Melissa Tamez had never known what it meant to feel small until that very moment. The figure sitting on the other side of the interrogation table took up the entire room. Relaxed. Their posture was absolutely carefree. They sat slightly forward on the metal chair, their back forming a gentle arch against the seat’s rest. Their right leg was stretched straight, and their left foot rested on their lap, crossed over their knee. It seemed like the metal cuffs around their wrists could do nothing to restrain their freedom. Their hands were comfortably resting on the worn denim covering their thighs. They didn’t turn to look at Melissa when she came through the door. They were looking off into the distance, as if the dull, yellowing walls of the room could do nothing to obstruct their sight of an infinitely vast sky. Melissa couldn’t shake the impression that this person before her was lovingly staring at the raising moon, in the light and bright dusk of Texas.
They finally turned to look at her when she spoke, having taken her seat across from them. Their shimmering blond curls gently swayed as they faced her, lifted up by a breeze that blew only for them.
“What is your name?”
Melissa barely managed to finish the question, as she almost froze when those rich honey eyes settled on her.
“Goldenrod.”
She knew it was true. In a way, she knew before they said it. She could see it clearly. They were a cascading arc of yellow petals dancing gently in the wind. She could see them growing out by the highway, majestic in between the weeds. She didn’t feel the need to ask for a last name. There wasn’t going to be one. This was Goldenrod, of that she was certain.
She spoke it confidently.
“Then, Goldenrod, tell me why you’re here.”
She had begun to feel more comfortable. Their presence was still imposing, the room might as well have always belonged to them. She didn’t mind. She felt strangely welcome.
“Turned myself in for homicide. Just a few minutes ago.”
She couldn’t bear to see them in bondage.
“Are you comfortable?”
She asked, gesturing at the handcuffs.
“Ah, yeah. Freddie- Sorry, Officer Husk didn’t want to put them on me, but I insisted.”
They declared, amiably shaking their hands in front of them. The chains clinkled musically.
Officer Husk was a beat cop. He must have been coming back to the precinct when Goldenrod came in for their confession. Was this person familiar with him? Or did he introduce himself as Freddie? She thought it was unprofessional. She wasn’t going to reprimand him. She was jealous.
“You can call me Melissa.”
She surprised herself with the offer. She elaborated that her proper title was Detective Tamez but that Melissa would indeed be fine.
“It’s a pleasure.”
Melissa did not know those words could be said sincerely. Most platitudes were simply scripted. Expected. Not this one. Goldenrod was truly glad to meet her.
She caught herself before she could reciprocate. She looked down at her clipboard, a hastily handwritten report of the events she had barely missed elucidated a surreal scene.
“July twenty-seventh, nineteen-seventy-eight. Eighteen hours and fourteen minutes. Suspect of unknown sex, five-foot-eight, white, blond hair, entered the precinct carrying the corpse of a deceased male. Assumed victim is approximately six-foot-two, hispanic, black hair. Suspect offered a confession and produced a potential murder weapon, a seven-inch survival knife, bloodied. Deceased male was taken to the coroner’s office. Initial examination showed deep wound in chest. Suspect shows no signs of injury.”
Goldenrod nodded along as she read.
She saw it vividly in her imagination. Goldenrod gently carrying the larger man in both arms, like a princess. Gracefully pushing the glass doors open with their foot. No one dared interrupt as they confidently made their way inside, each step decisive yet careful, Goldenrod would not allow the man they carried so much as brush against the doorframe, a wall, or furniture. This was a ritual. The yellow flower made their way to the center of the lobby and slowly came down on one knee. Tenderly, they laid down the body on the floor. In a fluid motion they simultaneously stepped back and came down on their knees, hands behind their back. Time began to move once more. An officer began to take notes. Another one, Husk, made sure Goldenrod knew their rights. Two of them carried the corpse away, mindfully treating it as reverently as the suspect had.
“We think we managed to identify him.”
She said.
“Yes, that’s Potro.”
That was all the flower offered. That was all the detective needed.
Everyone knew him as Potro. Obviously, not everyone could spot him in a crowd, but there was no way, in a town this small, that you hadn’t heard about the most eligible bachelor. Mauricio Monvelez was heir to the largest ranch in the region. Cuatro Caballos was a massive, family owned operation that moved significant numbers of cattle and produce. While celebrated, the Monvelez were reclusive. However, a death in such an economically powerful family would certainly shake up the town. They had to handle this carefully. His parents deserved to know before the papers did.
“The boss knows, he saw me leaving the ranch. I’m sure he will inform Mrs. Monvelez.”
It was as if Goldenrod had read her mind. She shook off the thought. It wasn’t that strange, she probably had her concern written all across her face. Instead she asked what Goldenrod meant by boss.
“I am a ranch hand. Raised into it.”
“You assume the job is still yours?”
“I will always be a ranch hand.”
Melissa couldn’t hold eye contact for long. She looked down at the clipboard once again.
“Preliminary results only show Mr. Monvelez’s prints on the knife. Of course that’s…”
“Expected, given the situation. Right?”
Goldenrod showed her their fingers. She had noticed it before. Even from across the table it was plain to see. Her team had told her before she came in, they had been unable to take any prints. The tips of the suspect's digits were perfectly smooth. There was no sign of scarring. If they had been burned off it had been a miraculous job, or done long, long ago.
Goldenrod continued to speak.
“You don’t need to hold a weapon to hurt someone.”