Academy Murders: Pulcher

The prison allowed for two hours of recreational time. Kim seized upon that allotted space. She first exercised. Then showered and watched the news. Channel 30 was not shown in Virginia but she remembered that she could use the Internet to bring about the footage she craved.

“”Eleven minutes, Jergensen!”

Kim made a wave and then returned to the keys. She tapped in the address for the news station in Delaware where I know she would have the most leverage.

“Good morning….” she fast forwarded it.

“...A case where a young ride-along and then Detective Kim Jergensen helped to crack a case plaguing Wilmington and the underground hip hop scene.”

Pictures of Yaquisha and Kim appeared on the screen. Kim’s face grew sullen and her focus intensified. When she knew she only had three minutes she skipped to the end.

Pulcher spoke straight into the lens. “...And Jergensen is currently being held in the Virginia Prison for Women. We'll have more details on the evening news. That’s it for us now, I’m Pulcher. And I’m. enjoy your day.”

Kim walked back to her cell with the slightest hint of a smile and the brightest eyes that glowed like embers. The sound of her cell bars locking used to give her dread. Now, she had a renewed purpose. Confirmation of her story finally landed in her lap. She just had to get her lawyer to understand that she is being supported. That people are listening, watching, growing with her. They don’t want her to sit and rot in some cell for the rest of her days. With all of her knowledge of policing and the legal system, She would be remiss if she didn’t address the fact that the people back in Delaware are covering the story. Her story.

“I know,” said Kim’s lawyer. “What do you live––point taken. Just look, though. Just because good ol’ D-ware is rooting for you, doesn’t mean the country and the rest of the world share the same sentiment.”

“Okay.”

“Yes, ‘okay.’ If you want to get out of all this, it’s going to take a lot more than the support from the second smallest state to curry favor with the jury. We’ve got two blacks, a guy and a woman, two Hispanic, two Guatemalan women and a Puerto Rican man, three white women, and three white men. You should be fine. There’s an ex-cop somewhere in there and two law school dropouts. I have a feeling we’re going to have to win them over easily. There’s going to be a chance where you, myself, we’re going to have to have guns ablazing on this case.”

“Okay.”

“You were so much more vocal in the past. What do they have you on? Are you taking happy pills or something?”

“You know my file.”

“That’s right! I forgot. Forgive me.”

“Do you think we can whip the trial and I won’t lose blood in this game?”

“If becoming an FBI agent is your goal, even if you’re cleared of the charges, that window has been shut. I mean, you can always crawl back to Delaware and be a P.I. and even that requires a license that may not be granted to an ex-double murder suspect.

But she didn’t think of all that. She thought of Pulcher’s blue-green dress. When it came time for the morning meal, she ate lightly and sent the pan skidding across the floor as if sparks were supposed to come from underneath. By writing a letter responding to Yawquisha, Kim sensed a jolt in her confidence. With every stroke of the pen, she felt empowered to show her story.