The Janus Library

Chapter 8, Parts 12-13

"DW: *visibly smitten over Rowan's voice* Well, it seems like you have nothing to do with this, so we should probably move on to questioning the next—

RC: Wait hold on, you said you put on headphones to drown out the loud music, right? Then how were you able to hear the screams right after that?" @kilarthmac on Instagram

ROWAN DELACROIX: *smiles* I suppose I misspoke. I saw Erica Rockefeller, our lovely optician, running from the back offices, and it *looked* like she was screaming. I took off my headphones then, and actually heard them. My florist's station *is* just outside the offices, after all.

DAPHNE WINOGRAD: *nodding* That makes perfect sense.

RUFUS CLIFFORD: *skeptical* Very well... since your florist's station *is* near the manager's office, who did you see coming in and out of that hallway this morning, around the time of the death?

RD: *puts a hand to his mouth, thinking* I'm not sure if I could recall *everyone* who entered and exited the offices, but I do know of a few. Don Crosby kept coming in and out all day, as per his job as assistant manager. I think one of the elderly greeters entered around opening time, too. A drunk woman went down to the offices after, and I was going to stop her, as I didn't recognize her as a member of the staff, but an urgent phone call rang right then. Then, I saw Don Crosby send some cashiers back to his office, I assume to be reprimanded for their flirting on the job. *laughs* They're always doing that. Then, Erica Rockefeller last, who came back out screaming. I'm sure, though, that as I worked on my flowers, I missed a person or two who went back there.

RC: You mentioned an urgent phone call? What was that about?

RD: *raises an eyebrow, confused, then laughs* Oh, it's my Mother. She's in poor health. 

RUFUS CLIFFORD: I assume this was before the cell phone service outage that occurred right before the death?

ROWAN DELACROIX: Yes, it was long before. By the way, do you know if there's going to be any headway on that, or on getting us out of this blizzard? The lack of internet, and my Mother's poor health, is, well, driving me crazy.

DAPHNE WINOGRAD: *eyes still dreamy* Understandably so.

RC: No, we know just as much as you do, Mr. Delacroix. This storm may last until nightfall, if not later.

RD: Lucky that we got stranded in a supermarket, of all places.

DW: *laughs* Yes, very lucky.

RC: *side eyes Daphne* Well, that's all the questions we have for you at the moment. *He stands up, leading Rowan out of the room, and then returns to his seat, glaring at Daphne.*

DW: What?

RC: The *number one* rule of detective work is to not let your personal feelings get in the way of a case.

DW: I thought the number one rule was to catch the bad guy, which Rowan clearly isn't.

RC: There are a lot of number one rules, okay? If you don't start shaping up, I'm going to have to call off the investigation until the storm's over. As much as I want to catch this killer as soon as possible, I don't want you fouling it up, alright?

DW: *sours* Fine.

RC: Good. *stomach grumbles* I'm starving. Want something from the produce isle before our next interview?

DW: I'll pass. How long do you think you're gonna be?

RC: Twenty minutes, tops. Might sit down and have lunch with Rodriguez and Hill. You want to join us?

DW: Nah, just wondering. I think I'm gonna look over more details in my notes. Enjoy your lunch.

RC: I will. *he nods at her, then exits the room.*

DW: *yawns* I should've gotten better sleep last night... *She opens the notebooks, studying them for a few minutes. Slowly, her eyes begin to droop, and she begins to rest her head on her arms, falling asleep.*