Page 10 of Can You Take It?

“He had dark hair, kind of messy. And his eyes... they were cold, almost black. And there was a scar, here,” she points to her cheek, indicating the spot.

As Izel speaks, the artist’s pencil moves swiftly across the paper, bringing the description to life. We sit there in silence, watching the face of the guy Izel saw near the crime scene take shape.

“His nose was a bit crooked, like it had been broken before. And his jaw... it was strong, but there was something off about his smile.”

After the sketch artist wraps up, I turn to Izel. “Listen, we’ll need you to wait in the waiting room for a bit. We’re going to discuss some things in the office, and then we’ll be back to talk to you.”

“Sure.”

“You want something to eat? A sandwich, maybe?”

Izel shakes her head. “No, I’m not hungry, thanks.”

I grab a can of soda from the vending machine, thinking she might need something to sip on, and hand it to her.

“Well, here’s a soda at least. It’s going to be a while before we’re done here.”

She takes the can with a faint nod and I head into my office, closing the door behind me. I feel as though I'm leaving her in aroom full of unanswered questions, but I know it’s for the best right now.

Emily walks in a few minutes later. She gets straight to the point. “What’s the deal with Izel, Rick? Her reaction at the crime scene was... nonchalant, to say the least.”

I lean back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I noticed that too. It’s strange. When she saw the victim, there wasn’t a trace of grief or shock, more like she’d stumbled upon a scene in a movie.”

Emily folds her arms. “You think she might be involved?”

“I don’t know. It could be shock but something about her doesn’t add up. She barely reacted to seeing her roommate dead. I’d expect more emotion from a friend. Find out more about Izel, her background, her connections. There’s something she’s not telling us, and I want to know what it is.”

We’re deep into our discussion about Izel when Associate Deputy Director Robert Wilson barges into my office like a raging bull. He slams the door shut and fixes his seething gaze on me.

“Reynolds,” he greets.

I exchange a look with Emily, who gives me a subtle nod. Wilson is fired up, now I’ve seen him mad, but this is a whole new level of pissed.

“Wilson, we’re doing everything we can. It’s a complicated case, and we’re still figuring out what the hell happened.”

Wilson’s face reddens even more, and I can almost see the steam coming out of his ears. “Complicated? We've got a dead body, a crime scene, and a roommate who doesn’t seem to give a damn. You need to speed this shit up.”

“We’re making progress. We’re looking into Izel’s background and working to figure out why she acted so weird at the crime scene. It’s not as simple as it looks.”

Emily chimes in, attempting to placate our infuriated boss. “We’re working around the clock. Give us a little more time, and we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Wilson doesn’t look convinced. He’s practically seething at this point. “You better. The Director wants results, not excuses.”

“We’re on it, Wilson.”

“The director’s breathing down my neck, and we’re under scrutiny from all directions,” Wilson grumbles, his face contorted with anger. “This case needs to be solved asap. I’ve got the higher-ups on my ass, and it’s not a pretty sight.”

Emily and I both nod, we get it, this is serious. But Wilson’s having none of it.

“Don’t ‘nod’ me. What the fuck is going on with the Izel Montclair situation? Why did you let her into the crime scene? She’s a suspect, right?”

“We’re not sure, sir. Her reaction, it’s off. She didn’t seem to give a shit when she saw her... roommate dead,” Emily says.

Wilson’s eyes narrow, and he leans in, his breath hot and agitated. “Is she a suspect or not?”

“We’re keeping our options open,” I reply.

Wilson slams his fist on the table, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “Options? We don’t have the luxury of options right now.”

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