Blood and Motive

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my name is Jill Baker."

I adjust my blazer as I stand up and start walking towards the jury box.

"And I am the lawyer for the accused," I look back and point to my client sitting at the right side of the courtroom.

He looks at me with a sorrowful stare, and I give him a reassuring nod as I begin my opening statement.

"The case before us is an unsettling and disturbing one and it is a tragic reminder that a night of intimacy can sometimes turn into something scary. My client has been accused of murdering Cassidy Jones. A woman whose future was so bright but was cut short due to her murder. Someone killed her but it wasn't my client."

"But as we begin, I'd like to urge each and everyone of you, the jurors, to dismiss anything you've heard in the media or anything you'll hear about this case, or my client during this trial. This trial is about nothing but the truth, and the truth will be revealed."

"Now, during the course of this trial I will prove beyond a reasonable doubt that my client couldn't have killed her and this is all prosecutorial bias from the prosecution." I take a step back and look at the prosecution.

"The evidence will show that my client and the victim engaged in a consensual sexual meet. But what happened after is a matter of grave concern, one we know nothing about."

"All we know is that during the early hours of the next day the victim was found dead."

"My client is on trial here, not because he is being accused of being a killer, but because of his line of work."

"The prosecution will present testimonies from forensic experts, who will detail the extensive blood evidence found in the hotel room and the DNA evidence that links the defendant, my client to the crime scene. We will also hear from witnesses who will testify to seeing my client leave the hotel while the victim was still alive."

"As the prosecution's case is revealed, I plead with you to consider the evidence carefully, and also keep in mind the the defendant's occupation does not define his guilt or innocence, but what defines his guilt is the evidence, and it is your job as the jurors to ...

As I continue to give my opening statement, the door of the courtroom bursts open and my assistant Sarah hurries in, my attention is drawn to her as she signals for me to come over to her.

"Your honour, please I'd like to verify a few things with my colleague" I ask the judge as I walk over to my assistant to hear what she has to say.

And what she tells me next is news that will change the trajectory of this whole case, flipping it on it's head.

A case that I didn't know would cost me my career and my life at the same time.

"Your honour, the victim's body has been found."

I announce and a wave of shock washes over the crowd.

I reach out to her, cupping her face gently as I look into her green eyes.

My thumb caressing her cheekbone, her eyes flickered shut briefly as she leaned into my touch.

"Look at me." I said softly, my voice raspy.

She opened her eyes and locked them onto mine, I reached for her, pulling her towards me.

Our mouths collided, the kiss hungry and desperate like it always is.

Her hands flew to my face, her fingers threading into my hair.

I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto my lap, her knees on either side as she straddles me.

Her warmth seeped through her clothes, as she grinds against my hard cock. She knows exactly what she's doing, she knows what she wants and how to get it.

I smiled against her neck before kissing my way lower, down to her decolletage. She tilted her head back, giving me more room.

I start to unbutton her blouse and her hand reaches for my belt buckle.

" Not so fast, I want to savour this moment." I said giving her a little smirk.

I kissed across her collarbone, slow and deliberate trying to enjoy every moment. When I reach the curve of her breast I feel her shiver, her body arching towards me.

With a deft touch, I pulled the lace bra down, exposing her full and pert breast, with nipples stiff and erect.

I run my hand from her neck down to her breast massaging one with my free hand and give her nipple a little flick.

I lowered my head, taking a nipple in my mouth and she gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders as I teased her with my tounge.

I sucked gently, drawing a soft moan out of her as I slid a my hand up her thigh.

"Bed now!" she whispered against my lips, her voice laced with need.

I lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I carried her to my bed, my fingers digging into the curve of her ass.

Her palms brush against the bulge in my pants and her hands find my belt buckle again and this time I dont object, her fingers quick and steady. I watch her, as she pushes my jeans down exposing my cock.

Her eyes darken and her lips part as she takes me in.

I lower her unto the mattress as I press against her, I'm at her entrance, skin to skin as her nails are digging into my back as I ground my hip into hers.

Just as I was about to thrust into her, a loud knock at the door makes me freeze, and a voice called out my name, jolting me awake.

"It was just a dream." I groan.

I got up from the bed and headed to the door to know who was banging on the door

"I'm coming," I yell. I open the door and it's two police officers.

"Manuel Salazar?" One of the police officer asks

"Yes, that's me. Any problems?"

"We'd like for you to follow us to the police station" He explained

I take a step back,

"Why do I have to go to the po....?"

Before I can complete my question, he is pinning me against the wall and handcuffing my hands behind my back. I try to free my hands from his grip but he's holding me firmly to the wall.

"Manuel Salazar, you are under arrest for the disappearance of Cassidy Salazar."

My face pales and my eyes go wide.

Cassy's missing ? She can't have disappeared. How was I being charged with her disappearance ?

I saw Cassy yesterday, and when I left her at the hotel. What did he mean she disappeared? Is this some sort of joke?

If they are coming here it means I was the last person to see her alive and they think I did some to her.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the state. Do you understand the rights I have read to you?"

I don't even say a word. Michael rushes out of the kitchen and freezes his mouth open, staring at me with wide eyes. He was as shocked as I was when I opened the door. He's asking the officer a lot of questions. The policeman says they are taking me to the police station downtown, and he should come to the station for further information.

The officer leads me to the police car and helps me get in. I can't hear anything except my heart beating in my ears.

I think of last night with Cassidy at the restaurant, she wore a red strapless dress. It was beautiful on her.

The journey to the police station is slow and painful. The sky that looked clear for a minute is now cloudy, like it's about to rain.

I get to the police station, and the officer, whose name is Paul, leads me to a room with grey-coloured walls, three chairs, and a table in the middle. It smells of stale coffee, gives off a bad vibe but I mean it's an interrogation room.

The room is brightly lit; the light is harsh, and it hurts my eyes. There's a black window, but I can't see through. I know there are people on the other end watching me.

I've watched a few episodes of Law and Order. I know how it works.

He tells me to sit down, and I do, then he handcuffs me to the table and leaves. I can't help but think about Cassidy and the fact that she's missing

Was she kidnapped after I left? Maybe I shouldn't have left her alone. Maybe if I had stayed with her or woken her up to let her know I was leaving, someone wouldn't have taken her.

I sit there looking around as a million thoughts go through my head, and after what seems like hours

The door opens, and two men enter the room with coffee and files in their hands.

"Good afternoon, Manuel,"one of the men greeted.

I don't say anything; I just look at them both, my voice lost in my throat.

"My name is Detective Nathan, and this is my partner Dan," he announces, pointing to Dan and taking a seat on one of the chairs opposite me.

"Do you know why you're here today?" Nathan asks.

"I dont know anything about Cassidy, " I answered bluntly, almost too fast.

"So you do know why you're here?" He taunts

Detective Nathan is about my height, a black man with very low-cut hair. He's quite muscular and has an intimidating stare, but I'm not scared; I have nothing to hide.

"Yes, you people think I have something to do with her disappearance, but I don't. She was at the hotel when I left her." I answer, trying to hide my frustrations.

"We would like to ask you some questions, and we'd like to record it. Is that okay?" His partner asks

I nod, and he takes out a recorder from his pocket, drops it on the table, and turns it on.

For the benefit of the tape, today's date is Saturday, 13 November 2023.

Myself, Detective Nathan, and DI Daniel are both present.

I think they are trying to do good cop, bad cop, but it's not going to work.

"Tell us about the events that took place on November 12th, 2023."

I clear my throat and ask them for a bottle of water before I start. I begin to tell them everything that happened yesterday.

The truth, because if I'm charged, I'll go to prison. How's it going to look like a Mexican murdering a rich white lady?

"So yesterday she texted me asking if we were going to meet at the usual place we always do," I started.

We always met at a restaurant, The Ritz, it was nice and sophisticated it was a little bit over prized but I didn't mind. The conversations at dinner I always looked forward to them and after dinner we'd go out maybe dancing or to a club but if we were to lazy we'd go back to our hotel.

The hotel was one of those classy hotels no one really knew about but was beautiful on the inside, quiet and everyone always stayed in their lanes, minding their own business.

Cassidy was one of my longest clients and I would say we were friends sort of,and I have known her a while,I would never hurt her on purpose.

"Which place do you guys usually meet?" Dan asked

"Before you continue,can you state your job for the record?"

"I'm a male escort." I answer

"So you're a sex worker?"

I don't answer; I just continue narrating the events of yesterday.

"So after you finished your job, what happened next?" Nathan asks

"After I finished, we fell asleep."

"You fell asleep, If you fell asleep, how did you get back to your apartment?"

"I had a class the next morning, so I woke up and left. I went to my apartment."

"How did you get to your apartment? by train, bus, cab?"

"A cab. I took a cab from the hotel to my apartment."

"Where do you live, Manuel?"

"I live in an apartment in Bushwick, Brooklyn, with my friend Michael."

"Bushwick? You must have a lot of money, isn't the rent there $3,000 for a small apartment?"

"You make all that money, fucking ladies, don't you?"

I knew he was trying to rile me up and get a reaction out of me, so when I did react, he'd shoot me in the head and say I was trying to kill him, so I did what anyone would do in my place. I kept quiet.

"Just admit it, you killed her in cold blood, took her valuables, and left."the pitch of his voice increased.

"I did no such thing. She's just missing how do you know she's dead"

"Because you killed her"

"I didn't do that; Cassidy was my client. I would never hurt my client." I reply, trying to keep calm.

"But you killed her, didn't you? You admitted it, and we can get you a deal."

Deal? I wasn't going to confess to a crime I didn't commit and throw my life for what ? Hell no!

"I would like my phone call now," I ask.

"Did you love her? Is that why you killed her because she didn't love you back?

I thug at the handcuffs. I'm starting to get uncomfortable.

"Where is Cassidy Manuel?" Nathan asked me his voice threatening

"What do you mean? I left her at the hotel and went to my apartment. I told you that already."

"I'd like a lawyer now, please."

"Where is Cassidy Manuel?" He asks again, changing the tone of his voice like he's talking to a child.

"Where is her body, Manuel?' he asks, growing impatient.Slamming his fist on the table.

"I don't know. You don't have her body, so how do you know she's dead? She might just be passed out on a bench somewhere or in a different country."

Detective Nathan slids the folder across the table to me his gaze on me sharp.

"Take a look," he said flatly, gesturing to the folder.

I hesitated. But I opened it, and the first photo struck me like a bolt of lightning.

Blood everywhere,so much blood.

The bed, the white sheets soaked in crismon, the carpet was almost black.

But there's something that makes the whole scene even more scary.

Written on the walls above the bed, with blood in capital letters was,

'THE BITCH DESERVED TO DIE'.

I've been here for two days now. I haven't been allowed a phone call, appointed a lawyer, or allowed any visitors.

Just me in a jail cell. It's quiet-too quiet. All I can hear is the air conditioner cooling.

After the detectives questioned me, an officer brought me to a cell and locked me in here ever since.

The first night here was hard. I had to sleep on the iron bench, and my back hurts.

I couldn't sleep. I could only replay my interview with the detectives and think of Cassidy.

The letters from the photo are burned into my mind. They all I can think about.

I've been questioned again, but this time, it was just Detective Dan. He was much calmer this time and asked if he could get me anything.

Dan is a lot younger than Nathan; you could tell by the way he dressed and styled his hair.

He was a white man with blue eyes and a moustache, not as tall as Nathan, but he was just as muscular.

He asked me for the truth, and I told him, but he said he couldn't help me if I didn't tell him where her body was.

A police officer comes to my cell and tells me my lawyer is here to see me, and that's when I see Carl coming in through the door, and I don't think I've ever been so happy to see him before.

"Manuel," he greets me.

"Hey Carl, when can you get me out of here? I asked.

Carl is the lawyer for the escort service I work for. I've seen him around a couple of times. He's a balding old man, probably in his early 50s. He gives me the creeps, but he's my only hope of getting out of here, so I push my feelings aside.

"I don't know, Manuel. I'm working on it," he admits.

I took a step back from the cell door, raked my hands through my hair, and took a few deep breaths.

"Try harder, Carl." I muttered

"I've been here for 3 days now." I yell

"Okay, hang in there; I'll see what I can do, " he gives me a small smile and leaves.

A few hours later, he's back with a police officer who opens the gate and tells me I'm free to go for now.

Carl tells me I've been released on bail due to insufficient evidence and the fact they arrested me without a warrant, so I'm free to go for now.

He tells me to get a real good lawyer because he's not a criminal lawyer. He got me out as a favour to my boss.

We leave the police station, and as soon as we open the door, the media start taking pictures, the cameras start flashing, and the reporters are asking so many questions.

Carl whispers for me to keep my head down and not say a word as we hurry down the steps and into his car, fleeing from the media.

Carl drops me a few blocks away from my apartment and tells me to go see Nick, my boss, when I have a chance and wishes me good luck before he drives off.

What a dick, but at least he got me out of jail.

I can't help but think about the picture of the hotel room the detective showed me.

There was blood everywhere on the side; Cassidy was lying down when I left. Blood splattered on the wall, the mattress soaked with blood, and blood pooled on the floor beside the mattress.

The pictures are horrifying, like the pictures from a murder documentary.

It's horrible that someone would kill another person in such cold blood. What about Cassie's husband? I don't know if she had any kids. She never really talked about her family.

Has he been given the news?

I need to figure out what I'm going to do, my next move, and which lawyer I'm going to hire. I also need to find out what happened to Cassidy after I left her.

So many things rush through my mind on the walk home. Just a few days ago, I was a male sex worker with a happy life, and now I'm being charged with murder.

What a twist of fate!

I take the steps one at a time until I'm at the door. I fish the spare key from under the plant pot and enter the apartment.

I look at myself in the mirror; my black hair looks like a bird's nest, and the bag under my eyes looks so bad, as does the stumble on my face from the past few days.

I take a long shower to wash away the stress of the past few days and the jail smell from my body. I fix up a plate of food and turn on the TV when Michael walks in.

"Hey man, he rushed over to my side, giving a hug.

"I came to the police station a couple of times, but they wouldn't let me see you," he admits.

"It's fine I'm okay, but I'm going to need help. You know I didn't kill her," I tell him, maintaining eye contact.

He asks me about that night, and I tell him everything that happened and he sighs.

"The story is all over the news because of Cassidy's husband; I guess he's some big shot," he stated.

Yes, he is .Cassidy's husband, Daniel Jones is the owner and CEO of the record label Jonzing World.They manage and produce some of the biggest artists in the music industry.

The news comes on; it's an interview with a lawyer. She's being asked about my case. I turn up the volume

"The defendant is being prosecuted wrongly, majorly because of his job as a male prostitute, but there's a possibility he didn't kill her. I suspect foul play here, the whole thing makes no sense. The DA's office wants a fast conviction because of who the partner of these deceased is. This case is right up my alley, and something doesn't add up; it's the truth," she acknowledged.

Michael looks at me, and I look at him, and we both look at the TV together.

"Right there is your ticket out of this mess; she's your only hope." Michael stated, pointing at the

TV

"Now all you have to do is find her and beg her to take this case, " he added.

And I was going to do just that: find this woman and convince her to take my case.

My whole life was riding on this, my future hanging in the balance.