Goosebumps form on her forearms from the cool metal of the interrogation table they handcuffed her to. Onika stared in mock innocence - having killed before - at the raging detective. "Where is Beyonce?" The detective screams, her spit specks landing on Onika's chin, as her hands come down hard on the steel table, sending vibrations through the criminal.
"Who?" Onika asked. Her eyes wandered around the small room before landing back on the detective. "I wish I could go outside, you know. Smell the trees n' shit. Or are they flowers?"
The private detective almost finds herself answering. Almost. She placed her hands on the table to try and help calm her but it doesn't seem to have any effect on her short temper.
I don't get paid enough for this shit, she thought.
"Stop playing mind games and tell me where she is."
Nicki's smirk betrayed her wide-eyed facade, "Are you okay? That vein in your forehead is throbbing. Is it that time of the month because if so there is a pill that can help. I think it's called prenatal- oh wait no." she gasped, truly confused.
"I think that's a vitamin for a baby. We were trying before.." her voice quiets as her attention is brought to her blinking bracelet. One stone glowed bright red.
"I knew it! I knew you knew her!" Mrs. Union exclaimed smartly.
"Well it's pretty obvious. Our face is on every newspaper and our names in every headline. You're not a genius. You and every cop in the United States knows I know her." Nicki murmurs and presses a red button on the back of it.
Gabrielle sits down and gives Onika a pointed look. "You could help yourself..." Nicki looked up, her gaze, full of curiosity. Gabrielle smiled, happy she finally had the teen's attention.
"Tell us names and locations. Account numbers. Who you work for. Your real name," she adds, "we know it's not Cin. Tell us where she is. How you met. Why does the government have no record of you being born? Help us help you. It could get you fewer years."
Nicki chuckles to herself watching the bracelet as it dims, "Don't give me that bullshit help us help you line. I'm nineteen, not twelve. You gave me life plus 65 years. What're ten years off the hoe?"
Gabrielle fixed her with an unreadable expression, "So you aren't talking?"
"I was never going to, but you knew that. Nice try."
Gabrielle continues to stare at her, her expression morphing into one of sadness. The things people do for love, she thought.
She sighs and stands up, grabbing her manila folder, "Well, you're staying here until you have something you want to share. How about telling us your actual name, Cin." She knocked on the table, her knuckles creating a rapping sound on the ore.
"How do you know that's not my real name?"
The detective paused at the door and chuckled, "Because anyone who was technically never born in the eyes of the government would never share their real name. And I hope your mother never named you that if that is your name," she laughed again. She twisted the handle and closed the door behind her, the lock sounded into place with a loud click.
Nicki thought to herself, "She seems good - only wants to do her job and rid the world of another criminal." Soon after, she thought, "Too bad she's going to die soon."
Two hours later Nicki still sat in a cold room. She hadn't eaten in nearly a day and was hungry as shit. "C'mon bitch," she mumbles, unlocking and locking the handcuffs around her wrists for fun.
