Chapter 49: booked and processed

Detective Singer led Bobby Lyle through the station, his grip firm on the back of Lyle’s cuffs. The entire precinct was buzzing, officers stopping to glance at the man who had taken a child. Some sneered, others muttered curses under their breath, but Singer didn’t stop. He had one goal: get this bastard to talk.

He shoved open the door to Interview Room 1 and forced Lyle into the metal chair before securing his cuffs to the table. The room was dimly lit, the single overhead bulb casting harsh shadows across Lyle’s face. The man looked disheveled, his wounded leg still bleeding through the hastily applied bandage from the paramedics. He winced but didn’t complain.

Singer pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down, leveling Lyle with a cold, piercing stare. He let the silence hang between them, the weight of it pressing down like an iron fist.

Lyle exhaled sharply. “Ain’t no lawyer?”

Singer scoffed. “You’ll get one when I’m done.” He leaned forward, placing both hands on the table. “Right now, you’re going to answer my questions.”

Lyle smirked despite the pain. “And if I don’t?”

Singer’s jaw tightened. He pulled out a folder and slapped it onto the table, flipping it open to reveal crime scene photos from past cases. “This isn’t your first rodeo, Lyle. We know you’ve been at this for a while. But this time? You screwed up. You left witnesses, and we got you dead to rights.”

Lyle’s smirk faltered just slightly.

Singer continued, his voice low and controlled. “We found your old employment records, termination papers, and your connection to that warehouse. And let’s not forget the biggest piece of evidence—your own damn class ring, imprinted on that kid’s face.”

Lyle shifted in his seat, his hands flexing against the cuffs. “Doesn’t mean I was gonna hurt the kid.”

Singer slammed a fist against the table, making Lyle jump. “You kidnapped him! You beat another kid unconscious! And if it weren’t for Miss Harper, God only knows what would’ve happened next.” He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “So here’s the deal. You start talking, maybe the DA goes easy on you. You keep playing tough? I’ll make sure you rot in a cell for the rest of your life.”

Lyle chuckled dryly. “I’m already screwed either way, huh?”

Singer sat back, crossing his arms. “That depends. Who are you working with?”

Lyle’s smile froze. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, just for a second, but Singer caught it. He leaned in again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re not smart enough to pull something like this alone. So, who else is involved?”

Lyle clenched his jaw, looking away. “I want my lawyer.”

Singer exhaled sharply and stood up. “Fine. But trust me, Lyle—this ain’t over. Not by a long shot.”

Four hours passed. It was now 2 AM when the heavy door to the interview room creaked open. A tall, sharp-dressed man in a dark suit strode in, briefcase in hand, his expression unreadable. Lyle sat up a little straighter, relief flickering across his face.

The lawyer set his briefcase on the table and clicked it open, ignoring Singer as he pulled out a legal pad. “My client won’t be answering any more questions, Detective.”

Singer crossed his arms and exhaled through his nose. “Figures.”

The lawyer adjusted his glasses. “Unless you have formal charges beyond speculation, we’ll be arranging for bail—”

“Bail?” Singer scoffed, cutting him off. “Your client kidnapped a child. There is no bail.”

The lawyer didn’t blink. “We’ll see what a judge has to say about that.”

Singer leaned in slightly. "I'm going to make sure your client never sees the outside of a cell again. He’s a danger to kids, and I won’t let him walk free."

The lawyer gave a tight-lipped smile. "We’ll see about that. See you in court, Detective."

Singer shook his head, glancing at Lyle, who was looking way too smug for someone in his position. He turned to the officer outside the room. “Get him processed. Maximum security.”

As Lyle was pulled to his feet, Singer leaned in close, lowering his voice. “This isn’t over. You’re hiding something, and I will find out what.”

Lyle’s lawyer shot him a sharp look, warning him to stay silent. But the flicker of unease in Lyle’s eyes told Singer all he needed to know.

As he walked out of the room, his mind was already racing ahead. There was more to this case, and he wasn’t stopping until he uncovered every last piece of it.

Officer Martinez took Lyle into maximum security solitary confinement, uncuffing him and shoving him into the cell. He slammed the door shut and locked it with a smirk. "Enjoy the alone time, fucker."