If Only She Knew

7. The Crash

Two years ago, London...

Arrived at the police section, Mike's investigation team settled on the couches inside the viewing room. They had a perfect view into the interrogation room where the witnesses and victim's acquaintances will be asked questions, one by one.

"Who's going in to interrogate first?" Mike asked, standing up.

He paced around the room with his domineering attitude which, in Ariana's opinion, wasn't at all convincing.

"Come on, break the ice!" he added, eyeing everyone like prey. Ariana rolled her eyes.

"I can't believe we're finally doing something real." She was laughing. Carla's hand shot up suddenly as she wanted to volunteer, but to the leader it was as if she didn't exist. He only paid attention to another, certain blonde.

"Why don't you go, Miss Ariana?" Mike rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger.

Ariana didn't mind interrogating at all. She couldn't wait to jump in herself, but she knew to play at Mike's game, too.

"Why don't you go yourself, Sir?" she smiled.

"You go. Go, or I'm making you do desk work for another month," Mike flipped his hand.

Ariana jumped from the couch, grabbing her leather bag in the action. She learned that only reverse psychology works with Michael.

"Oh, I would be more than pleased to oblige, Sir," she stomped out of the room, her blond hair cascading behind her.

On the other side, she sat on one of the chairs, while on the inside of her mind she was a tad nervous about her first job interrogation.

And it was the fact that it was a victim's acquaintance or a random witness that made her nervous, because they were innocent and she had to handle herself.

There would be tears and there would be varied emotions.

She had once witnessed her own mother being shot...

If she were interrogating a guilty criminal, oh, she felt she could truly be rough.

The first person they brought in was Sammy's friend, Ann, who had been there at the concert with her that night.

The brown haired girl walked lackadaisical and took a seat. Her eyes were swollen, red, there were dark circles and she looked as though most of her gaiety and liveliness had left her face.

When she sat on the chair across from Ariana, it was like she had just let her numb body fall down in it. Since she was 18, she had come in unaccompanied.

"Hello, how are you?" Ariana started, gently. She knew her question was irrelevant because it was obvious the girl was very upset, but how could she not ask that?

The girl whimpered.

"Well, my best friend suddenly disappears while worrying about her boyfriend, while her boyfriend is alright and grieving now, how do you think I am doing?" Ann talked sarcastically, forgetting to keep her tone in check.

But Ariana understood her. The girl was hurt. She cared about her friend.

She wanted to reach across and hold her hand.

"What is your name?" Ariana asked while leafing through some papers.

Behind the one way window some of the others were probably listening too but Ariana still had to fill out a form for witness evidence.

"Ann Linton," she said; her tone was bleak.

Ariana scribbled the name.

"Okay. Do you mind telling me your age, where you're from, what school you're enrolled in?" Ariana tried to be as casual and gentle as possible.