The Last Call

Detective Ryan Carter stared at the body sprawled across the cold wooden floor. Blood seeped from a gunshot wound in the victim’s chest, pooling around the man’s white button-up shirt. The shattered remains of a whiskey glass lay nearby, its amber liquid soaking into the carpet.

Officer Jenkins approached cautiously. “Victim’s name is Mark Ellison. Thirty-eight. Banker. No signs of forced entry.”

Carter exhaled sharply, running a hand through his graying hair. “Means he knew his killer.”

He kneeled beside the body, noting the phone still clutched in Mark’s hand. He gently pried it away, scrolling through the last call. 10:42 PM – Natalie Ellison.

Mark’s wife.

“Jenkins, bring in the wife,” Carter ordered.

Within an hour, Natalie sat across from him in the interrogation room, her blue eyes puffy from crying. Her trembling hands clutched a tissue as she sniffled.

“I—I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Mark called me last night, but I missed it. I was at my sister’s house. When I called back, he didn’t answer.”

Carter studied her. “How was your marriage, Mrs. Ellison?”

She hesitated. “It wasn’t perfect. Mark was… distant lately. But I never thought—” Her voice broke.

Carter leaned forward. “Did he have enemies? Anyone who might have wanted him dead?”

She hesitated again. “He had a business partner, Luke Dawson. They had arguments about money.”

Jenkins poked his head in. “Luke Dawson’s here.”

Carter nodded and turned to Natalie. “We’ll talk later.”

Luke Dawson entered, his dark suit immaculate, his expression unreadable. He sat down across from Carter, hands clasped.

“I assume this is about Mark?”

Carter leaned back. “You don’t seem too shaken.”

Luke sighed. “I’m not surprised. Mark had debts. He got in deep with some bad people.”

“Bad people?” Carter raised an eyebrow.

Luke hesitated. “I warned him, but he wouldn’t listen. He borrowed money from a guy named Victor Russo—a loan shark.”

Carter’s eyes darkened. Victor Russo was a known enforcer in the city’s underground crime scene.

“Where were you last night?” Carter asked.

Luke’s jaw tightened. “At home. Alone.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Jenkins handed Carter a forensic report. His eyes scanned the page—and froze. Gunpowder residue. On Natalie Ellison’s coat.

He looked up. “Mrs. Ellison, you said you were at your sister’s all night?”

Natalie stiffened. “I was.”

Carter slid the report across the table. “Then why is there gunpowder residue on your coat?”

She paled. “I—I don’t know.”

Carter pressed. “Did Mark find out about something? Something you wanted to keep hidden?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. “He found out about me and Luke.”

Luke shot her a glare. “Natalie—”

She sobbed. “Mark was going to ruin us! I just wanted to scare him, not—” Her voice cracked. “Not kill him.”

Carter sighed, signaling Jenkins.

As the cuffs clicked around her wrists, Natalie whispered, “I never meant for this to happen.”

Carter shook his head. “That’s the thing about murder. Once you pull the trigger, there’s no taking it back.”