The interrogation room was a stark, windowless space that seemed designed to unsettle those brought within its walls. Dark blue paint covered the walls, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. A large table dominated the center of the room, flanked by four chairs. Overhead, a long fluorescent lamp cast a harsh, unforgiving light. Behind a two-way mirror, two officers stood ready to observe the proceedings.
Jeffrey was led in, still in handcuffs. Once seated at the table, an officer removed the restraints. Nick took his place across from Jeffrey, while Christian positioned himself near the entrance, a silent observer to the tense scene about to unfold.
Nick leaned forward, his voice low and controlled, but tinged with disbelief. "Jeffrey, what the hell were you thinking? Have you completely lost your mind? You're facing charges of attempted murder. Do you understand the gravity of what you've done?"
Jeffrey met Nick's gaze unflinchingly, his voice devoid of remorse. "I don't care. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I have no doubt that he's the killer."
Nick shook his head, frustration evident in his tone. "You're lucky you didn't wound or kill anyone. You realize you'll likely be removed from your position as sheriff, right?"
"I've already told you, I don't care!" Jeffrey's voice rose, his anger palpable in the small room.
Christian, sensing the need to redirect the conversation, interjected. "How did you even find Bradley Force?"
"His mother told me," Jeffrey replied curtly.
Nick's eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into his voice. "What, did you threaten her?"
Jeffrey's response was brusque, bordering on insolent. "It doesn't matter. I've said all I'm going to say. Do your job and put that bastard Bradley away."
Christian sighed heavily, his voice tinged with disappointment. "Jeffrey, Jeffrey, you should have thought about your wife Mary."
Nick reached for his mobile phone, dialing the duty officers. He requested that Bradley be brought to the interrogation room. Moments later, Bradley was led in, his hands cuffed and his gaze fixed on the floor. He swayed slightly as he walked, his demeanor unsteady. Upon seeing Bradley, Jeffrey leapt from his chair, lunging towards the younger man with murderous intent. The officers quickly intervened, forcing Jeffrey back into his seat. Bradley remained standing near the door, his posture tense and wary.
"I'll kill you!" Jeffrey roared, his face contorted with rage.
Nick's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and authoritative. "Jeffrey, if you don't calm down right this instant, I'll have you put back in handcuffs!"
Bradley's voice, when he spoke, was nasal and slurred, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Hey, get this psycho out of here! He tried to kill me!" He jabbed an accusing finger in Jeffrey's direction. Bradley's appearance was as disheveled as his speech – his black jeans were torn and dirty, his blue T-shirt looked as if it hadn't been washed in weeks. The zigzag scar on his cheek stood out starkly against his pallid skin.
"And you, you bastard, killed my daughter!" Jeffrey shot back, his voice dripping with venom.
"Jeffrey, I'm warning you for the last time," Christian interjected, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Shut up, or I'll have you removed from this room immediately."
Bradley's next words came out in a panicked rush. "I've already told you, I didn't kill your daughter. We were friends, we hung out together!"
