My Daughter's Teacher Pt. 03

*Part 2 https://www.literotica.com/s/my-daughters-teacher-pt-02

I glance in the rear view mirror at both Cass and Jess. I know why that's where Cass went, but it seemed fitting. Both of them are quiet, Jess just looking out the window with Cass on her phone. I look back to the road and decide just to go back to our house, worrying about how we're going to get Cass back to hers later.

I'm almost home when I notice a pair of bright flashing lights behind me. I instinctively look down to make sure I'm not speeding. Nope. I slow down and pull over to the shoulder. The police SUV pulls behind me, angling so it's driver's side is away from my car. I frown, it's half in the road. I put my car in park. Then I notice a second car pull up behind him. Both officers wait there for a moment. Around the corner in front of me comes a second SUV and car, both flashing. They stop traffic on the other side of the road.

"Dad? What's going on?" Jess asked nervously.

"I don't know dear. We'll find out." I noticed that the cars are positioned so they wouldn't get into crossfire. This wasn't good. "Its probably a mistake honey" I quick glance at Cass confirmed that it wasn't.

I lower my window and put my hands on the steering wheel. Glances in the mirrors and next to me showed multiple firearms pointed at my direction. "Put your hands out the window" a voice calls over the loud speaker. I comply. I follow the next couple instructions, until I'm kneeling in the road, behind my car, hands behind my head and ankles crossed. There's a hand holding my interlocked fingers while I'm getting searched.

Out of the corner of my eye I see movement at the car. Two uniformed officers open the far door, pull both Cass and Jess out. Instinctively I turn my head at the sight of someone herding my daughter. "Don't fucking move," comes a loss voice in front of me. The person behind pushes me face down into the pavement. A knee presses into my back as my arm is cranked behind me. "It's okay baby" I call to Jess. I'm doing the best I can to sound convincing. I can tell that it's not working. I wince when my other arm is pulled behind me and cuffed. I'm held there for another couple minutes, wondering what they think I did to warrant such treatment. I'm lifted to my feet and guided towards a patrol car.

"Can you tell me why I'm being arrested?" I ask at the officer holding my arm.

"We got a tip" was the short curt reply I recieved. The feeling I got was that I wasn't going to get any information from this guy. I decide the best plan is to shut up. They don't ask any more questions at this time. My pockets are emptied then I'm loaded into the police car.

The ride down to the station is uneventful. The officer in the seat in front of me casting angry looks at me from time to time. I try to ignore it, I try to ignore the steel of the cuffs biting into my wrists. My thought moves to Jess and Cass. More specifically Jess, my hope that she's okay. That Cass is helping to calm her when I'm not there. My heart is racing at the thought of my daughter getting hurt or being in distress. Just so what it takes to get out of this.

I'm lead into the station and sat in a windowless room. My cuffs are loosened at my request but keep behind my back. I sit there. And sit there. My eyes looking for some indication of what's going on our how long I've been waiting only to be disappointed. I flex my fingers in the cuffs, trying to keep circulation going. The chair not helping my impatience. The hard plastic is irritatingly uncomfortable. I shift in the chair a couple times before standing up and pacing the small room. I look around. I look into the corner at the camera watching me. I sit back down and wait.

What feels like an hour of leg tapping and pacing passes when I'm finally rewarded with a click of the door. In walk two detectives. One is African American, 6'1" roughly 240lbs, a little bit older than myself. Mostly gray hair kept short around his head. No facial hair. He's wearing a well fitting blue suit with a badge hanging. The other one is a younger man, fair skin, brown hair with a mustache. I would guess he's in his mid 30s. Dressed in a brown coat and jeans.

"This is detective Carmichael and I'm detective Boone" says the African American gentleman. Carmichael moves behind me and releases me from the cuffs. I rub my wrists a they tingle.

"I'm Jeff, is my daughter okay?"

"The two young ladies are being well taken care of right now Mr. Dayton." Boone sits at the table across from me with a note pad and pen. "Can we get you anything right now Mr. Dayton? Drink, snacks,..."

The words hang between us. My frustrating builds to the surface before I can push it back down. "A reason why I'm here would be nice" I say a little more snapped than I had ment it.

"Tell me about today Mr. Dayton" Det. Boone asks.

I sigh. I think about how I want to answer that question. Down to the detail of how big my bowel movement was. That's not what he's looking for though. The only thing I could think of was the volleyball game.

"I took my daughter Jess to the beach. Her teacher was there, so we talked and ended up joining a volleyball game with their group. There was a disagreement so we decided to leave" The truth, minimalistic but still the truth.

"Tell me about the disagreement"

"One of the guys, Nate, was a little aggressive with a spike directed at my daughter so I repayed the favor. He didn't like it so he decided to take his anger our on Cass. I stepped between them so he hit me twice"

Det Boone writes down some notes. He let's the silence linger in the room. I fidget with my hands. I don't know what they're thinking. For what feels like to long there's a silence.

"Where did you get the abrasions on your knuckles?"

I look at my left hand, then my right. Sure enough I see red skin. "I don't remember exactly. It's been a while since I've played volleyball, maybe I scuffed it up there" Neither of the detectives seemed convinced.

The quiet detective, Carmichael I remembered, set a folder down in front of me. Inside were pictures of bruises. My curiosity gets the better of me. I begin to look, noticing the ones labeled F1. I assumed they were of Cass. She had fading bruises across most of her body, with some bring more fresh. Next was Jess' face. There was a little red on her cheek and her eye was turning a little purple. Next was Nate. His face was more bruised that I thought it would be from one punch. More bruises on his arms with other abrasions. I frowned, shaking my head.

"What's all this?" I keep flipping as there are pictures of a battered Dan and Luke. Each of the three boys looked like they had been in one hell of a brawl. The realization finally hit me. Nate had called, spinning some story that I had kicked the ass of all the of them before, what, kidnapping my daughter and Cass. It's my turn to let the silence linger. I fold my arms across my chest, waiting for an answer.

"Mr. Dayton, we're trying to find out what happened here. So tell us what happened."

"I did" Nothing more. I can guess, hypothesize, convince, and plead. Right now I was playing defense without knowing the moves of the other team.

"Okay. Why don't you tell me how you know Miss Lawson." Boone looks down at the files then back at me.

It takes me a second before I realize. "Oh, Miss Cass. She was my daughter's teacher last year." I pause, wondering if that's all I should reveal. I've given something away in my mannerisms, I know it. The silence gets to me so I continue. "A few months ago we had a romantic encounter in Florida. It was only a one time thing and we hadn't even talked since that night"

There was some nodding, notes and silence. This time I can maintain myself. There was nothing else to tell.

"That's the only contact you've had with Ms. Lawson?"

"There were some interactions at school, but those were professional. We saw each other at the Disney park before running into each other at the bar. After that we went back to my room together." There was nothing to hide, we were grown adults when it happened.

"Where is your daughter's mother?" He asks. Honestly it's a shift in the conversation that I wasn't expecting.

"I'm sorry, what does that have to do with this?" I ask a little too loudly.

"We're just trying to get information Sir. Who do you live with right now?"

"What? Tell me what's really going on?"

"The more information you give us the better it will be for you."

A feeling of foreboding selling in the pit of my stomach. There's a piece of this puzzle that I'm missing. "No, I don't think I'll tell you about her"

The detective leans back, relaxing. "Okay. It's there anything else about today that you remember?"

I shook my head no.

"Okay, then that's all we have for now. We're going to move you to the county jail while we wait for your preliminary hearing"

"Wait, you can't be serious. I just defended myself. I haven't done anything wrong"

"Mr. Dayton, that's the path we're going to pursue right now. So unless there's something else you'd like to tell us, then that's all."

I know Nate beats Cass, but I can't prove it. I know somehow Nate beat his two friends just to use against me. The only problem is that I don't have any proof.

"When do I get my phone call?"

"We'll arrange for something soon. For now you're going to be moved."