Chapter 28: The Confession

"I don't know anything about a confession letter. I don't have anything to confess to," JJ smirked.

He had been at the station for two hours and the questions the detective was throwing at him had not elicited a different response.

Before picking him up, the captain suggested Detective Tremount be the one to approach JJ's home. The thought process was that his parents might feel less threatened by a female law enforcement officer. Detective McCree waited by the car while Tremount went to the door.

A meek woman, who looked to be in her early fifty's, answered the door. She was dressed in a yellow robe which partially covered her flowered nightgown. Her appearance indicated the visit clearly interrupted her sleep.

"Can I help you?" her broken voice uttered.

"Yes mam. Hello, I am Detective Tremount of the MLPD." The detective held up her badge while she spoke.

"I am looking for Johnathan Williams. Is he home? May I speak with him?" Tremount was careful not to sound overly eager. It was best to make this women, who she assumed was JJ's mother, feel comfortable with her request.

Mrs. Williams open the door without question. Detective Tremount turned and looked over her shoulder at McCree. He was leaning against the car with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Tremount raised her eyebrows and McCree shrugged his shoulders. Detective Tremount disappeared into the house and returned a few minutes later with the sleepy-eyed teen.

JJ remained silent the entire ride to the station. He didn't ask why he was being brought in, not a single word about what the detectives wanted. McCree glanced in the rearview mirror a few times to check on JJ. His eyes were closed, and his head was resting against the window. When they got to the station, McCree pulled into a spot and Tremount got out to open the door to get JJ. When she released the handle, he nearly fell out onto the pavement.

"Let's go Sleeping Beauty," Detective Tremount mocked as she took JJ by the arm and guided him into the precinct.

McCree placed JJ in an interview room used for questioning suspects. The set up was simple. A metal table occupied the center, with four chairs tucked directly underneath. A pitcher of water and a stack of paper cups were set on a smaller table under a one-way glass window.

Detective McCree initiated the interrogation while Detective Tremount and Captain Sangine observed through the privacy window. McCree began with simple questions in attempt to keep JJ at ease. But, after an hour of not getting what he needed, McCree changed his tone and pressed JJ.

"So, you're telling me that you didn't mail in a letter stating that you know where we can locate Stacey Orlando? Are you sure about that?" The detective wasn't letting up on JJ.

"For the hundredth time, I don't know anything about a letter."

"Let's go over again where you were on the night of Friday, March 1st," McCree insisted.

"I told you. With my girlfriend Debbie LaCata. I was with her all night. I told you this already. Ask her."

JJ was sure that Debbie would continue to confirm his alibi. He had been less involved with her the last few weeks, but he still felt confident that she would come through for him. Once he was out of there, he would need to make a point to pay more attention to her.

Detective McCree pursed his lips and drummed his hands on the table.

"Okay JJ. Don't say I didn't give you the opportunity to tell your side," McCree said sympathetically.

"My side? What do you mean, my side?" JJ sat up tall in the chair as if he were being pulled by the top of his head.

"What if I told you that we have Debbie in another room. What if I told you that she said you made her give you an alibi. And that you were never with her?"

"What? That bitch is lying! I was with her!" JJ's heart was beating out of his chest. He felt a nip at his armpits where sweat began to form.

"I don't know JJ. She seems pretty convincing," McCree said assuredly.

"Okay, look. Debbie was jealous of Stacey. She is changing her story because she thought I was trying to get with Stacey," JJ insisted.

"Oh, I see. She's attempting to get back at you. Is that it? Jesus. Damn girls."

McCree wanted JJ to feel like he was on his side. And as a man, that he understood JJ's situation. If he made JJ think he was trying to help him, then JJ might dig himself into an impossible hole to climb out of.

"Exactly. She wants to get me in trouble," JJ confirmed.

"Okay, I understand now. But be honest, you were trying to get with Stacey, right? You can level with me. I know how it is with girls, trust me. I am going through a divorce right now. It turns out, it's a damn blessing in disguise." McCree shook his head and then crossed his arms across his chest.

"Okay, yeah. I convinced her to meet me at the arcade. But we just hung out there for a little while, that's all. And I went to Debbie's right after like I said."

"And what time was that then?" McCree inquired.

Detective McCree was scribbling down notes while JJ explained.

"That was like a little after eleven. The arcade closes at eleven on the weekend."

"You are saying that you left the arcade when it closed and went directly to Debbie's?"

"Yeah. Directly to Debbie's," JJ confirmed.

McCree placed the pen down and scratched the top of his head before speaking.

"Hmmm. That's not what she is saying. So, you can see why we have a problem here?"

JJ felt the moister accumulating in his hands. He nervously ran his sweaty palms along his thighs. The lump in JJ's throat was sure to be followed by tears. He needed a diversion to avoid breaking down. JJ had a hard time making eye contact with the detective.

McCree knew he was lying. All the tells were there.

JJ wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible. He thought about tackling McCree and bolting out the door. But he knew he would never make it far.

"Can I get a coke or something," JJ's voice was barely audible.

The detective grabbed a pitcher from the back table and poured JJ a cup of water.

"Things do not look good for you. JJ, your story has problems."

JJ sipped the water and thought of an idea. If he claimed he couldn't remember, then the detective would have to stop questioning him and he could leave.

"Okay. You're right. I am going to admit something truthfully."

JJ took a deep swallow of water and cleared his throat.

"I don't remember what happened that night." JJ managed.

Detective McCree had to fight back his snicker.

"You don't remember? What part don't you remember?"

"Okay. I did ask Stacey to meet me, but she never showed up. So, on my way home, I stopped at Howie's Corner Deli for smokes and a coke."

"And what time was this approximately?" McCree asked.

"It was about 10:00, I think. Wait, maybe it was closer to 11:00." JJ's posture was improved. His confidence was beginning to return.

"Can anyone verify seeing you at Howie's that night?" McCree was intrigued with where JJ was taking this restructured version of events.

"Yes. Yes, definitely. Howie was working. He will remember me being there. Howie can vouch for me."

JJ began to feel hopeful. He was in Howie's store routinely and hoped that he would support JJ's statement. Unfortunately, for JJ he wasn't in the deli that particular day. He was betting on Howie confusing one day for another. It was unreasonable for the detective to think that anyone could remember exactly where they were on one random night months prior.

McCree scribbled down Howie's name, business, and the time frame provided by JJ. He tore the paper from the pad, put up his hand, and waved it. Detective Tremount entered the room and took the paper from McCree without saying a word.

"Detective Tremount will be contacting Howie to see what he has to say."

JJ nodded his head.

"JJ, I am looking back over my notes here. You stated that after Stacey didn't show you stopped at Howie's before heading home. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's correct." JJ confirmed.

"I am confused. Earlier you were so sure you were at Debbie's. Did you or did you not go to Miss LaCata's house?"

McCree flipped to the page where the words were written and slid the notepad over for JJ to review.

JJ glanced at the page. His head was spinning, and he felt his temples pulsating. The ease he was previously feeling abruptly disappeared. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep everything straight. He was creating lies on the spot. JJ never anticipated Debbie leaving him out to dry like this. He was grasping onto the table when he spoke.

"After leaving the deli, I decided to take some LSD and I must have blacked out. The last thing I remember is walking over to Debbie's. I don't really remember. I said home, but I meant Debbie's. I am sorry detective, but most of the night is just a fuzzy, cloudy, blur. I didn't want to admit to the taking LSD. I was afraid I would get into trouble."

McCree continued writing and then sat back in his chair. He tapped the pen on the pad a few times and read back his notes.

"You blacked out and don't remember seeing Stacey. Did I get that right?"

"Right. I don't remember. Like I said, the drugs must have made me black out."

JJ's pulse began to slow. He needed to stick to his story of blacking out and all would be fine.

"And you didn't meet Stacey at all that night then?"

"No. She didn't show."

McCree stared at JJ for a minute before speaking.

"Okay. Sit tight JJ. I need to discuss something with my partner and then I'll be back."

JJ nodded. "Will I be able to leave soon detective?"

"Not too much longer," McCree gave JJ a reassuring smile.

The detective picked up JJ's cup and his notepad and left the room.

JJ was left alone with an officer standing post outside the door.

"What are you thinking," Captain Sangine asked McCree and Tremount.

"Honestly, Cap, I think this kid is ready to burst. He keeps adding more layers to his story on the fly. He wasn't ready for girlfriend to turn on him. I can get him there. Let's keep him sitting for another thirty. I have an idea that will push him across the finish line," McCree assured him.

When McCree returned, he found JJ with his head down on the table. McCree closed the door firmly, startling JJ.

"JJ? Do you know that fingerprints are unique? That each individual has his or her own set which specifically identifies who they are?"

JJ stared blankly at McCree.

"What if I told you that your fingerprints were identified on the note that was placed in the Orlando's mailbox. Would this surprise you? Or did you black out then too?"

JJ was paralyzed. He hadn't thought about the forged note he wrote and coerced Debbie to deliver.

JJ knew what he had to do now. He had to save himself. Redirecting the blame was his only option.

"She...she asked me to write it. Stacey did. She asked me to. I was only trying to help her," JJ insisted.

"She asked you. When would that have been?"

McCree was getting a kick out of this kid. He clearly thought McCree, actually the entire department, consisted of a bunch of bumbling idiots.

"Wait. I remember now. I did see her. But it was at school. You see, I didn't want her family to know that I knew what she was up to."

McCree leaned in, "Go on, continue."

JJ's eyes darted left and right and left and right, a clear indicator that he was searching for what to say next. McCree was going to allow JJ to dig himself in deeper and deeper.

"Umm. Umm. Yeah. I get mixed up sometimes. The drugs, they sometimes make me cloudy. Stacey told me at school she was going to run off with some guy and that I shouldn't say anything. She made me promise and I didn't want to break my word. I was only being a good friend." JJ began pulling at the sleeve of his t-shirt.

McCree huffed and shook his head. The detective was losing his patience.

JJ continued, "I wrote the note because I felt bad that her family was worried for nothing. I figured they would feel better if they heard from her. So, I wrote the note knowing she would want me to. I shouldn't have, but I wanted to help. I went to Debbie to talk about it. I wasn't sure what to do. Debbie insisted that she deliver the note. It was my idea to help the family though. It wasn't right to let them keep worrying."

"I see. So, you must have been very surprised to learn that we found her remains?"

JJ did not respond.

"You know, considering you knew she was off with some guy," McCree added.

JJ did not comment.

"It's a terrible tragedy to learn that she was found so close to home. Such a sad outcome," McCree said sympathetically.

JJ nodded, "Yeah, it's sad."

"Imagine someone attacking her and leaving her out there in the cold, all alone."

"Yeah, imagine." JJ mimicked.

JJ began shaking his right leg, unaware of the nervous rapping he was making until the detective glanced under the table.

McCree shook his head slowly back and forth.

"She met some guy, and he ended up killing her. And for what?" McCree threw his hands up.

"Poor Stacey, alone and cold lying there. I can't imagine how helpless she must have been," the detective said compassionately. And for added measure, McCree sniffed and blinked his eyes rapidly tempting a reaction from JJ.

"All alone and cold, likely freezing and helpless," McCree added.

JJ fidgeted in his seat. The detective's show of emotions had certainly taken him by surprise. The awkward silence in the room created an empty space waiting to be filled.

"At least she was covered with her jacket. That probably helped a little. Don't you think detective?" JJ offered gently.

McCree's nostrils opened wide as he inhaled.

"Yes, JJ I bet it did help, at least a little."

That was it. He had him. McCree knew if he kept JJ talking long enough he would say something to hang himself.

The specific details of how Stacey was found was never released to the press. Only the killer would have known she was found with her body covered by her coat.

McCree slid back the chair from the table and stood up. Detective Tremount entered the room and pulled JJ up out of his seat.

"Johnathan Williams, you have the right to remain silent," Tremount stated firmly.

And at 11:42 am, Jonathan J. Williams was placed under arrest for the murder of Stacey Orlando.