1.
Trista Roberts doesn’t like lies. Almost as much as she doesn’t like cephalopods, for that matter. In fact she doesn’t like a lot of things. But she hates lies. So she never read the newspaper. Maybe if she did, she wouldn’t be dead right now.

Sal Roberts stared at the body of her late aunt. She wrote down notes to publish in the article. A tap on her shoulder jolted her back to the world. “Excuse me, Ms. Roberts. My name is Detective Williams, I’m in charge of the Gutter case.” Sandra looked at the detective strangely.

 “The Gutter? That case was clos..” “Afraid not, Ms. Roberts. There’s a reason we never showed you the body.” A body bag was wheeled toward them. The detective zipped it down slowly…

 Dramatically revealing the disgusting corpse, a foul, rotting stench rips through the air like a bullet. Sal plugs her nose and stares in shock at the body. There is a giant hole in her torso. Everything inside that should be there has been stripped clean. Nothing remains.

 No ribs, no stomach, no intestines. Nothing. “That’s… astounding. Who would do this to her?” Detective Williams gave her a grave look. “That’s exactly what I’m going to find out. Would you mind coming in for questioning?” He zipped the bag back up and gestured for Sal to get in the car.

The interrogation room is almost identical to what you see on TV. There’s a big mirror that’s probably a one sided, a desk with a circle popping up to chain criminals to, and two chairs on opposite sides of each other. Much like the ones you would see at a high school. The air is freezing cold as our protagonist sits down across from Detective Williams.

 “Sorry about the temp. Heater broke yesterday.” 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“Great. Let’s get started.” He looked through his notes, searching     for something.

“Where were you at the time of the murder?”He asked nonchalantly.

Sal frowns, “Wait-do you think I’m  a suspect? I loved her!” She yells. Detective Williams looks up. “I don’t know that. I’m just following procedure, Ms. Roberts.” Sal stands up furiously. “Are you kidding me? Trista was like a mother to me! She was more than my real parents would ever be!” Sal grabs her bag and leaves briskly, leaving the detective alone in the interrogation room.