Lies Whispered From the Past

This was not how Hector envisioned his Saturday night: being taken in the police station getting questioned for Kiki's death. The video Cassie sent out had been the break in the case the detectives had been looking for, and the fact his student ID was found at the house (not to mention they were testing for fingerprints) only incriminated him further. He hadn't planned on doing anything to her. He snuck in to see if Cassie was there, because she wasn't home. He went in, didn't see Cassie, and they got into a nasty fight. He did push Kiki again, he'd admit that. She hit the back of her head hard against a chair. She didn't move. But here's the thing: she was still fully clothed when he ran out of the house. There was no blood. There was no way he killed her.
" Mr. Johnson, high school freshman. Let's cut to the chase. We have a video of you sneaking into Miss Sutton's home the night of her murder. We also have your ID left on the scene and when testing comes back, we'll have your fingerprints inside of a house you weren't suppose to be at. From witness accounts, we know you and the victim weren't the best of friends. She's dead and you were there that night, mind explaining that?" The officer looked him dead in the eye. Hector glanced at his name tag, Officer Jordan McCallahan. Hector darted his eyes away. His mom was right next to him, giving him the death glare.
" Okay, okay. I went to her house that night. I went there only because her best friend, Cassandra Styles, and I were good friends, and we had a falling out. I wanted to make up with her. She wasn't home, so I figured she was at Kiki's house. I snuck in through the window, climbing on a ladder left outside. I hopped in through her bedroom window and I didn't see Cassie. I just saw Kiki. We fought, it didn't get physical, and I left. That's all, I swear." Hector looked to his mom.
" I already see several inconsistencies with your story. You see, we already interviewed Miss Styles, and she told us you've acted nothing but cold to her since your falling out. Just the other day she tried to talk to you in the lunch room, and several witnesses said you brushed her off. You were--nasty. Why that one time you wanted to make up with her and since Miss Sutton's death you've acted nothing but rude to her?"
Hector didn't respond.
" Secondly, if all you wanted to do was talk, why did you decide to leave your student ID flat on her bedroom table? I mean, that's where we found it. And only one set of fingerprints are on it. Yours, we presume?"
Hector remained silent.
" Another thing, we found the ladder on the east wing of the Sutton property. Miss Sutton resided on the west wing, so it wasn't right by her bedroom window. Unless you moved it up there and put it back, but the thing is, there are no fingerprints on the ladder. And the video depicts you as not wearing any gloves the time you're on it. You had no bags, no pockets, so that's not possible, now is it?"
Ms. Johnson looked as though she was fixing to say something, but quickly clamped her jaw square shut.
" Now why don't you tell me---"
" Detective McCallahan?" a woman in pink asked.
" Yes, Melinda?"
" The results of the fingerprint test came back, can we step outside for a sec?"
" Of course."
There was a stiff silence that overcame the room for a second. Then, Ms. Johnson broke that silence.
" Why the hell did you step foot in that girl's house, and boy, you better not lie to me because I swear to God, me, the officers, and the residents will be on you like white on rice." She whispered-yelled.
" I just wanted to see Cassie, honestly."
" Well they don't believe you, and frankly, I don't either. The way you've been acting lately---"
Officer--Detective McCallahan re-entered the room.
" Well, even better news for your case, Mr. Johnson. Fingerprint testing confirmed your prints were all over her room and her body. That brings us to another inconsistency. If your fight didn't get physical, why are your prints under her own fingernails? I guess that would explain the scrapes on your arm."
Hector looked down on his left arm, the scratches that provoked him to push Kiki.
" Now, why don't you tell me what actually happened?"
" I'm short, I lack muscles, my hair is dorky, and my mom still dresses me like a twelve year old. I can't even leave the house after nine'o clock. Do I look like a killer? Do I sound like one to you?"
Hector was right, he still looked like a middle school child. He didn't even start shaving yet. He still wore glasses, and he'd just gotten his braces tightened. He looked like a typical sixth grader, yet he was 15 years old. But, as Detective McCallahan knew, looks could be decieving. It was always the baby-faced ones...
" Looks don't matter, actions do. Know tell me what happened."
" We're done here." His mother abruptly announced, scopping him up.
" Not so fast. We're investigating a murder here. His fingerprints are all over the body. We got more than enough evidence to keep him in holding."
" That's proposterous. Do you even have the murder weapon?"
" We do. We just sent it upstate for advanced, safe testing. His prints will be on that, too."
" Mind telling us what it is?"
" Her baby pink lamp. It was plugged in by her bed."
Hector's eyes popped out of his head. He knocked over the lamp and desperately tried to keep it from falling. His prints really were all over it. This was bad, very bad.
" You haven't even arrested him yet."
" Thanks, almost forgot. Hector Allen Johnson, you are under arrest for the murder of Kiana Sutton." Then the handcuffs were slapped on his wrists. He didn't hear anything else. He was too horrified.
" This is outrageous! Don't worry, honey! I'll get you out of here!"

**************************

Hector's mom just finished signing the last paper for his release. His bail money drowned out her emergency savings account. He felt too guilty. It had been a long night. The second he got home, he ran into his room and locked the door. His mom didn't even bother to go after him.
About two hours later, he heard a strange noise right outside in the hallway. It was his mother and Detective McCallahan. What were they doing?
" I met up with a girl downtown. She showed me these photos, said I would need these later for my son. She was so right. How would Highland Heights feel about a decorated officer having an affair with a high school senior? What about his wife and kids? Think about the uproar it would cause." He heard his mother. He decided to open his door up a crack, to get a better listen.
" Who gave you those photos?"
" You don't need to know. All you need to do is stop hounding my son and drop the case you're building against him. If you do so, I'll burn these photos."
" You don't understand, it's not that simple---"
" No, you don't understand. I have a meeting with your boss and the mayor tomorrow, I'll be waiting."
" I don't want to drag Nikki Sutton into this, come on. Her own cousin is the victim and---"
" She won't have to be, if you do as I say."
" It won't be easy."
" I'll do anything to protect my son. Anything."
McCallahan sighed. " Okay, consider it done."
And he walked off and left. Just like that.
An idea popped into Hector's head. Nikki Sutton was sleeping with McCallanhan. He could use the affair to find out more information of the night of Kiki's murder. He'd just have to go straight to the source... whoever gave his mother the photos. He'd need to be sneaky, though. He couldn't afford anymore mistakes. The problem was, his mother wasn't talking. Maybe she'd taken the photos and lied to cover her tracks. Or someone threatened her to keep quiet. He really didn't know, but he needed a plan on how to approach this. Quite literally,

it meant life or death