First Impressions

The car comes to a stop in front of the estate gate.

“Would you like me to drop you off inside?”

“I can probably walk from here. Thank you.”

The large gates open themselves, automatically controlled by the security man. He pokes his head from inside. “Welcome ma’am, we’ve been worried we didn’t hear anything from you since. Please generous sir, please bring her inside, its still a long way inside from here.”

Mandall glances inside through the open gates, and true to the security’s words, he actually cannot see the house even standing right outside its gates. He glances at Bethany. “You wanted to walk all that way?”

She shrugs. “It is not as far as it seems.”

“Well, ill drop you off. You are still cold and I would not like for you to catch an actual cold. So, come on.” He revs up the car and drives inside.

“You don’t seem exactly fazed by the wealth you see here?”

“Its Worth after all. What was I to expect?”

“No. its not just that. Its almost like you have been in it enough to not seem intimidated by the vast amount of it. Others will still find something to gawk at…”

“Well, I won’t say I am poor either.” He replies vaguely, leaving Bethany thinking of how mysterious he is, and now that they are actually talking more than she is crazy, she is more curious about him.

So, when Mandall finally stops the car out front—

“Would you like to come in? I can get your clothes quickly dried and get you a cup of coffee…”

“Don’t…”

“Please, don’t say no. I’ll feel guilty if you decline. I made your car wet but I can make you dry…” She pauses and facepalms. “Oh my goodness. That came out so wrong.”

Mandall laughs. “To save you from further embarrassment, ill stay only until my clothes are dry, deal?”

“That’s much better.”

Bethany leads him into the house, gingerly avoiding he living room and taking another room into another living room where entertains him.

“Could you undress?”

“So many things sound so wrong under good circumstances.” He laughs as she turns slight red, embarrassed. “Where can I change?”

Bethany bites her lower lips, knowing that now that she acted on impulse, she has to see it through to the end. Come to think of it, she does not even know his name.

“Come with me, I know the perfect place to remove these ones and change into some other comfortable clothes.” She leads him up the stairs and into a sparsely used but fully furnished room. “You can change in here. There are some clothes in the closet, you can change into any of the clothes in there for now, while I brew you a cup of coffee.”

“Id love that very much, thank you.”

“Oh, I’ll wait outside so I can hand the clothes to a maid who’ll clean it up. Ill be right out here, so just call me when you are ready to hand it over.”

“Hm.” Closing the door behind her, Mandall turns around and fully examines the room, noticing the smallest details like the love of art of whoever owned the room from the exquisite choice of artworks handing down in every corner of the room.

His eyes come to a stop on a particular one, standing right at the top of the bed. An artwork filled with a mass of colors and shapes, blending colors, primary and secondary, combining into new colors and brightening the whole board of paint.

“Number 17A…” He whispers, his voice trailing off. He chuckles, thinking of what Bethany would think, to see him finally ogling at something. He fishes out his phone from his chest pocket and searches online for its current market price— He whistles.

“A whooping two hundred million dollars? Whoever owns that has some very good eye for art.”

Reaching into the closet, he removes a long shirt and a three quartered length trouser and puts it on. It’s a bit bigger but he holds it in place with the elastic rope attached to it. He pulls off the wet top part and drops it, they pool around his feet. Stepping out of it, he steps right onto the metal hoop of his belt and— ”Ouch!”

The door flings open and Bethany rushes in. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, I just stepped on my belt. Sorry for the false alarm.”

“Whew.” She sighs in relief, but immediately, her breath catches in her throat. His upper body is completely naked and the trouser hangs a bit low down his waistline, and it’s been quite a while since Bethany has glimpsed the body of a man, not even one as hot as this god sculptured man is.

Flustered, she turns around.

Mandall picks up the clothes from the floor, trying to be all macho and unbothered about the situation, he taps her shoulder from behind.

“Y…Yes?” She clears her throat to speak clearer.

“These are the clothes. You can have them.”

Turning around awkwardly and trying to avoid his eyes and chest at the same time, she closes her hands around the clothes. “I’ll get them washed and prepared downstairs. Come join me, ill have the coffee ready by then.”

*

Back at the police station, the rain has subsided and a black car comes to a stop right in front of the building.

A man emerges from it and grabs a suitcase before heading in, the complete aura of a lawyer around him.

He walks straight to Asha’s office, and upon seeing him, she rises up from her chair.

“Mr. Trelawney, nice to see you finally arrive.”

“The feeling is not entirely mutual. Where is my client?”

“He’s fine. I did not touch a hair on his head.”

“You know what I am talking about, don’t try to be funny with me.”

“I am not trying to be funny though. He’s a stubborn suspect.”

“Oh yes. He’s a suspect.”

“You can’t keep him here for more than forty eight hours total, or two days without evidence of him being truly involved in the case. Do you have any pointers to why you would try to make my client a suspect?”

“I am not trying to make him a suspect. He is a suspect. I got permission to keep him in detainment until he is completely rid of doubt, or, until he is charged to court for the case.”

“What?” He flares up immediately. “You can’t do that.”

“Sorry, but I did already. That’s one importance of being punctual. If you came just an hour earlier like I told you to, you could have stopped the order.”

Trelawney seethes for a minute. “You have done your worst, now I’ll do my best.”

Asha smirks. “Fine. Do your best, I had fun doing the worst anyway. Its fun playing good cop bad cop with some nastily connected people.” She says unapologetically and takes her seat, having him stare down at her.

“Fine then. We are both going to see where this case lands us.” Asha rolls her eyes. “Can I meet my client now?”

“Sure. He’s down the hall, interrogation room four.”

Without as much as a courtesy bow, he turns on his heels and leaves.

When he goes out of sight, she follows after and enters into the double mirrored room so she can see what is going on in there.

He takes a seat opposite Drake who looks up at him with slightly frightened eyes.                        

“Am I getting out of here?”

“Disappointingly, that immensely annoying police officer already requested detainment permission and got it.”

Asha scoffs, somewhat pleased to be called ‘immensely annoying’.

“WHAT?! How am I going to leave here now?”

“Do not worry, I know some people who can get you out of here. If not for you, I am doing this to put that officer in her place, she challenged me, and I absolutely despise that. I’ll get you out of here before today ends.”

Asha nods, still listening in on their conversation.

“I’ll leave now. Just wait a bit for me.” With the note of finality, Trelawney exits the room.

Asha gives him a few minutes of head start before leaving the room, to enter the one where Drake is detained.

“So, you are that trusting of your lawyer? Huh?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“You know, I can revert the detention permission myself. You can just tell me one thing.”

Drake’s head turns her way. ”What again?”

“It’s the same question I asked before. If, let’s say, you did not kill Paul, or conspire to do it at all, where were you on the night he was killed and for a few days after the murder, before you returned home two days later?”

“I said I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Fine then, I will make sure you do not leave this…”

Her phone vibrates in her pocket. Suspecting nothing, she brings it out, and it is an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Release Mr. Anderson immediately.”

“What? Who the fuck is this?”

“This fucker is your boss, the Chief Police Officer here. Do you want to lose your job, Rawlings?”