The Dead Room by Robert Ellis

ago,” Teddy said. “They wouldn’t accept the charges. Who was it?”
    A moment passed, Holmes still burying his face in his hands. “My sister,” he said finally. “She wouldn’t talk to me.”
    Holmes peeked through his fingers. His eyes were the color of a faded pair of jeans and looked just as ragged. Teddy pushed his chair back slightly and made a point of crossing his legs, trying to get some distance without Holmes noticing or becoming upset.
    “No one will talk to me,” Holmes said, closing his fingers and hiding in the dark again. “Everyone’s afraid. Even you.”
    “What happened to your hands?”
    “They got cut. You saw ’em. What kind of question is that? You trying to figure out if I really did it or not?”
    Teddy grimaced. “How’d they get cut?”
    “I don’t remember,” he said, jumping to his feet. “They’re gonna kill me for this, aren’t they? They’re gonna stick the needle in and watch me go to sleep. All those people watching me sleep. They want to get rid of me. They always have.”
    Teddy wasn’t sure how to react. Holmes was working himself into a frenzy, pacing back and forth in the small room and slamming his fists into the cinder block walls as he made the turns. Teddy checked his watch. Ten-thirty. It’d been a long day on shit duty, and he decided he’d finally had enough.
    “Fuck you, Holmes.”
    The man stopped pacing like he’d been slapped in the face. Teddy lowered his leg, ready to spring for the door if he had to.
    “That’s right,” Teddy said, staring at him. “I’m not gonna sit here and listen to you feel sorry for yourself. The girl’s dead. Her body’s all fucked up. Her parents are probably at the morgue looking at it right now. Merry Christmas, Holmes. If you want to sit down and talk, I’ll listen. But if you’re gonna rant and rave and get all worked up, then I’m out of here.”
    Holmes was staring back at him with those ragged eyes.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Teddy Mack.”
    “You work for Barnett, not the police?”
    Teddy nodded.
    Holmes took it in, then seemed to relax some and sat down. Teddy thought about what he’d just done and couldn’t believe it. Scared shitless, he cleared his throat and moved on.
    “Tell me what you remember,” he said.
    “I want a trial. Even dogs get their day in court. Doesn’t matter what they’ve done. If you’re a person, you get a trial and go to court.”
    “Tell me what you remember.”
    “I can’t remember anything,” Holmes shouted in frustration.
    Teddy looked through the glass and saw the guards staring at them, then turn away.
    “I must’ve blacked out,” Holmes said. “I know I was there. I’m not saying I wasn’t because I woke up and saw the blood. It was all over the place. All over me and my clothes. It was like I was sleepwalking or something. I remember running to my truck. Next thing I know I’m in my own house, and I don’t even know how I got there.”
    Holmes covered his face with his hands again and started weeping.
    “What about Darlene Lewis? Did you know her very well?”
    Holmes nodded behind his hands.
    “How well did you know her?”
    “I don’t want to get her into any trouble. She’s just a girl.”
    “Not anymore, Holmes. Now tell me how you knew her.”
    Holmes peeked through his fingers again. “She used to tease me,” he said.
    Teddy shuddered, getting his first glimpse at a possible motive. “How did she tease you?”
    “Sometimes it really got to me,” Holmes whispered. “In the summer when she was out at the pool with her friends, she’d make fun of me. I could hear them whispering and laughing at me. But when Darlene was alone, she treated me different.”
    “How did she treat you different?”
    “She used to let me look at her.”
    Teddy sat up, trying not to show any emotion. “What do you mean look at her?”
    “She’d stand there in her bathing suit and let me look at her. She’d say something like, ‘Okay, you’ve