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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Sin City Slaying Chapter 8
Fandom: Romani Detective/Preying Eyes Original Fiction
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,194
Summary: The suspects are interviewed and presumably things happen.
Author’s Note: Not much to say today. I need a nap. Oh, and I have no friggen idea if any of this is even plausible or not, but eh. It’s fiction. If you were looking for something more realistic, you probably wouldn’t be in my journal.
“I want a lawyer,” Taryn Fairchild said before Andrej was even fully inside the room. “Now.”
Andrej sighed and looked over his shoulder at Zayne. “We will be happy to prov-.”
“Now,” she repeated, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”
“A spoiled, selfish brat,” he muttered in Romanian. Andrej stepped aside and allowed Zayne into the room with him before he responded in English. “I am dealing with someone who may or may not have been involved with the death of another person. Whether the victim was innocent or not, he deserves justice. And until my partner and I are one hundred and ten percent positive you were not involved, you will be treated like any other suspect.”
Zayne snorted and pulled out a chair. He turned it backwards and straddled it, resting his elbows on the table. “Look, we have no problems letting you contact your lawyer, however, the sooner you answer our questions, the sooner you can go. So, why not throw us a bone?”
She glared at Zayne. “I want my lawyer.”
Shrugging, Zayne stood up. “Whatever floats your boat, honey.” He looked at Andrej and winked. “How long will it take her attorney to get here from Nashville?”
Andrej glanced at his watch. “About six hours, give or take.”
“Get comfortable because you’re going to be here for a while,” Zayne said. He inclined his head towards the door. “We’ll give you a couple minutes to call your lawyer. Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll know someone here who can help you out.”
“Knock on the door and the uniform outside will get you whatever you need,” Andrej added.
They let themselves out of the interview room and let themselves into the observation area. James and Adrien nearly got whiplash turning towards the opening door.
“Damn, Andy,” James said, pride written all over his face. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you pull the bad cop card.”
“That was pretty fantastic,” Adrien agreed. “Some of these people get the littlest bit of fame and suddenly decide they’re obligated to special treatment.”
Andrej scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He sat heavily in one of the free chairs. “I was not trying to be the bad cop,” he muttered.
“He was playing the part of the burnt out, tired as hell, done with the celebrities cop,” Zayne clarified. “Although the kid is right, it was pretty fantastic.”
Laughing, Andrej shook his head. “We are not going to get anything useful out of her if she lawyers up.”
“Maybe,” Zayne said. “But maybe not. I’m not sure she had anything directly to do with Anderson’s murder. Can’t really picture her pulling the trigger.”
“What are you thinking,” James asked. He leaned forward in his chair, hands on his thighs.
“Not sure yet, but if we can convince her that we’ll cut her a deal of some kind if she tells us what she knows, maybe we can still make an arrest.”
“You’ll let her go even if she’s involved somehow,” Adrien asked. He was leaning against the wall beside the two-way mirror.
“Oh hell no,” Zayne laughed. “If she’s involved in any way, her ass is going down. But if she didn’t pull the trigger and was only marginally involved, we can cut her a lighter sentence.”
“And if she’s not?” Adrien pushed off the wall and started to pace the little room. “I mean, if she’s more than a little involved?”
“Then they’ll throw the book at her,” James said.
“Good,” Adrien replied, finally choosing a chair and having a seat. “I’d hate to think she got away with it all because she threw someone else under the bus.”
“We don’t work that way here, kid,” Zayne said. “You can take that to the bank.”
A knock on the door drew their attention that way. “Enter,” James called.
A young officer stuck his head into the room. “Your interviewee would like you back in the room.”
“Well, that was fast,” Zayne muttered. “Guess it’s time to see if she’s going to cooperate or not.”
“Let’s pray that she has had a change of heart,” Andrej said, following Zayne out of the room and into the one next to it.
“I doubt it,” Zayne said. “Girls like her never do.”
“So, you’re saying these pictures aren’t real,” Trish asked, tapping on one eight-by-ten color copy of Tyler Alderman groping Taryn Fairchild’s rear end.
“There’s this thing called Photoshop you know,” he sneered.
“So, someone’s trying to smear you,” Hilary said, refraining from rolling her eyes.
“Exactly,” he said, leaning back in his chair and looking smug. “Just like those fake news media assholes did. Cost me my marriage. Made it look like I was cheating on my wife.”
Trish looked at Hilary and tried not to laugh.
“Okay,” Hilary said, wishing she could toss him in a cell for being a douchebag. “Fine. What about the texts? You threatened to kill Kyle Anderson.”
“Pssht,” he said, waving the accusation away with a hand. “Haven’t you ever told someone you were going to kill them? People do it all the damn time and it don’t mean a thing.”
“Yeah, but I can safely say none of the people I’ve ever casually threatened to kill have ever wound up murdered,” Hilary pointed out.
“Reyes would have been your first body anyway, Maxwell,” Trish laughed.
“As true as that might be,” Hilary said, grinning, “he’s still breathing. Oh, and interrogating your girlfriend down the hallway.”
Tyler’s eyes flashed with curiosity. “I don’t have a girlfriend, I’m happily married, remember?”
“Uh-huh,” Trish muttered. “Which is why Kyle Anderson had a good thirty pictures of you snogging Taryn Fairchild?” She shook her head. “I wonder if your new wife will be more accommodating than your first was when the cheating rumors,” she made air quotes as she said the last word, “came out.”
“You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about,” Alderman grunted. “I’m not talking to either of you any longer.”
“Okay,” Trish said, shrugging. “You want a sandwich, Hil? I’m starving.”
“Sure,” she said. “I could go for a turkey club right now. Oooh, and some of those fresh kettle chips that they make.”
“You read my mind,” Trish said, stepping to the door and knocking so the uniform would open it for them. “Knock if you need anything,” she said, not looking back at the suspect, stewing in his own frustration.
“What are you two doing here,” James asked, startled when the women came into the observation room.
“Dickhead swears he wasn’t cheating,” Hilary said, sitting down.
“He’s a liar,” Trish said. “But we already knew that.”
“Are they having any luck,” Hilary asked, pointing towards where Zayne and Andrej were entering the room.
“She tried to lawyer up,” James said, rolling his eyes. “They came back here for a few when she suddenly had a change of heart of some kind. They just went back in to see what’s going on.”
“I’m going to take a guess and say that Andy was a good detective and turned off the audio while she called her lawyer,” Trish asked. “So, we have no idea what they talked about.”
“You’d be right,” James confirmed. “But as much as it’d be nice to know, he did the right thing. Could blow our whole damn case if we violated her rights like that.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Trish scoffed. “Follow the rules they said, it’d be worth it, they said.” She laughed. “He really does keep Zayne out of trouble though.”
“So, did you change your mind,” Zayne asked, returning to his backwards chair. He tapped his fingers on the table and watched her.
“No, I still want my lawyer, but he’s not able to get here in time.”
“Would you like us to call a public defender for you,” Andrej asked. He took a seat next to Zayne.
“He’s joking, right,” she asked, looking at Zayne. “No, I do not want some useless public defender. I want a real lawyer.”
“That is your prerogative,” Andrej said. “However, your friend, Mr. Alderman, is being interviewed down the hall as we speak. He has not asked for his lawyer yet,” he added, echoing Hilary’s comments to Alderman moments before.
“Like I care,” she spat. “He’s a worthless piece of crap anyway. Pardon my language, but it’s true. He lies like most men breathe.”
Andrej risked a glance at Zayne who nodded.
“He lied to you often,” Andrej asked.
“I swear, everything that came out of his mouth was a lie,” she said. Taryn crossed her arms over her chest again, but instead of glaring, she pouted. “Thought I’d fall for it all, too.”
“Men complain about women,” Andrej said, trying to not offend either of his boyfriends who were listening, “however, in my experience, men are far worse than women ever are. Not just with lying, but gossiping, and being drama queens.”
He felt more than heard Zayne’s repressed laughter at that.
“Right,” she said, looking skyward. “And god only knows I gave that idiot Tyler enough chances to fix his mistakes. But he never did. Apparently, he’s a compulsive liar.”
“What makes you think that,” Zayne asked. “Men lie like rugs, as you well know. But why do you think he’s compulsive about it?”
“Because he lies about everything,” she said. “You know he cheated on his first wife, right? He still tells people he was set up. But he was necking with that woman in the bar in front of God and everybody. I know, because I was there that night. No one knew who I was then, but I was there.”
“So, what kind of tales did he spin that pissed you off,” Zayne asked, praying she was angry enough to spill the tea.
“Oh, the usual lies men tell women,” she growled. “I love you, Taryn. She means nothing to me, Taryn. I promise I’ll leave my wife this week, Taryn. I had no idea she was pregnant, Taryn. She must have been cheating on me, Taryn, because I haven’t been sleeping with her since I fell in love with you.”
Taryn hiccupped and the tears started rolling down her cheeks. Andrej grabbed the box of tissues they kept in the room for this reason and handed it over to her. She grabbed one and dabbed at her eyes.
Always the performer, Andrej thought. She’s suspected of murder and evidently more concerned about the state of her makeup.
“I hate men,” she said between sobs. “Why couldn’t I have been born a lesbian? Or at least bi?”
“That would not have made your life any easier,” Andrej said, understanding how she felt. His bad habit of falling for straight men had made him question his life on more than one occasion.
“Like you have any idea,” she said, spitting her words out. “Either of you. You both probably have beautiful, doting wives that you don’t have to lie to in order to be happy.”
Andrej looked at Zayne who shrugged.
“Actually, he and I are living together,” Zayne said. “Not how I planned my future, but hey, it works. And he’s a good cook, too, so that makes up for a lot.”
She looked up from the small pile of tissues she’d created on the table. “Seriously? You’re both gay?”
“I am,” Andrej said, giving Zayne a weary look. “He however, has no preference and has had many girlfriends over the years.”
“He’s my first boyfriend though,” Zayne said, trying to distract her enough so that she stopped crying. “I wouldn’t trade him for anything, not even a gingerbread narco,” Zayne added with a teasing smile on his lips.
Taryn laughed. “I’m not sure what that last part means, but he seems like a good catch.” She sighed, tears welling up in her eyes again. “You seem to have better luck than I do. Every one of my boyfriends end up being garbage. I thought Tyler actually loved me, but I was wrong. He only wanted something on the side to tide him over when he couldn’t get home. I hate him.”
“Talk to us,” Zayne said, reaching out and touching her hand. “I think you know what happened to Kyle Anderson. I want you to tell us, from beginning to end.”
“Will I go to jail,” she asked.
Andrej took in the terrified look on her face and sighed. “I cannot say until I know how involved you were in Mr. Anderson’s death. However, we can speak to the district attorney and see if he would be willing to go easier on you for being so cooperative.”
She nodded. “I didn’t kill him, I can promise you that much.”
“That’s good,” Zayne said. “Already means you’re likely to get a break from the DA. Now, start at the beginning and tell us what you know. You don’t owe that lying son of a bitch a damn thing.”
Her eyes lit up at that and Andrej had hope that meant they were close to closing this one for good.
Fandom: Romani Detective/Preying Eyes Original Fiction
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,194
Summary: The suspects are interviewed and presumably things happen.
Author’s Note: Not much to say today. I need a nap. Oh, and I have no friggen idea if any of this is even plausible or not, but eh. It’s fiction. If you were looking for something more realistic, you probably wouldn’t be in my journal.
“I want a lawyer,” Taryn Fairchild said before Andrej was even fully inside the room. “Now.”
Andrej sighed and looked over his shoulder at Zayne. “We will be happy to prov-.”
“Now,” she repeated, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”
“A spoiled, selfish brat,” he muttered in Romanian. Andrej stepped aside and allowed Zayne into the room with him before he responded in English. “I am dealing with someone who may or may not have been involved with the death of another person. Whether the victim was innocent or not, he deserves justice. And until my partner and I are one hundred and ten percent positive you were not involved, you will be treated like any other suspect.”
Zayne snorted and pulled out a chair. He turned it backwards and straddled it, resting his elbows on the table. “Look, we have no problems letting you contact your lawyer, however, the sooner you answer our questions, the sooner you can go. So, why not throw us a bone?”
She glared at Zayne. “I want my lawyer.”
Shrugging, Zayne stood up. “Whatever floats your boat, honey.” He looked at Andrej and winked. “How long will it take her attorney to get here from Nashville?”
Andrej glanced at his watch. “About six hours, give or take.”
“Get comfortable because you’re going to be here for a while,” Zayne said. He inclined his head towards the door. “We’ll give you a couple minutes to call your lawyer. Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll know someone here who can help you out.”
“Knock on the door and the uniform outside will get you whatever you need,” Andrej added.
They let themselves out of the interview room and let themselves into the observation area. James and Adrien nearly got whiplash turning towards the opening door.
“Damn, Andy,” James said, pride written all over his face. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you pull the bad cop card.”
“That was pretty fantastic,” Adrien agreed. “Some of these people get the littlest bit of fame and suddenly decide they’re obligated to special treatment.”
Andrej scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He sat heavily in one of the free chairs. “I was not trying to be the bad cop,” he muttered.
“He was playing the part of the burnt out, tired as hell, done with the celebrities cop,” Zayne clarified. “Although the kid is right, it was pretty fantastic.”
Laughing, Andrej shook his head. “We are not going to get anything useful out of her if she lawyers up.”
“Maybe,” Zayne said. “But maybe not. I’m not sure she had anything directly to do with Anderson’s murder. Can’t really picture her pulling the trigger.”
“What are you thinking,” James asked. He leaned forward in his chair, hands on his thighs.
“Not sure yet, but if we can convince her that we’ll cut her a deal of some kind if she tells us what she knows, maybe we can still make an arrest.”
“You’ll let her go even if she’s involved somehow,” Adrien asked. He was leaning against the wall beside the two-way mirror.
“Oh hell no,” Zayne laughed. “If she’s involved in any way, her ass is going down. But if she didn’t pull the trigger and was only marginally involved, we can cut her a lighter sentence.”
“And if she’s not?” Adrien pushed off the wall and started to pace the little room. “I mean, if she’s more than a little involved?”
“Then they’ll throw the book at her,” James said.
“Good,” Adrien replied, finally choosing a chair and having a seat. “I’d hate to think she got away with it all because she threw someone else under the bus.”
“We don’t work that way here, kid,” Zayne said. “You can take that to the bank.”
A knock on the door drew their attention that way. “Enter,” James called.
A young officer stuck his head into the room. “Your interviewee would like you back in the room.”
“Well, that was fast,” Zayne muttered. “Guess it’s time to see if she’s going to cooperate or not.”
“Let’s pray that she has had a change of heart,” Andrej said, following Zayne out of the room and into the one next to it.
“I doubt it,” Zayne said. “Girls like her never do.”
“So, you’re saying these pictures aren’t real,” Trish asked, tapping on one eight-by-ten color copy of Tyler Alderman groping Taryn Fairchild’s rear end.
“There’s this thing called Photoshop you know,” he sneered.
“So, someone’s trying to smear you,” Hilary said, refraining from rolling her eyes.
“Exactly,” he said, leaning back in his chair and looking smug. “Just like those fake news media assholes did. Cost me my marriage. Made it look like I was cheating on my wife.”
Trish looked at Hilary and tried not to laugh.
“Okay,” Hilary said, wishing she could toss him in a cell for being a douchebag. “Fine. What about the texts? You threatened to kill Kyle Anderson.”
“Pssht,” he said, waving the accusation away with a hand. “Haven’t you ever told someone you were going to kill them? People do it all the damn time and it don’t mean a thing.”
“Yeah, but I can safely say none of the people I’ve ever casually threatened to kill have ever wound up murdered,” Hilary pointed out.
“Reyes would have been your first body anyway, Maxwell,” Trish laughed.
“As true as that might be,” Hilary said, grinning, “he’s still breathing. Oh, and interrogating your girlfriend down the hallway.”
Tyler’s eyes flashed with curiosity. “I don’t have a girlfriend, I’m happily married, remember?”
“Uh-huh,” Trish muttered. “Which is why Kyle Anderson had a good thirty pictures of you snogging Taryn Fairchild?” She shook her head. “I wonder if your new wife will be more accommodating than your first was when the cheating rumors,” she made air quotes as she said the last word, “came out.”
“You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about,” Alderman grunted. “I’m not talking to either of you any longer.”
“Okay,” Trish said, shrugging. “You want a sandwich, Hil? I’m starving.”
“Sure,” she said. “I could go for a turkey club right now. Oooh, and some of those fresh kettle chips that they make.”
“You read my mind,” Trish said, stepping to the door and knocking so the uniform would open it for them. “Knock if you need anything,” she said, not looking back at the suspect, stewing in his own frustration.
“What are you two doing here,” James asked, startled when the women came into the observation room.
“Dickhead swears he wasn’t cheating,” Hilary said, sitting down.
“He’s a liar,” Trish said. “But we already knew that.”
“Are they having any luck,” Hilary asked, pointing towards where Zayne and Andrej were entering the room.
“She tried to lawyer up,” James said, rolling his eyes. “They came back here for a few when she suddenly had a change of heart of some kind. They just went back in to see what’s going on.”
“I’m going to take a guess and say that Andy was a good detective and turned off the audio while she called her lawyer,” Trish asked. “So, we have no idea what they talked about.”
“You’d be right,” James confirmed. “But as much as it’d be nice to know, he did the right thing. Could blow our whole damn case if we violated her rights like that.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Trish scoffed. “Follow the rules they said, it’d be worth it, they said.” She laughed. “He really does keep Zayne out of trouble though.”
“So, did you change your mind,” Zayne asked, returning to his backwards chair. He tapped his fingers on the table and watched her.
“No, I still want my lawyer, but he’s not able to get here in time.”
“Would you like us to call a public defender for you,” Andrej asked. He took a seat next to Zayne.
“He’s joking, right,” she asked, looking at Zayne. “No, I do not want some useless public defender. I want a real lawyer.”
“That is your prerogative,” Andrej said. “However, your friend, Mr. Alderman, is being interviewed down the hall as we speak. He has not asked for his lawyer yet,” he added, echoing Hilary’s comments to Alderman moments before.
“Like I care,” she spat. “He’s a worthless piece of crap anyway. Pardon my language, but it’s true. He lies like most men breathe.”
Andrej risked a glance at Zayne who nodded.
“He lied to you often,” Andrej asked.
“I swear, everything that came out of his mouth was a lie,” she said. Taryn crossed her arms over her chest again, but instead of glaring, she pouted. “Thought I’d fall for it all, too.”
“Men complain about women,” Andrej said, trying to not offend either of his boyfriends who were listening, “however, in my experience, men are far worse than women ever are. Not just with lying, but gossiping, and being drama queens.”
He felt more than heard Zayne’s repressed laughter at that.
“Right,” she said, looking skyward. “And god only knows I gave that idiot Tyler enough chances to fix his mistakes. But he never did. Apparently, he’s a compulsive liar.”
“What makes you think that,” Zayne asked. “Men lie like rugs, as you well know. But why do you think he’s compulsive about it?”
“Because he lies about everything,” she said. “You know he cheated on his first wife, right? He still tells people he was set up. But he was necking with that woman in the bar in front of God and everybody. I know, because I was there that night. No one knew who I was then, but I was there.”
“So, what kind of tales did he spin that pissed you off,” Zayne asked, praying she was angry enough to spill the tea.
“Oh, the usual lies men tell women,” she growled. “I love you, Taryn. She means nothing to me, Taryn. I promise I’ll leave my wife this week, Taryn. I had no idea she was pregnant, Taryn. She must have been cheating on me, Taryn, because I haven’t been sleeping with her since I fell in love with you.”
Taryn hiccupped and the tears started rolling down her cheeks. Andrej grabbed the box of tissues they kept in the room for this reason and handed it over to her. She grabbed one and dabbed at her eyes.
Always the performer, Andrej thought. She’s suspected of murder and evidently more concerned about the state of her makeup.
“I hate men,” she said between sobs. “Why couldn’t I have been born a lesbian? Or at least bi?”
“That would not have made your life any easier,” Andrej said, understanding how she felt. His bad habit of falling for straight men had made him question his life on more than one occasion.
“Like you have any idea,” she said, spitting her words out. “Either of you. You both probably have beautiful, doting wives that you don’t have to lie to in order to be happy.”
Andrej looked at Zayne who shrugged.
“Actually, he and I are living together,” Zayne said. “Not how I planned my future, but hey, it works. And he’s a good cook, too, so that makes up for a lot.”
She looked up from the small pile of tissues she’d created on the table. “Seriously? You’re both gay?”
“I am,” Andrej said, giving Zayne a weary look. “He however, has no preference and has had many girlfriends over the years.”
“He’s my first boyfriend though,” Zayne said, trying to distract her enough so that she stopped crying. “I wouldn’t trade him for anything, not even a gingerbread narco,” Zayne added with a teasing smile on his lips.
Taryn laughed. “I’m not sure what that last part means, but he seems like a good catch.” She sighed, tears welling up in her eyes again. “You seem to have better luck than I do. Every one of my boyfriends end up being garbage. I thought Tyler actually loved me, but I was wrong. He only wanted something on the side to tide him over when he couldn’t get home. I hate him.”
“Talk to us,” Zayne said, reaching out and touching her hand. “I think you know what happened to Kyle Anderson. I want you to tell us, from beginning to end.”
“Will I go to jail,” she asked.
Andrej took in the terrified look on her face and sighed. “I cannot say until I know how involved you were in Mr. Anderson’s death. However, we can speak to the district attorney and see if he would be willing to go easier on you for being so cooperative.”
She nodded. “I didn’t kill him, I can promise you that much.”
“That’s good,” Zayne said. “Already means you’re likely to get a break from the DA. Now, start at the beginning and tell us what you know. You don’t owe that lying son of a bitch a damn thing.”
Her eyes lit up at that and Andrej had hope that meant they were close to closing this one for good.
