neighbor. They were so adamant about finding Hank's killer. Someone like Mal doesn't deserve that special treatment."

"I know. They see Mal as nothing but another thug who got shot dealing." Kazimir leaned his head against Emmett's shoulder, peering out at the vacant road ahead of them. "But we can't have the cops on our asses. Remember how awful that was for me then when they accused me of Hank's murder? We'll never find his killer with them always watching us."

"Losing my cool back there was ignorant. I just didn't have the patience for them." Emmett pulled his Zippo and cigarettes out, lighting one up while they waited.

It wasn't long before Alfie pulled up to the station in his car. Emmett climbed into the passenger seat while Kazimir got in the back. Loud music pounded in his ears as Emmett's right-hand sped off. The windshield wipers swished at a rapid speed to keep the raindrops away.

"Fuck did y'all do now?" Alfie asked, reaching over to turn his music down a notch. "Ya know damn well I didn't wanna get out of bed in this shit."

"Mal's dead," Emmett told him. "We found him at Serenity Cemetery."

"How the hell..? What happened?" Alfie asked, mouth gaped in shock.

Emmett explained everything that happened, leading up to them finding Mal dead at the cemetery.

Who wanted Mal dead? Did he try to get the drugs he lost back and get killed for it?