Who: Lei Campbell, Carver Ellington, Det. Brady (NPC) What: Lei is taken in for questioning regarding the missing dog Where: Destiny Falls PD When: Wednesday evening Rating: PG-13 for pretty colorful language Status: Complete
Carver’s stomach was somewhere near his throat as he stood in the elevator, not the same one he’d stood in a week ago in preparation of saving Lei before she could walk into the pit, but with the same feeling of anxious foreboding eating at his insides. Lei was being called into question concerning the dog that had gone missing, and it was dumb. Every member of security personnel knew what had really happened to the dog, but no one was saying anything. No one could say anything. Not even him.
So here he was, on his way to snag his friend’s little sister from her apartment and feed her to the sharks just to keep that hag Richards from making too much of a fuss. It had been a direct order from Astor himself, but thankfully the old bastard was keeping himself quiet tonight. Carver was too far inside his own mind as it was. Then again, having Carver sent to retrieve her out of the many people that could’ve done it - her own brother included - was statement enough.
He tried to think of how to tell Lei what to expect without letting the old man in on it. She was innocent and he knew she had no more reason to steal an old, persnickity, yippy dog then he had to walk around all day in stiletto heels, but whatever. She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and all there was left to do was damage control.
When he was at her door he pulled out his phone instead of knocking, texting that he was there.
It’d been crazy lately, with the weather and the heat and the blackout: one might think a place as fucking fancy as Astor would be immune to things of that nature, but being on the receiving end of such events was probably more of an eye-opener for the people in the higher apartments than Lei. She wasn’t a stranger to horrible weather or really, really bad timing. Growing up in blue-collar Boston had that effect.
So, despite being annoyed at having to buy a space heater to keep Chip (and herself) from freezing from Saturday to Sunday, the spindly maid wasn’t too worse for wear. She was bellied up to the tiny counter by her kitchen sink, washing the dinner dishes when the front pocket of her jeans started to vibrate. One paper-towel crumpled on the counter later, she plucked the smartphone from it’s place on her hip and checked the screen... then checked it again. Then looked over her shoulder at her front door.
The smile on her face was a little lopsided when she opened it, pushing her hair out of her face (which seemed to be a habit of hers, whenever she first saw Carver). He wasn’t the last person she expected at her door, but the surprise was easily written on her face. It evaporated quickly, however, when she saw the look on his.
“What’s wrong?” Lei signed and spoke, a courtesy to Carver, more than anything else.
His mouth thinned despite himself and he nodded at her. “Got get a coat and some shoes, Lei,” he said softly, attempting to keep it to the point. His mind raced with ways to get her out of this and ended up at nothing each and every time. She was new, she was convenient, and if they really decided to go ahead and pin this on her, that would be that.
Fuck, he hated this fucking place.
“Mrs. Richards dog came up missing,” he continued. “Earlier, when you were in her apartment cleanin’. She made ‘em call the cops and they just wanna talk to ya, now. Just tell ‘em the truth. I know ya didn’t take the fuckin’ dog, but ya know how these types can be.”
Wait... what?
Get your shoes... Lei processed that pretty easy, even if it was a little cryptic, but the more Carver delved into the explanation as to why she was apparently leaving her apartment went so far beyond ludicrous that... well--Lei’s face went from worried, to confused, to pretty obviously angry. Not at him, of course. He was, unfortunately, closest to the outlash.
“Wait... her dog went missing, and they want to talk to me about it?” Lei didn’t even sign that, and she put a pretty remarkable amount of emphasis on the word ‘me’ for someone who couldn’t hear it. The vibrations in her throat felt sandy and harsh as she left the door open with Carver standing beneath the jamb, as what he said started to really sink in.
They were accusing her. Maybe not officially, but already, her mind was centered squarely on her job--and how it now seemed to balance precariously on a knife’s edge.
The anger was gone, replaced by a very prominent worry line over her brows--they pushed up high in the middle, pleading with her brother’s friend by expression alone. “But... you told them that, right?” The fact that he was there answered her own question. Lei was starting to feel her left-over fried chicken start to turn in her stomach.
“Course I told them,” Carver said gently, and he had. Fat lot of good it had done, though. He sighed deeply, the look on her face turning his stomach as he put his hands in his pockets. “Just tell ‘em the truth, Lei. Think real hard about anything you would’ve seen when you were in the apartment. Was the dog there when you were?”
The only evidence they had against her was video footage of her and only her entering and leaving the apartment while Richards was gone. Of course, when she left there obviously wasn’t a dog with her, but there were all sorts of theories they could concoct from that bit. Carver felt sick and uneasy, but he nodded at her again. “C’mon. I’ll help ya get your things.”
Lei was getting flustered, and she was nervous. This was not a good combination for someone who was trying to sort things out in her head, and was reliant on piecing together the movement of someone else’s lips in order to communicate. Despite Carver’s effort, her nervous habit of putting a hand on her brow and pacing around the studio apartment (presumably looking for her things) made his sentences only half-understood.
Truth. In the apartment. When you were. These were the abridged bits of statements the Deaf girl was able to catch, all of which left unanswered--and the mounting tension, confusion, and nervousness started to weave uncomfortable wire in her muscles, making it surprisingly difficult to lace her tennis shoes.
“Are you going with me?” She looked up from the curtain of sleek, dark hair falling from behind her ears; a bit of unhidden desperation glinted in equally dark eyes, focused on his lips.
His lips thinned as he thought about that. “I can try,” he said honestly, and he would. It would’ve helped if he’d known sign language, as he could’ve volunteered himself to go along as an interpreter, but he didn’t.
Christ.
“We’ll figure somethin’ out,” he tried to assure her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Ya didn’t do anything, Lei. It’ll be okay.”
It occurred to him that he was quite possibly lying to her and his stomach heaved again, but he stood still and kept his face schooled.
-*-
Lei had never been so uncomfortable in her entire life--or at least, in recent memory. It was difficult to concentrate on a time where she felt more wrongly singled out, even though it was a regular occurrence when she was a child. Whether it be from being the only Asian kid at her suburban school or after the accident (and before she’d learned to sign), Lei Campbell had at one time, been very used to being looked at with a form of suspicion. But that was years ago.
This, here, was the same feeling, sitting in a cold metal and cheap cushioned chair at the end of a table that was bolted to the floor. She had only been inside a police department once in her adult life, and that was to bail out her brother after a particularly rowdy Fourth of July party two years ago. The interrogation room looked just like they did on TV, and it was cold.
That’s what she figured this place was, anyway. Since arriving here, no one told her (or even attempted to tell her) anything. Just put her in a room to wait.
There was no clock on the wall to tell how long she’d been sitting there, alone, occasionally looking at her own ghost-like reflection in the big one-sided window across from her, and they had taken her phone ‘for security purposes’. Thin fingertips drummed on the table top, on her lap, and anywhere else Lei put them, to keep warm and to filter excess nervous energy.
Where is Jake... played constantly on loop in her head. The thought abruptly vanished when she caught a sliver of hallway light slice through the door on the opposite wall: her eyes wide, dark and hopeful... until she realized the shape coming through it was far too tall to match that of her adoptive brother. Lei shifted uncomfortably, scraping the back of her shoulder blades against the chair, watching the looming figure in rolled sleeves in very much the same manner he was watching her.
Suspicion.
All over a goddamned dog that she never even touched.
Officer Alec Brady didn't much give a damn about any goddamn dog, nor anything else that went on in that big, hoity toity building on the edge of the edge of town, but fuck it. It was what he got paid for, right? And if that rich bastard wanted to paint the sky red to keep some old hag satisfied concerning her yipping mutt, that didn't mean shit to Brady either. Unless, of course, the rich old bastard was paying for it.
In this case, he definitely was.
He walked into the interrogation room and slammed the door a little harder than usual, watching as the meek looking girl didn't react in any visible way. Well, wasn't that somethin'! The fellas that had brought her in were telling the truth, joking about handcuffing her and listening to her squawk about God knew what when she couldn't use her hands to flit about whatever. Like anyone even understood that shit.
He never had to interrogate a mute before, so that should be nice and fuckin' frustrating. He had no patience for special needs and had expressed that to the captain, but he'd been told if he spoke real slow and made sure to pronounce his words the little girl should be able to communicate with him somehow. Just peachy goddamn keen.
He knelt on the floor in front of her, falling to a squat and giving her a tight smile that was all necessity and no emotion. "We'll...Keep... This... Easy. Where... Is... The... Dog?"
He found himself speaking louder in addition to slower and longer, not that the silly girl would be able to hear him, but it made himself feel better. At least made him feel more productive.
Oh, wasn’t he the icing on the cake. The nerves that’d been worn raw and red from the stress of her confusing situation were still very much electric, buzzing a bit in her fingertips (which is why they wouldn’t stop fucking moving) up to the point where she was apparently visited by the Zeus of all TV cops.
Now they were blaring, and continued to crank the vice in her chest tighter and tighter the closer he got, to the point where Lei’s already narrow gaze slitted even further when he crouched beside her--like she was a six year old about to be scolded. Nevertheless, the man was huge... She did back up a bit in her chair, mainly on instinct. Also because of his extremely potent coffee breath.
She automatically watched his lips when he spoke, and--oh-goody, now she had this to deal with. Obviously they weren’t letting Jake or even Carver in with her, so two choices were at hand: stay quiet until they allowed someone in to interpret, or bite the bullet of her self-consciousness and nerves and actually try to communicate with the asshole.
“I’m Deaf, not retarded.” She manipulated her voice as best she could, remembering the vibration and forming of words actually quite well: the timbre was only a little off-kilter, unnoticeable to most people who weren’t listening for it. Her answer sufficed for both things she wanted to address, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate the vagueness.
Despite her really really wanting to look away from him, communication required that she keep her eyes on his face, and that’s what she did. “I have no idea where the dog is.”
Officer Brady stood immediately, turning to the camera where he knew his superiors were watching and throwing his hands up.
"Is this broad for real?" he said, though of course no one was going to answer him. The captain couldn't talk through the camera lens and Hellen Keller over there couldn't understand shit (despite her staunch muffly-voice insistence that she WASN'T RETARDED) if he didn't tap it out in Morse Code and let her feel the vibrations.
"Bullshit," he said simply when he turned around to look at her. "We've got you on video. You were the only one in and the only one out. If you didn't take the dog, who did? Did angels float down from the sky and ignore you and your condition to sneak out with some old lady's goddamn pooch? I don't think so."
He tugged out the chair and sat back down. "So. Aside from where, we need to know why. What, did you need some meat for the chow mein?"
Lei’s brows pushed down fervently, creasing the fair and slightly freckled skin across her nose: a very expressive scrunched up look of pure distaste aimed at the cop. Was he fucking kidding? Honestly, how were people this racist still, in modern America? Of course, Lei knew exactly how racist people could be, but that was back when she was a child... and children could be cruel. It was pretty much in their little nature sometimes.
This guy was no child, but he seemed to be trying his best to be fucking cruel.
Too bad assholes didn’t hurt her feelings. She was intimidated, sure... but the anger he so expertly planted stuck like heat behind her ribs. “Course I’m on camera. I bet I’m on camera doing the next room too... and the next. You see a dog anywhere in those tapes?” God, it was really hard not to revisit the chow-mein remark. Or give him a sign he would definitely recognize. Lei’s little hands were curled into tight fists on the cold aluminum table.
“I went in. I did my job, and I left,” Lei informed her interrogator with a little more emphasis than was probably needed, then canted her head at him--her hair slid from it’s place at her shoulder and reached for her lap--her dark eyes rather sharp with the frayed nerves of the night, and the challenge his prodding was building in her gut. “Am I under arrest? ‘Cause I’m sure a lawyer would love to hear about this conversation. If I’m not, let me go home.”
That amused him, visibly so, and it showed in the crinkles of his eyes. “Oh is that right?” he asked, his head tilting. “Do ya think so? An’ how are ya gonna call a lawyer, dragon lady? Smoke signals?”
He took a deep breath, and placed his hand flat on the table in front of her. “Listen, this is what we know. The dog is visible in the camera when the old lady leaves. No one goes in there but you. So. Was the dog in there when you were in there? And if ya didn’t do anything with it, did ya see any magic men levitating on the ceiling? I assume your vision is fine.”
Gee, this was getting fun. Lei was pretty sure she’d rather be pulling a double in the pool shower rooms after a frat party than tolerate this asshole any longer. But, apparently being Asian and disabled qualified to have her human rights methodically stripped away, and her scowl did that thought justice.
“First, if you’re going to insult me, get your stereotypes fuckin’ straight.” Smoke signals... Jesus Christ, where the fuck was Jacob? Or Carver... was he here?
Lei went on, holding up a very rigid two fingers, as if that might ‘help’ this jackass get the point. “Second, she always keeps her dog behind the baby-gate in the laundry room. I’ve only seen it a few times, but she doesn’t want me in there--so I don’t go in there.”
Officer Brady’s brow furrowed like he was thinking real hard as she spoke, a slight crinkle of his nose showing his distaste with her, her answer, and this whole fucking situation.
“Christ. Can I get an interpreter in here?” he asked, leaning back in the chair to the point that it rocked back on two legs, knowing whoever was watching the interrogation could hear him. He should’ve expected this. Not only was the broad deaf, but English probably wasn’t even her first language. He didn’t have the time, nor the patience, for a goddamn Long Duck Dong that couldn’t remember to put a fucking hearing aid in. Christ. Didn’t they keep people like her in homes or something?! “Oh, would ya prefer I get ya some paper then? Maybe ya could fold yourself up a little swan with a message to float along down the river and see if ya can find a lawyer willing to take on the woman accusing you for social security pension or whatever the fuck it is you cripples live on.”
On the other side of the glass Carver’s freckled face was bright, tomato red, his hands bunched at his sides as he turned and demanded, again, that they get Lei the fuck out of there. He had been permitted to go along but they hadn’t let him in the interrogation room. Instead they’d designated him to this fucking box with some motherfucker that was just as smarmy looking as the psycho currently holding Lei.
“He ain’t got no right talkin’ to her like that,” Carver half shouted. “Ya don’t talk to anyone like that, especially not a goddamn lady! She ain’t done anythin’!”
The man looked - well, bored. Bored and smug. It was the same expression Carver had seen on the man’s face each and every time he’d come to Astor to handle - something. It occurred to him that when there was something nefarious going on, as in - when there was someone needing to be blamed for something or something covered up - it was one or both of these assholes that showed up to stamp the papers.
Fuck.
But he also knew Lei had made a point - she wasn’t under arrest so they could only keep her for so long. He felt sick and helpless, standing there watching her be berated like that, but not knowing what else to do.
Okay. That was it. Lei was done.
Her gaze had already been dark and even, but now it rivaled volcanic glass. She’d been on the receiving end of some pretty harsh insults before, but this monumental prick was doing his best to top the list.
She lifted her chin, sharp and proud as the fear-tainted fury in her eyes. “Yeah, I’d love a piece of paper right about now.” Not much besides a very intense beat of silence followed before Brady shoved the legal pad and pen in front of her--Lei immediately scooped it up and started grinding a few choice words on the pad.
Arrest me and get me a lawyer. Or let me go. Then go FUCK yourself.
Silent and intent to be so for the remainder of her time with him (however long it would be), Lei shoved the paper in the detective’s direction, and folded her arms.
Brady rolled his eyes, ripping off the piece of paper and holding it up in front of the camera to be submitted into evidence. It could be filed away as a hostile response to questioning which could help, depending upon what the old man wanted to do with her.
“You sure are mouthy for a deaf broad,” he said with a shake of his head, standing and turning toward the camera with an expression that clearly said Can I be done now?
He’d had enough of being nice and patient with the crippled broad, and he was ready for a goddamn break.
Inside the room, the other man also stood. “Wait here. We’ll have your girlfriend in a minute,” he said casually to Carver, then strode out, shutting the door behind him.
Lei tracked the asshole with all the intensity of a sniper-scope, biting back the spiny knot of nerves in her stomach with the anger he had inspired rather well. It gave her something solid to focus on--something concrete that she knew how to handle. Completely opposite to what some people might glean from her physical appearance, the little adopted China doll from Boston was not especially delicate. Not with the dock-worker example of her father, the snark of her mother, and the tornado temper of her brother to guide her.
But as soon as the focus of her anger slammed the interrogation room door behind him, the nervousness flared up with a vengeance, and she felt as if she hadn’t been breathing for an hour.
Lei exhaled, shaky and wan, and propped her head against the table in both hands: her eyes curtained by her hair. A nervous bounce twitched in her right leg... and for the first time in many years, her world of silence was actually deafening.
The minutes stretched on for what seemed like hours as Carver paced in the observation room, separated only by a thin wall of glass but feeling more like a few thousand miles. He felt - ashamed. Always ashamed. How was he supposed to look Lei in the eye again? Or Jake? He knew what was happening here, and he was helpless to stop it. Anything he did would be refuted and he or his mother would pay the consequences, and that wasn’t even on a guarantee that Lei would get out of all of this.
It was a knot of tension in his stomach - always in his stomach - that felt like pure acid. He could feel it eating through the walls of his insides, dripping into his soul, warping him. He had wondered if his deal with Astor would change him, but he saw the proof of it already.
He was no longer a good man or a good friend. He could say that he was a good son, but what would his mother think if she knew what he was doing?
When they came to get him it was with Lei’s papers, and he was advised to ‘keep her in town’ for a while. He nodded, not meeting anyone’s gaze as they went to retrieve Lei. There were two sides to this story, and he was playing for both of them. There was no possible way it could ever end well.
Lei finally felt like she was able to breathe again when she sensed the door opened again, and Carver followed the unfamiliar man who had unlocked it. Her eyes darted from his to the stranger, then back--quite vivid in their searching and desperation.
“Can I go home?” She asked with her voice as well as her hands, aimed directly at Carver. Occasionally she’d search behind his shoulder, looking for her brother. Of course, after what had just happened, she knew Jake couldn’t be anywhere nearby. He’d have torn the place down to get to the son of a bitch she was locked in with if he had heard what she had seen.
Carver nodded his head once, curtly, jaw firmed as he took her elbow and helped her up and out of the chair. He wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders, refusing to meet the steady gaze of Officer Brady as he led Lei out of the room and into the bustle of the hallway. He didn’t inquire as to how she was just yet, aware they were being trailed by the officers all the way to the door and not feeling like he could stop to make her look at him and therefore understand what he was saying.
Lei totally did not mind the arm around her shoulders, or the silence. The weight of Carver’s arm, even if it was temporary, felt like the shield she so sorely wanted over the last--Christ, how long had she been in there?
Lei had curled into him, almost by gravity, and by the time the winter air blasted them both from the stuffy coffee and sweat smell of the Police Department, the tense quiver beneath her skin had slowly dissolved, leaving her shaken, confused, and hollow.
He took her to his truck, walking around to open the door for her and helping her inside before walking back around, hands in his pockets and head down against the cold, climbing in himself.
“Are you okay?” He asked, taking her shoulders gently in his hands and turning her to look at him so they could talk. “They didn’t hurt you, right?”
She looked frazzled, but the wild-eye look she had used to stare down that prick of a detective was gone, replaced by worry and weariness. Her ivory face dripped in shadow, tightened up a bit, but she shook her head and swallowed the rock in her throat. No, they didn’t touch her, but no--she wasn’t alright. Not at all.
“Why would they do this?” She said finally, mixing lingering anger with the strain. Her fingers fought with themselves to sign as she manipulated her voice, remembering it as unnecessary with him, and it even sometimes got in the way.
“I don’t know,” he said softly, and at least that much was the truth. He smoothed his hand over her hair and gave her a very tight smile, even though it did or would do little to reassure her. He wasn’t sure what to say or how to fix any of it. “We just have to ride this out,” he finally said. “You didn’t do anything. It’ll be fine.”
Lies. Or at least, potential lies. He didn’t know that it would be fine. He didn’t know anything, other than this would go exactly the way the old man had it planned and there wasn’t anything anyone could do. Not him, not her, and not anyone else.
Carver putting the fact that she didn’t do anything into words, making them solid besides coming from her did take a little weight from her chest. So did the gentle gesture of comfort that uselessly disturbed her hair, since it fell right back in place. Lei’s lips were tight, then pursed even tighter as she grappled with the idea. It’ll be fine. Just ride it out. You didn’t do anything.
“I told a cop to go fuck himself.” She said in a shaky, slightly muddled voice, unsure on whether to be proud or terrified.
Carver blinked, then blinked again, his face splitting open into a startled smile as he huffed a bark of rough laughter. “Ya did what?!” He laughed harder, then leaned in and gave her a very chaste kiss on her forehead. “Sheeeit. Ain’t nothin’ less then he deserved, huh?”
His laugh automatically brought out hers: natural and clear, it lacked the subtle distortion of her voice because there was no thought or effort involved. It didn’t last long, since her breath decided to seize up when he leaned in, muted by the surprise kiss. Lei’s blood pressure spiked for a moment, but it evened out when her concentration split, trying to decipher his goddamned accent.
Lei wasn’t exactly sure why he said ‘sheet’, but at least she caught the rest of it... shaking her head a bit in exasperation. “I didn’t know they still made pricks that big.”
“Well, that’s cuz you’re a nice girl,” he told her, giving her a lopsided grin and patting her hand. “Ya ain’t supposed to know anything about big pricks. Your brother wouldn’t have any of it.” He squeezed her hand again and looked straight ahead for a moment as he started his truck, turning the defrost on the front windshield before looking back at her again. “Are ya hungry? Do ya want something to drink? I could swing ya through somewhere, or we could stop.”
God, Jake. Lei pushed a sigh through parted lips and put her hand on her brow. Carver must not have gotten ahold of him, or else there would’ve been a hell of a lot more trouble than they were already dealing with. She drove that hand through her hair and looked back at her brother’s friend--her friend (regardless of the little flashes of warmth that occasionally came with his looks).
“Honestly, I really need a beer.”
He nodded after a moment, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He could use a beer himself, come to think of it. Maybe two or three. While he was making that list, a lobotomy would be nice. Maybe a brain transplant.
At the very least, a new goddamn job.
“Where’d ya like to go?” He asked her. “Do you want a bar or just to go home? I’ve got some beer in my place.”
“Best that way...” She replied with a bit more breath in the delicately muddled speech. One beer was not going to do it. “That way I can walk home and not freeze to death.”