June 10 11:20 p.m.
Detective Robert Pearson looked away from the two-way mirror and glanced at his partner. "So, what do ya' think?"
Detective Jeremy Alveraz shook his head slowly as he gazed through the mirror. "She's hard to read. She's very calm, I'll give her that." He paused and squinted as he leaned toward the glass. "Does it look like she's smirking?"
Pearson looked back at the woman sitting in the interrogation room. He thought he saw what his partner was talking about. The woman was sitting with her arms crossed and had what looked to be a very faint smirk on the end of her lips. She had one leg crossed over the other, her foot dangling in the air. The only evidence of her true emotional state was the way her foot bounced impatiently.
"It does look like she's smirking," Pearson replied slowly. "And she seems impatient. I don't know...both of those things don't make sense. You wouldn't think she had just been arrested for a gruesome murder, the way she looks right now."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Alveraz replied. "She's definitely too calm for my tastes. A fucking ice queen, look at her."
Pearson nodded in agreement. It was a shame, really, that a hard, beautiful woman like that might be guilty of murder. She wasn't some ditzy girl, this one. This was a real woman.
Her blonde-streaked brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She wore tight black jeans with a sleek black leather jacket. Her face was pale, her cheeks sharp, and her mouth was thin yet sensuous. Sharp green eyes were staring directly at the two-way mirror, as though she could see right through it. No, this woman was definitely not some delicate flower. A fucking ice queen, maybe, but a damn beautiful one.
"I think we made her wait long enough," Pearson said, nodding at the woman through the glass.
Alveraz gathered his folders and followed him to the next room. As soon as the door opened, the woman shifted her sharp gaze directly toward Pearson.
Damn, I wish I could stare into those eyes as I...
He cleared his mind as quickly as he could. He hoped the woman couldn't tell his thoughts. He learned a long time ago that the clever perps could read people like books.
God help me, if I'm blushing like a schoolboy...
"Good evening, detectives," the woman said, her smirk more pronounced now.
Pearson glanced sideways at his partner. Alveraz hated perps who had a smart mouth. If this interrogation was going to be productive, he figured he better take control now. "Good evening?" Pearson asked, deciding to play along with her game. "I don't know, I think that depends on what side of the table you're sitting on, don't you agree?"
The woman leaned back in her chair, her green-eyed stare boring into his blue eyes. Pearson almost glanced away from that look. He knew, suddenly, that this woman was very, very dangerous.
"Well, I should say it was a very pleasant evening until I was dragged here."
"That tends to happen when you butcher a man to death," Alveraz growled.
Pearson almost sighed. Most perps thought that Alveraz liked to play the role of bad cop during interrogations. They quickly came to learn that Detective Alveraz simply didn't play games.
"I did?" the woman asked, her eyebrows arched in surprise. "That's news to me."
Alveraz opened his mouth angrily but Pearson grabbed his arm and shook his head. He stared steadily at the woman. "Let's keep things simple. What's your name?"
She chuckled. "I take it my fingerprints didn't show up on your system? My face on the security camera not showing up on any databases? But let's keep things friendly for now, shall we? You can call me Elizabeth."
"Alright, Elizabeth," Pearson said quickly, as Alveraz once again looked on the verge of going off on the woman. "Are you aware that several eyewitnesses saw a woman matching your description chase a man down the street, tackle him, and then decapitate him with a machete?"
"Is that why I'm here?" she said, waving her hand casually. "Don't worry about that; it was nothing."
"Nothing?" Alveraz shouted. He stood up, put his fists on the table, and leaned in toward her. "The man also showed signs of severe torture! Several areas of his body were covered in third-degree burns. Do you consider that 'nothing' as well?"
He opened his folder and slammed picture after picture down in front of her. Each one showed different angles of a badly burned, decapitated corpse.
Pearson couldn't help but admire the woman, Elizabeth, as she ignored the pictures and stared calmly up at the enraged face of Alveraz. "I'm sorry, but is that a crime?" she asked innocently, glancing over at Pearson.
Pearson frowned at her, not quite understanding what game she was playing. Was she just simply nuts? "The torture and murder of another human being are indeed crimes."
"Ah," she said, raising a finger as though she had just won a point. "So you agree that the law clearly states that it's illegal to murder another
human being?
"
Pearson shared a brief glance with his partner. Why had she emphasized human being? "Yes," he said slowly. The interrogation was quickly getting out of hand. Who was this woman?
Elizabeth smirked at him. "Then I'm not guilty of a crime. I didn't kill or torture a
human being.
" She jabbed her finger down on a photo for emphasis.
"The body down in the morgue might say differently," Alveraz growled. He leaned in even closer, his face barely inches away from hers. "Or are you just trying to establish an insanity defense? Because the way I see it,
Elizabeth,
you're just one cold bitch."
"Alveraz," Pearson said warningly. Alveraz stared at Elizabeth for a few more heartbeats before sitting back down with a huff. Pearson looked back at Elizabeth. "My partner's right; the body down in the morgue is indeed human, I'm afraid. So it was illegal to kill him, you see?"
Elizabeth put her arms on the table and leaned toward him. Her intense stare held him in place. "Are you sure? You might want to wait for your medical examiner's report before making a statement like that."
"What do--"
"It doesn't matter, no report will ever be written," she sighed, cutting him off. She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "What time is it?"
"We're asking the questions here!" Alveraz said, his jaw locked tight. He was very close to exploding, Pearson knew.
"It's 11:38 p.m.," Pearson said, glancing at his watch. "Do you have somewhere to be?" he asked rhetorically.
"Damn, he's late," she muttered, apparently to herself. She looked up at Pearson. "Any minute now, your medical examiner will be visited by somebody much higher up the food chain than anybody here. The minute after that, this person will pay a visit to your Captain. And then your Captain will come in here and tell you that your services are no longer required."
"Oh great," Alveraz said, rolling his eyes. "Looks like we got another nut-bag who thinks they're a government spook. Listen lady, it's late and I don't want to waste another minute talking to a nut-bag. So do us a favor and ask for a lawyer already."
Pearson remained silent and studied Elizabeth intently. She certainly seemed confident when she spoke. He hadn't detected any tell-tale signs that she was lying. This woman was an enigma wrapped inside another enigma.
"You'll have to forgive my partner, Elizabeth. We hear that all the time. Usually it's just a perp who wants to waste our time by acting like a smartass. But you're not wasting our time, are you?"
Alveraz snorted. "Come on, Pearson, do you really believe--"
A knock on the door cut him off. Captain Anderson stuck his head into the room. "This interview is done, gentleman. The lady is free to leave."
"About time," Elizabeth muttered as she stood up.
"But Captain!" Alveraz started. He fell silent as the Captain raised his hand.
"I don't want to hear it, Alveraz. The order came from up high. It's out of our hands."
The door swung fully open as the captain strode away. A very serious looking man in a black suit was standing across from the door. Elizabeth stopped by the door and looked back at Pearson. She smiled teasingly and walked away with the man in the black suit.
"Can you believe that shit?" Alveraz said, punching the wall. "How can they just let a murderer walk free? Who the hell was she?"
Pearson shook his head. There was something odd going on. Since when did the government rescue an agent who had brutally tortured and decapitated another person? Was the victim a terrorist or something? Was she in the CIA?
"Damn, she was beautiful," he whispered to himself. The image of her teasing smile refused to fade from his mind. Who the hell was that woman?
***
"You were sloppy, Gabrielle," Roberts whispered as they walked out of the police station.
Gabrielle didn't respond until they were safely in Roberts' black SUV. She buckled her seatbelt and let out a frustrated sigh. "That damn vamp was crafty as hell. I never thought a vamp could escape the bonds I used."
Roberts stayed silent for several minutes. Gabrielle admired his control; she knew he longed to give her a verbal lashing. "None of this was necessary," he said finally, teeth gritted. "You know I'm sympathetic about your search for your mother's killer, but if you continue to torture vampires for information instead of just killing them..."
"What?" she asked angrily. "Are you going to revoke my field status? Make me push papers?"
He shook his head. "No, if we did that then you would simply hunt vampires on your own. That would only put us more at risk, which is why we recruited you in the first place. This way, we can keep an eye on you."
"Then what?" She felt her temper give way slowly to fear. Roberts was looking uncharacteristically serious.
"We would be forced to classify you as a rogue agent," he said reluctantly.
"You would put a death sentence of my head?" she gasped.
"
I
wouldn't," he growled angrily. "Why can't you just follow the rules? The vampire that killed your mother is probably dead by now, anyways."
Gabrielle folded her arms in an attempt to reign in her temper. She wanted nothing more than to smash her fists into something. How dare he talk about her mother like this? "I'm done talking about this," she huffed.
Roberts was wise enough to hold his tongue. He drove on in silence until he pulled up next to her apartment building. He put the car in park and turned toward her.
"Listen, Gabrielle, I'm not only your boss but also you're partner. I have your back, you know that. Just...try to follow the rules from now on, ok? We don't mind you conducting your search for the vampire that killed your mother, as long as you abide by our rules."
Gabrielle opened the door and got out. She leaned in through the open window. "Yeah, I know," she sighed. "I don't want to get you in trouble."
"Thanks," Roberts replied, a relieved smile spreading across his face. He looked much better when he smiled, Gabrielle thought. His dark brown eyes seemed to shine when he did.
