24. Good Cop, Bad Cop?

“ N o,” Scarlett drawled, making sure the single word held the full weight of her boredom.

The policeman tried again. “Well, then?—”

“No.”

“Okay, but?—”

“No,” she repeated, her eyes narrowing.

The officer cleared his throat and pulled at his tie. “Ma’am, I haven’t even asked?—”

“No,” Scarlett said firmly.

The human swallowed hard, a bead of sweat dripping down his brow. “I…” He trailed off.

“Good, you’re learning. This is all I will say before demanding for my lawyer. We saw nothing, did nothing, and are as surprised by the incident as you are.”

“Yes, but…”

“No.”

The man sighed. “Lawyer?”

She plastered a fake sweet smile on her face. “Yes.”

“Lawyer,” Min-ji said the minute she sat down in the hard metal chair.

The female officer frowned. “Ma’am, you aren’t involved in the majority of what has happened. You’ve been brought in for questioning, but you and your associates are not under arrest. We are just here to ask you a few questions about what you saw.”

“Ah, you’ve mistaken me for someone young and stupid,” she chuckled, flicking her hair back. “I am neither. But as you’ve stated that I’m not under arrest, can I assume that I am free to go?”

“No…”

She rolled her eyes. “Either you let me call my attorney, where, on their arrival, I will consider answering your questions, or we can sit here for hours in silence, and I will then consider my next legal course of action, after you denied me my right to legal counsel.”

Theo cocked his head when he heard the door open. Sprinkle remained in his lap, seeming to be confused as to why they were there.

At least the man dying in front of her hadn’t seemed to bother the kitten… Though, she had been trying to do something involving the body… The others hadn’t clarified to him what exactly she’d been doing. Something for him to ask about later.

Theo grimaced when the human, who he assumed was an officer, pulled out a chair, letting the metal legs scrape loudly against the floor.

“Theo Laurent, correct?” a masculine presenting voice asked.

“Yes?”

Though, maybe it was time to change his last name to one not connected to the violent, bigoted, murderous bastard who had destroyed his world and happiness.

“I’m Detective Bruster.”

He heard movement, and his best guess was that the human was reaching out to shake his hand. Theo just wasn’t…exactly sure why. Handshakes were definitely one of the things that even his enhanced senses couldn’t help him with, and generally only worked if he was the one reaching out first.

Raising his brow, he remained facing Detective Bruster, saying nothing.

The human cleared his throat, and the sound of movement repeated, as the man likely pulled his hand back. “Right. So, I’ll get straight to the point. What did you see?”

Theo laughed in disbelief. “Nothing.”

Detective Bruster clucked his tongue. “Look, kid, just tell me what you saw, and you will be free to go on your way? Why be difficult?”

Breathing in deeply, he tasted the man’s scent. He was in his early fifties, at least… Theo…supposed he could look past him thinking he was a kid, especially with his current hairstyle…if they’d been conducting this interview on the streets somewhere. But they weren’t.

Such incompetence was laughable when they were in a police station, with all of his fake information at their fingertips—including his fake age of thirty-seven, even though he was well over two hundred. He did question no one telling the man about his blindness before coming in here…

“Sir, I’m in my late thirties,” he lied. “And I wasn’t being difficult. I was answering truthfully. I have zero light perception. I literally saw nothing.”

He rolled his eyes as he heard laughter coming from the direction of what must be the two-way mirror. Oh, I so do love my medical condition being mocked, and used to make an ass out of other people , he thought with disgust.

With his arms crossed and his fists clenched, Turney said, for the fifth time, “We don’t know, and we didn’t do anything.”

“While you keep saying that, it doesn’t change the fact that things are not adding up, Mr. Pimms,” Detective Banks said slowly.

“Which is your problem to figure out,” Turney snapped. “As we have no idea what is going on.”

Beyond that someone was probably trying to kill Octavius. Not that the vampire seemed keen on taking it seriously, or admitting it.

He took a deep breath as the detective’s eyes narrowed. Hell…he needed to calm down. Snapping was not going to lead to anything good, beside possibly being arrested. And as he knew for a fact that his fingerprints would not show up…that would be a bad thing, he assumed.

But it was hard to stop himself. Turney was tired of sitting here, and he had instantly felt…defensive and twitchy the moment he stepped foot in the police station. Though, he’d started feeling irritated when they’d politely suggested they all come in for questioning, while hinting that they’d be brought in handcuffs if they didn’t.

Which…legally…they could be held for seventy-two hours without charges, but… Turney found it highly doubtful they would have probable cause to arrest them. Being nearby when people die, does not mean you are responsible, especially when there was no logical way for any of them to have carried out the probable murders. Not that last one, that’s for sure. Which is likely why they’d just threatened to arrest them, instead of actually doing it.

Either way, he was irritated, nervous, and stressed, due to his whole criminal past…

He’d never been caught, but the paranoid part of him that he always tried to stomp down kept screaming, “What if someone had video evidence of the races?!”. Because there were a lot of idiots who tried to sneakily film their street races, despite it being illegal.

“Why did you really come here, Mr. Pimms?”

Oh…the fates were really trying his patience… Officers and their need to repeat the same damn question over and over again. “I would like to call for an attorney now, thank you.”

He’d been in law school, but wasn’t stupid enough to try to be his own legal counsel. Well, he was…still in law school, technically, but on ‘medical’ leave. Ugh, a problem he’d maybe try to tackle when he got back. Octavius would only be held back on the subject for so long.

Anyway, while he may not have the same resources as the others…he did happen to know the name of an attorney who was currently working in the state.

“I really don’t know what you want me to tell you, Detective Robins,” Octavius said with a bright smile, his eyes flicking around the room again.

Dimly lit by a single hanging, shaded light on the ceiling, the interrogation room had a cement floor, and two-toned gray and green walls. The only furniture was the horrible metal chairs, and the solid metal table. It was all so…stereotypical movie interrogation room-like, and Octavius couldn’t help but feel excited!

It was like he was in a crime show! Hardened criminal faces an eager…young-ish, possibly middle-age-ish, detective, trying to catch his big break! Hehe, how fun!

Robins grimaced. “I want you to tell me the truth, Mr. Evander.”

“And, I have. As I explained, I am the Owner and Lead Detective at The Undead Detective Agency. My associates and I—respectfully, my boyfriend, and friends—have no clue why people keep dying near us. We came here on vacation, that is all.”

The human snorted. “They are more dying just near you.”

“That may be so, but we are here to relax, not murder people. And we had neither the time nor the knowledge to plot out any elaborate deaths, I’m afraid. We hadn’t even been in the state for longer than an hour when that poor, unfortunate waiter met his end.”

Ahh, he sounded so professional. Turney would be proud! Though, he wasn’t necessarily coming across like a criminal, he supposed… But…well, maybe he was?! There were professional criminals!

“Why exactly did you go to that particular restaurant two days ago?”

Octavius’ brow rose. “Has the answer not already been stated enough by this point?”

It had been two hours and…he was running out of inventive ways to answer, to be honest. The question was also not nearly as fun to answer now as it was the first few times.

“Just answer the question,” the detective growled.

Oh…was the man about to do a good cop, bad cop routine?!

“It was supposed to be a fun Ducktastic Murder Mystery Dining Theatre Extravaganza!” he huffed, pretending to be irritated. “Where else was I supposed to go for my first meal in Duckvilla? Some boring non-musical restaurant?!”

Robins’ eyes narrowed, the man flipping the pages back in his small notebook. “You say meal, but you only ordered drinks.”

“Milkshakes,” Octavius corrected.

“The waiter made a note that the meal was to be given to your work partner?—”

“Boyfriend.”

His smile widened as he heard what he thought was teeth grinding.

The detective took a deep breath, and let it out. “Your meal was to be given to your boyfriend. So how can you claim you went there to eat, when you didn’t even order solid food?!”

With his eyes narrowing, he accused, “You didn’t read my file.”

The man jerked back in his seat, straightening up. “What?”

“YOU DIDN’T READ MY FILE!” he cried out dramatically as he stood up and pointed.

“SIT DOWN!” Robins growled, banging on the table!

OHHH, WAS THIS IT?! ‘GOOD COP, BAD COP’!?!?!

Octavius crossed his arms with a hmph, and turned away, snapping with fake anger, “Not. Until. You. Apologize!”

“Sit down!” the human growled, rising to his feet.

“NO! You admit this instant that you haven’t read my file!”

“I read your file!”

“LIAR! Because if you read my file, you would know that I’m on a liquid diet due to a medical condition!”

Not that…it would be in any of the files that the police would have access to without a warrant. Nor would any of the other fake medical conditions he’d made up to explain away the fact that he was undead, and a vampire.

At most, the police had access to the various government registrations he’d filled out. His driver’s license…that had expired… Maybe his insurance… They perhaps had taken a few looks at his business ventures, if they’d gotten that far. But it was a criminal’s job to confuse the police! And like…the confusion was deserved! How dare Robins bring up solid food?!

Solid food… Any solid food he tried to consume would crumble away, turning to ash in his mouth. Making the experience very unpleasant.

Oh…sweets… How he missed them… How he mourned the solid decadence of so many desserts that he would never in this life experience. All the ones he never had a chance to try… There were so many…as they simply didn’t exist when he’d been human… Brownies…smores…cheesecake…sweet…sweet milk chocolate…

No, Octavius was destined to only taste these flavors in liquid form… Destined to look but never touch! Destined?—

“MR. EVANDER!”

He blinked, slowly looking over at the human detective, who was still standing but was now only a step away from him. His brow raised as he asked, unperturbed, “Yes?”

Octavius tilted his head as Detective Robins’ left eye started to twitch, as did this odd vein in his forehead.

Interesting—his eyes narrowed on the vein. Though, he supposed, it was technically an artery…

The question was…was the enlargement and pulsing…normal…for humans? It’s not like it was the first time he’d seen it happen, but…Octavius had never thought to ask. Was the man doing it on purpose? Or was it…an involuntary action? Though, if it was on purpose, did that mean he could do so as well? Would he want to? Could he ask now?