Stacy: The vampire

Adam wasn't joking, but neither was Mack. Abrax sensed a quick movement right behind him, and something cold touched the back of his neck.

"Hahaha, I don't think you're going to do that, because if you do, I'll shoot you," Mack said, holding a gun that gleamed like the sun in the middle of summer.

"Drop that gun. You don't want another body on your hands," Abrax tried to convince the pimp.

"Another body? I didn't kill Dahlia, okay? But you don't care, do you? You just want a scapegoat for the messes you can't solve," Mack spoke quickly, and Adam sensed sincerity in his voice.

"So that's it? You're going to take out two cops, and that's supposed to prove you're innocent in another case?" Abrax appealed to Del Rio's logic.

"And who said I'm innocent? If there's one thing I'm not, it's innocent. But in this case, I'm not the killer, whether you believe it or not."

Steven was subdued by one of the twins, while Mack stood right behind Adam. Seizing the opportunity, Adam threw a sharp elbow, forcing Mack to drop his gun. At the same time, he struck the man holding him hostage, distracting the one who was keeping Steven pinned to the wall. Steven took advantage of the moment, overpowering his captor. Before Mack could react, Adam kicked the gun away and punched him twice—just enough to knock the pimp out.

Steven handcuffed the bulky twins and called for reinforcements.

"We need to take Mack with us now! Leave the others for the rest of the officers," Abrax said.

"Alright, man, but what is it? You think it was him, don't you?" Steven asked.

"I think he knows something, but I don't know if it was him. Look at that over there." Abrax pointed to a cellphone sitting on the table.

"That thing just came out. Aunt Meg wanted one, but did you see the price? Almost no one has one. How did this nutjob get his hands on it?" Adam questioned.

Steven picked up Mack's gun from the ground with a handkerchief. Thanks to Adam's kick, it had landed near the wall. The gun wasn't big, but it gleamed like gold.

"It's a .38 caliber, Smith & Wesson, Chief's Special. Damn, this idiot has good taste," Steven laughed.

Adam unloaded the gun, letting five bullets drop onto the table. But these weren't just any bullets.

"Damn, it was loaded, and very well loaded. Look at this—silver bullets." Adam picked one up and handed it to Steven.

"What the hell, was this guy hunting monsters or something?"

Adam opened the desk drawer, finding a velvet-covered notebook in a deep purple hue—another one of the pimp's eccentricities. He also found an envelope with five thousand dollars inside, along with cocaine and some jewelry. One specific ring caught his attention—it looked like silver, with a large, caramel-colored gemstone in the center, striking and prominent.

"What a weird ring. Could it be a graduation ring?" Adam wondered.

"Graduation? What do you think Mack graduated in? Applied Exploitation? No, it's probably just another one of his decorations."

There was nothing else of interest to the police. Adam and Steven dragged Mack out by his arms. There were no bystanders on the street, except for a stray cat and a woman in her fifties wearing a mini skirt, struggling to light a cigarette.

Before they reached the alley where Steven's bright red car was parked, Mack regained consciousness.

"Oh my God, what happened??" he asked, disoriented.

"Well, Mad Hatter, you were being interrogated, but that wasn't enough for you, so you decided to threaten two cops. Now we're taking you to the station. There, our conversation will be more... productive," Steven said.

"No, no. I didn't do anything. I have rights, okay? I want to call a lawyer!" Mack demanded.

"Did you hear that, Abrax? He has rights and wants a phone call," Steven mocked.

"Yes, I heard. You'll get your call—as soon as we get to the station," Abrax said.

"I want my call now! Where's my cellphone?" Mack insisted.

"That brick? You call that a cellphone? If you had held Adam at gunpoint with that thing, you'd probably have had better chances than with your actual gun, hahaha," Steven laughed.

"We confiscated your personal belongings and arrested your crew. Once you're released—if you're released—you can pick them up."

"Come on, guys, what do you want to let me go? I've got money. How about a thousand bucks for each of you?" Mack tried to bargain.

"Only a thousand? Dude, you have five grand. That offer is ridiculous," Steven scoffed.

"Damn, you found the money," Mack muttered under his breath, then tried again. "Okay, how about twenty-five hundred each? That's a lot of money. I'm sure you guys don't make anywhere near that."

Adam paused for a second and said, "You know who the new sheriff is? Jackson. Old man Jackson." Adam grinned as Mack's face twisted in horror.

"No, no. That's not true. Jack is back?? I thought that was a bad joke. I can't go to jail—I have a past, and Jack doesn't like pimps," Mack stammered.

"Oh yeah? So you admit to being a pimp?" Steven asked.

They had reached the car, and Mack, distracted by the conversation, looked at the vehicle with disgust.

"What the hell is that thing?" Mack sneered.

Steven shoved him.

"You should be honored to ride in my car, you worm," Steven snapped.

"You call this a car?" Mack scoffed.

Adam laughed.

"For a guy who walks around in a green velvet suit looking like an ear of corn, you're pretty picky," Adam teased.

This time, Steven was the one laughing.

Back at the station, the guys found out that Jack wasn't there. Someone said he had left early, along with Kowalski.

"Those two have been spending a lot of time together lately," Adam commented.

"Yeah, but we can interrogate Mack. We need to do the good cop, bad cop routine—I think it'll work," Steven suggested.

"Steven, we beat him up and took down his goons. That routine won't work anymore," Abrax pointed out.

"Fine, let's be sensible then. What do you suggest?" Steven asked.

"Leave it to me," Abrax replied.

In the interrogation room, Mack was much more serious than when he had been arrested. His expression was no longer that of an eccentric, falsely cheerful man—it was the look of someone exhausted and unhappy.

"So, Mr. Mack Del Rio, your birth name isn't actually that, is it? Just like your girls, you use an alias," Steven said.

"I'll say this once—I want a lawyer. I'm not talking without a lawyer!" Mack declared firmly.

Del Rio stood his ground, but so did Adam and Steven.

"Mr. Del Rio, you're already well known in the system, so there's no point in trying to play games here. But understand this—I'm almost certain you know something. And regardless, the whole town is watching recent events unfold. You know how it is—news travels fast. Whether you walk out of here with a lawyer or stay behind bars, you're in deep trouble. People don't like women abusers, whether outside or inside prison. So, if you're innocent of murdering the girl, you better help us. That way, you leave here without the shadow of a criminal hanging over you," Abrax warned.

Mack smirked.

"Are you threatening me, detective?" Del Rio asked.

"No, I'm just shedding light on the facts. And you know it," Abrax replied.

"Alright, I'll talk. But I don't want the usual nonsense—I want a deal. If I tell the truth and help you, I want my freedom. Otherwise, you can lock me up. And I guarantee your job will be much harder—if you even care about solving the case. Because, honestly, authorities don't usually give a damn when someone like Dahlia dies," Mack said.

Adam and Steven exchanged glances, mentally calculating whether they could offer Mack that privilege—and if it was worth it.

"If what you tell us really helps—and I mean really helps, no dead ends, no tricks—I'll personally talk to Jack, and you'll be released. We'll drop the charges against you," Abrax stated.

"And you have the power to do that, pretty boy?" Mack smirked.