Page 76 of Sins of the Flesh
"We're not accusing you of anything, Father Nichols," Deputy Parish says, his tone gentler than before."We're just trying to get to the bottom of what happened to Mr.Abbot."
I nod numbly, feeling sick to my stomach.The room seems to be closing in on me, the fluorescent lights suddenly too bright."Is there anything else you need from me?"I ask weakly.
"Not at the moment," Sheriff Caldwell says, standing up.
As I sit in the uncomfortable chair in the waiting room staring at my hands.I sense someone sit next to me.“Caleb what are you doing here?”Charlotte whispers.I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest.Charlotte's voice, low and dark, sends a chill down my spine.I turn to face her, trying to keep my expression neutral.
"Mayor Hendersen," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper."This isn't the time or place for…"
"Caleb, I warned you about staying away from him, we agreed."
I clench my fists, anger bubbling up inside me."I’m not exactly with him am I."I hiss, careful to keep my voice down.Charlotte purses her lips and I sigh."I just want to know he’s okay then I’ll leave.”
Charlotte's gives me a pointed disapproving look.“We’ll see.”She says, her words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken threats.I feel my blood run cold, she can't do this, he's sick he...I shake my head to erase the thought, I can't even consider that.I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, Sheriff Caldwell approaches us flanked by deputy Parrish and two Wichita police officers.
"Father Nichols," he says, his face grim."We need you to come with us."I stand on shaky legs, my mind reeling.I catch a glimpse of Charlotte raising her eyebrows as if to say I told you so.I follow the Sheriff down the sterile hospital corridor.We enter a small room, and my heart sinks when I see two more officers waiting inside.
"Father Caleb Nichols," Sheriff Caldwell begins, his voice formal and detached."You're under arrest on suspicion of poisoning Cole Abbot."The words hit me like a physical blow.I stumble backwards, my vision blurring.
"Poison?H-He was poisoned?"I stammer, my voice cracking.The officers are stoic and silent."I would never hurt Cole.You have to believe me!"
But the Officers' faces remain impassive as they read me my rights.The room spins around me as cold metal handcuffs click into place around my wrists.This has to be a nightmare.Any moment now I'll wake up in my bed, safe and far from this horror.
But the nightmare is alive and in living color, Cole has been poisoned and they think I did it.
Forty-Two
Caleb
Killer - Phoebe Bridgers
“I
already told you, I don’t know how antifreeze got into the water bottle.”I tell the Officer for what feels like the fiftieth time.They have had me in this interrogation room for fourteen hours, going in shifts.With one playing good cop and another playing bad cop.Threats, offers of meals and back to threats, it’s exhausting.
“When they brought Mr.Abbot in, the tests showed he had anit-freeze poisoning.It's pretty clear someone has been at it for at least a week and you’re the closest person to him.If you confess they may go easy on you.”This was good cop, one of two at least.I rake my fingers through my hair, sigh and just stare at the officer.At this point they only want what they think is true, that I poisoned Cole.
I would sooner cut my own throat before I ever hurt him like this.I am the one who called the fucking ambulance, if I wanted to hurt him why would I do that!?But it all falls on deaf ears and after so long I’ve just given up.All I want to know is if he is okay but of course they won't tell me that either.
"I think we're done for now," the officer finally says, closing his notepad with a snap.
I barely register the words through my exhaustion.My eyes burn from lack of sleep, and my mouth tastes like stale coffee.They lead me down a corridor of harsh fluorescent lights to a holding cell.The cell is cold concrete and metal, smelling of industrial disinfectant.The bed, if you can call it that, is a metal slab with a thin mattress that might as well be made of plywood, over it.A steel toilet sits in the back corner mocking me as the metal door clicks and then snicks behind me.
I sink onto the bed, my head in my hands.Cole.God, Cole.Is he even alive?The thought that he might be dying while I sit here accused of trying to kill him is almost more than I can bear.I lay down as exhaustion pulls me under before I can even take off my shoes.
I jolt awake as the metal bars clang.The officer smirks at me, his nightstick held in place over the bars, “Morning Mr.Nichols, sleep well?”The officer laughs as he walks away.My body aches in places I didn't know could ache as I attempt to stretch my limbs.I stand up and use the small toilet then turn on the water in the small metal sink that is operated on a push button.The water comes out ice cold and stings like hot glass.
I look into the reflective metal plate bolted into the wall above the sink at my distorted reflection.I don't know how long I slept but I don't feel like I slept at all with nightmares flowing in and out of my vision.I sit back down on the bed and stare at my hands.“This is what happens when you’re a sinner boy.Useless disgrace.”My Fathers voice creeps into my head and part of me wonders if maybe he's right, I lay back down facing the wall until his damning words lull me back to nightmares.
The next two days blur together in a haze of interrogations, fitful sleep, and inedible meals that I force down only because my body demands sustenance.The food is a congealed mass of unidentifiable substances that taste like cardboard soaked in salt water.I eat mechanically, not tasting, just fueling a body that feels increasingly foreign to me.
Each time the cell door opens, I hope for news about Cole, but it's always just another officer with the same questions, the same accusations.My prayers feel hollow in this place, bouncing off concrete walls and steel bars, never quite reaching heaven.
On the third day, the door opens, and Sheriff Caldwell himself stands there, his expression unreadable.
"You're being released, Father Nichols, someone posted bail."He says without preamble.
I blink, certain I've misheard."What?Who?"
