Retribution Chapter three

It was about the point where we pulled up outside the station and I was found a nice little four by four room with a cosy little bed and a nice miniscule window that I decided my life was officially over.
There was no hope for bail, or finding myself a sentence less than forty years. I had been the last at the scene, god knows what my dad had told the police to get them to come out into the middle of a public park and chuck into a police car, hell I’d even had the murder weapon stuffed down my trousers, not to mention the phone and money from the safe. I might as well have walked into the station carrying my mother’s severed head with a sticky note on my chest saying ‘killer’.
I knocked my head against the wall, wondering how my life had become so screwed up. Well, apart from the horrendous upbringing and life in the middle of the main set for crime-watch. But none of that mattered now, my life was over, and if I knew what an atheist was and realise I was one, then I’d be planning on how to kill myself then and there, as my life was going to be a forty year waste of sitting in empty cells and eating food dogs would turn up.
Yet all along, there was this one emotion burning away above any other. Anger.
The fiery ball of sheer rage at my father, my life, the murderer that had ordered the death of my mother and all the other things that had lead to this moment welled in my very gut, entwining itself around my other emotions and blotting them out so that all that was left was sheer, bloody-
“Joe Harley?” came a voice through the peephole in my door.
“I know,” I said miserably, “come and find out the extremely unpredictable question, ‘am I guilty?’”
“Hey,” came a woman’s voice, strangely familiar, “Are you going to shut up for five minutes and let me have a word?”
“Yeah, perfect there, that’s about as long a conversation you’re going to have with somebody you know for the rest of your life!” laughter filled the corridor as the officer on duty unbolted the door.
“Sod off you good for nothing pig,” I retorted, and felt pleased as the red faced man clenched his fists and slammed the door shut behind the woman who had just come in.
My first thought? Woah!
Now, if I’d thought her voice was familiar, then I must’ve been mistaken, as nobody could have forgotten this woman. She was every guys dream, tanned, smooth legs in hot red heels, tight skirt and matching blouse.
She smiled, pulling out the chair from behind the desk nestled in the corner and perching on the edge of the seat, hands folded in her lap. It was this point that I managed to come up with something really intelligent like, ‘buh?’
“Hello Joe,” she said, her voice oddly soothing.
I nodded. Smooth.
“I suppose you’re wondering who I am and what I am doing here?” she looked at me, probably not having caught onto the fact that I had been rendered incapable of speech. “My names Maria Carley, I work in association with your father,”
As the words slowly seeped into my numbed brain, I suddenly realised where I had heard her voice before.
“You’re the woman on the phone at my dad’s work,” I managed, the fact that she was working with the man that had just gotten me thrown into a cell sobering me up.
She nodded, brushing her hair back. “You see Joe, I suppose you have found yourself in an unfortunate situation,”
“To say the least,” I said, beginning to wonder what use this woman was at a time like this.