Rule #4: When burying bodies be careful not to leave anything that traces the death back to you. That is what they call 'evidence' in murder trials.

Chloe's POV

"Derek, are we going to be charged with her murder?" I asked.

"I don't know," Derek retorted, clearly annoyed, "can you stop asking questions already?"

I had been asking questions since we had gotten in the police car ten minutes ago, so I was sure that by now Derek wanted to strangle me. I think he was refraining from doing so or threatening to do so because we were in the back of a police car and they take death threats very seriously, either that or the fact that our hands were handcuffed behind our backs.

I looked at his face. The cuffs, it's definitely the cuffs . . . though he could break free, but that might scream 'werewolf' or another case of 'teen on steroids'. Of course, a cop's mind wouldn't go directly to 'werewolf'. So, here come the drug charges too,

"Will they find out who I am?" I asked.

"Possibly, but we don't need to do anything they tell us to unless we're going to be charged with anything." Derek said.

"In the movies they always take a thumb print as soon as you go in." I said.

"In the movies the criminal also runs away from the cops and gets caught after over ten minutes of a stupid car chase or five minutes of running." Derek said.

"Okay. Okay. So what do we do?" I asked.

"Pray that she wasn't murdered or we will have one hell of a time avoiding charges." Derek said.

"She doesn't have blood on her. That's a good sign."

"There are ways to kill people without causing them to bleed." Derek said.

"In the movies - " I cut myself short noticing Derek's death glare.

The doors on my side opened and I was pulled out by a police officer, Derek pulled out by two, it was clear that they thought he was the threat.

We were kindly - and I say that sarcastically - taken into the police building.

I know that this sounds like the last thing I should be worrying about, but I really hoped that they wouldn't make us wear those really bright orange jumpsuits.

After Derek and I were checked to make sure we didn't have any weapons or hidden metal on us we were taken to a small room; it looked like a standard movie interrogation room, minus the lamp to shine in our faces.

The floors were gray, the walls were gray, the desk was gray, and the three chairs in the room were, wait for it…gray. Shocked? I wonder why.

I wanted to ask why it was so gray, but thought better of it because I was sure that I was going to get us in more trouble if I didn't learn to be more silent under the line of fire. Emotional line of fire. They wouldn't pull guns on us would they? I was sure that I wouldn't fair well in a game of Russian roulette with a bunch of cops.

Derek and I sat in two of the three chairs that were provided, the other chair was occupied by a man. He had dark brown hair with a few stray white hairs, eyes the colour of chocolate, and a light tan. He appeared to be somewhere between forty and fifty.

He just stared at us and I wondered if that served some purpose. Was the staring just some way to scare us into confessing something? Because if it was then there would have to be some type of problem with the system there.

No suit, so not a lawyer. No police uniform, so not a police officer. Detective? Maybe. My deduction skills weren't very helpful when it came to the legal food chain.

Derek and the guy were having something that could only be described as a modernized western showdown.

Derek won. Yet another shocker.

The guy breathed out and said, "I am going to ask the obvious. Why were the two of you attempting to carry a dead body?"

Crap. I was an idiot. I knew that someone was going to ask why we were seen with a dead body and I didn't even have the sense to come up with a decent lie? Heck, it didn't even need to be decent.

My mouth worked of its own accord, "I had found her body behind the motel and I was terrified, so my friend and I decided to move the body far enough away so that nobody else would stumble upon her by accident and then we would call the police to report her death."

I was happy that I got the lie out without stuttering, unfortunately, that happiness didn't last very long.

"If you just 'found her' why would there be black hair in her hands, as if it had been pulled out in a struggle?" The man asked.

Damn. When I was releasing the woman's spirit she had gotten a hold of me a few times. I hadn't thought anything of it because they always come to me, but now that carelessness was a really horrible thing.

"It is possible that when moving the woman's body she had briefly had her hands in my hair or my friend's." Derek said.

"So...you're carrying a body and you don't even notice where her hands go? I would think that would be all you would be able to notice. And why even carry the body? I doubt it's so someone wouldn't stumble upon it. I think it was to get rid of it. You were headed in the direction of a forest."

"None of that is enough to charge us. You have to be sure the she was even murdered before you can charge us or even hold us here." Derek said.

"The fact that you refuse to be identified is enough reason." The man said.

"When will they be doing the autopsy?" Derek asked.

"That's classified."

"I'd just like to know how long we have to be here." Derek said.

"If you told us your name and where you live you wouldn't have to be." The man said.

"We'll wait." Derek said.

Derek and the man continued to talk about the situation, Derek trying to convince the man we were teenagers not killers, the man trying to convince Derek to tell him our names and the truth, the man going so far as to tell me not to be afraid of Derek hurting me. Derek got pretty pissed at that, but didn't try to hurt the guy, which was the goal.

We were then taken to two separate solitary confinement cells and told that that was where we would be staying until they were going to press charges or until we were going to be cleared as suspects.

Two days later...

I was going to go insane. For the past two days I haven't had anyone to talk to. I've tried calling for Liz, but she hasn't shown up. I wanted to know what was going on, but instead I knew nothing.

I was sitting in my cell, dressed in awful gray prison clothes, hadn't spoken to Derek since we had been separated, and there was not a damn thing I could do about it.

The door opened and I got up as fast as I could, hoping it wasn't the guy bringing me food and that I was getting out of here.

"You can leave now." The officer said.

BEST. FOUR. WORDS. EVER.

I cracked a small smile and met Derek at the front desk, where we were given back everything that we had come in with.

I changed my clothes in the bathroom and as Derek and I walked out I asked, "Why did they let us go?"

"She died because of complications from advanced lung cancer." Derek said.

It was sad for her, but meant that Derek and I weren't going to prison. So I couldn't help but be a little glad.

I was going to hell indeed.

And Agony-Fairy's stunning conclusion! We still don't own Darkest Powers. And I still need to read The Reckoning!

~DI4MGZ~