Archer

By Abigail Falanga

The suspect’s face lit up as I entered the interrogation room.

Great.

I offered a glare and settled into the hard metal chair, arranging an impressive stack of files on the table. “I understand you’ve waived your right to legal counsel at this time, Mr. Archer, so I’ll proceed directly to questions, since clearly you believe you have nothing to hide. This conversation is being recorded. You asked to speak with me specifically. Is there a reason for that?”

“Detective M. Walters?” He grinned again, leaning back. “Yep, there was a reason, though I wasn’t expecting you to be as lovely as you are.” He winked. “What does the M stand for?”

I compressed my lips, found a paper, and began. “Says here you’ve been engaged in a clever piece of white-collar crime.”

“Clever? Why, thank you!”

“So, you’re admitting it?”

Archer smirked. “Let’s hear what I’m accused of first before I confess to anything, Matilda.”

“Matilda!” I choked.

“I’ll keep inventing names until you tell me yours, May.”

I could not let him fluster me. He was disheveled and wearing a green hoodie—but the thought crossed my mind that he’d clean up well. He was attractive, a little chubby in a pleasant way.

And way out of line to flirt with me.

I withdrew the paper detailing the charges the department planned to file. “This says that you, Robert Archer, gained employment at Nottingham Technologies as an IT consultant, then used that position to introduce malware, which drained company accounts and might have even impacted the personal assets of several executives.”

“Might have?”

Definitely did, and we’d prove it. Not that the executives were admitting anything, especially since the crime had revealed some shady dealings at the company. But Archer didn’t need to know all this. I looked him square in his smug face. “Are you confessing?”

“Why would I?”

“Angling for a lighter sentence maybe.” I baited a hook. “It might help your case if you name the associates on the outside who helped you coordinate the attack.”

Archer scratched his nose and gave a quizzical look. “You’re asking the wrong questions.”

“All right, I’ll play along. What questions should I be asking?”

“For starters, why did I allow myself to be caught?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you allowed us to arrest you, Mr. Archer?”

He tapped a finger on the stack of papers. “This probably includes the fact that three of the last five places I’ve been employed have experienced significant security breaches soon after I left. And yet no one ever thought to suspect me—until now. So… why now?”

“You might be protecting an accomplice.”

“I’m the best precision security guy around. It would be easy to hide an accomplice.”

The question, now that Archer had posed it, rankled. It had been there, unacknowledged, in the back of this investigation. Why would a guy this good—clearly with the skill to back up his confidence—make a stupid enough mistake so we could track him?

“Okay, fine.” I leaned back and crossed my arms. “Tell me, Mr. Archer, why did you let yourself get caught?”

“You were right: I am interested in protecting someone.” He leaned forward. “You.”

I almost laughed, but caught myself, casting a level gaze his way. “Care to elaborate?”

“Do you know how Nottingham became a multimillion-dollar company? By ripping off the investments of legacy accounts, like what your father left you.”

Unpleasant memories flooded my mind. Things I didn’t want to relive. I tensed.

He continued. “While digging through some of the files my Golden Arrow bot dug up, I came across a name over and over: Detective M. Walters. It seemed only right to come and warn you.”

“Warn me of what? That you and your friends are stealing the money another entity already stole from me?”

“Not stealing! Or not to keep. The funds have been moved to various charity accounts to help the victims of this corruption scheme.”

I blinked. “Let me get this straight, Archer. You’re confessing to this crime, and you’re saying there’s—what? Corruption? Are you trying to tell me you’re the good guy?”

“Trying my best, Mary. And, yeah, corruption. Not just at Nottingham, but the whole city—including your captain, and right up to Mayor John Prince himself. That’s why we need you, someone on the inside who can get us information to help expose it.”

“You let yourself get caught because you think I’ll help you?” This time, I did laugh at his audacity. “This is the craziest—” I glanced up at the camera, which he had to know was catching everything he said. “You’ve confessed to serious crimes, including ones we didn’t even know about, and now you’re asking me to become an accomplice in whatever you’re planning next? Why would I?”

“Because you’re as much a victim as anyone, and you care about seeing justice served. All the proof you need is in the third file.” Archer winked and stood, chair rasping across the dirty floor.

My hand moved involuntarily to the papers, and I felt something lumpy—a flash drive maybe? But that would wait. I grabbed the whole stack and jumped to my feet. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Tuck’s Bar, probably. Ever been? They have fantastic venison burgers.”

“You can’t—”

“Yeah, I can.” Archer’s seriousness returned for a moment. “By now, the Golden Arrow bot I released has done its thing. The records system is wiped of anything related to the Nottingham investigation, especially me and my friends, and—oh, that camera hasn’t been recording since you came in.”

I gawked. “I can’t let a criminal walk out of here!”

“Accused criminal, and we’re not the bad guys.” Archer pulled the green hood over his head and offered another grin. Kind of charming. “You’ll see—Marian.”

I had to watch him go, weirdly convinced he was right.

And he’d finally gotten my name right, as if he’d known all along.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Abigail Falanga may be found in New Mexico creating magic in many ways—with fabric, food, paper, music, and especially with words! She’s loved fantasy ever since playing out epic adventures of swords, fairies, and monsters with her siblings, and loved sci-fi since her dad’s stories around the dinner table. Besides sharing mad little stories on Havok, she is busily trying to launch approximately five hundred novels into the world. Some of them are even finished!

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