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A Short Story : A Story?

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“You had better start remembering because you’re in a lot of trouble,” Detective Wallace said, waiting for his partner to return with the rap sheet.
“What are you guys saying? Why am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong,” Raymond said, getting aggravated, as he moved around in the chair trying to get comfortable.
“A witness saw you leaving the house where someone murdered a woman.”
“So that is what’s going on here. You are wrong. I might be homeless and need a shower, but I’m not a murderer,” Raymond said ready to leave.
“Just relax, “Detective Wallace said, waiting for his partner to return.
After several minutes, Defective Johnson entered carrying a file, “The prints match,” he said, handing it to his partner.
Looking at it for several minutes, Detective Wallace was ready to talk to Raymond. “I want you to settle down and answer my questions.”
“Yes Sir,” he answered calming down somewhat.
“Two weeks ago yesterday, a woman saw you running from the house. She described you even to that,” he said, pointing to the ski cap. “Do you remember it?”
“Well, kind of,” Raymond said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Tell me about it, but remember we have an eyewitness who saw you leaving the house. Should I bring her in to identify you?” The Detective asked. “That won’t be necessary, I remember the morning,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. One night, I was sleeping down by the riverbank and woke up hungry enough to eat a bear. After checking several houses, I found a door open, went inside

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