[COMPLETED] After finally turning eighteen, foster-kid Callista Ford, goes out to party with a group of friends, in hopes of coming out of her shell for once, and maybe even snatching up the cute green-eyed guy staring at her from across the room.
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THE warmth of the coffee warmed him from within, like a rising sensation that brought him an abnormal sense of wellness and security, in the last thirty-minutes he had free from solving cases, about blood, death, violence, and rape.
The froth caressed his lips lightly, the white getting caught in the stubble of a mustache sprinkled across his lips. His eyebrows were permanently dipped in a crease, and he looked generally unfriendly and unapproachable from an outsider's perspective.
His eyes jumped to the door, whenever a newcomer would walk in. Quickly returning to the brown hues in his mug after properly assessing them, and making sure they didn't pose a threat.
His day typically started with coffee, creamy and dark, with a sugary undertone. He needed caffeine at least twice a day before dealing with people.
Or more or so, dealing with Carter.
''Detective Smith.'' A softly-spoken female called. Eyes darting from his face, to her feet.
The man in question narrowed his eyes, moodily snapping out a. ''What? I'm on my lunch break.''
She swallowed, giving away the sight of her nerves. ''I'm sorry, it's - we uh, we have another witness in for questioning.'' She said. ''He's already given his statement to the police, but he's uh willing to uh - ''
''Well, I ain't got all day, 'darlin. Spit it out.''
He realized he was starting to sound a lot like Carter.
She folded her arms behind her back, biting her lips in a nervous habit. ''He's willing to talk to us, about his account of what happened.''
''Great, give it to Carter,'' Gesturing to his steaming mug, he said. ''I'm eating.'' Although you technically didn't eat coffee.
''We can't. Carter hasn't clocked in yet.''
His nostrils flared.
John scurried down the hallways, not at all bothered by the fact the woman had to jog just to match his pace.
''He appears to be very shaken, Mr. Smith.''
''Gotcha.''
''We think it'd be best if you'd go for the soft approach.''
''Okay.''
''And also, he's not a core person of interest. So if you could be nice to him, that'd be nice.''
He stopped, just outside of the interrogation room. Staring her down blankly, and catching her before she could fall after running into his back. ''Anything else?''
She blushed furiously. ''No sir.''
That was all the confirmation he needed to walk into the room, case-file in hand. A disinterested look plastered across his face.
He believed this was going to get him nowhere.
The boy looked up, pon entry. Unattaching his lips from his Gatoraid bottle.
Sean Stevens was a tall guy for his age, being nineteen and standing around John's height himself. He had brown eyes... or a brown eye and a blue eye? With a blonde fade. Silver spirals going in and out of both ears.
John took a seat in front of him, clasping both hands together. ''Can you give us your visual account of what happened the night Callista was abducted?''
Sean struggled to speak, looking more like a spluttering fish out of water, so John sighed.
''Look, kid. You don't have to do this. If you're not ready to talk, nobody's forcing you to be here.''
''I - I know, but I want to! For Callie!''
John snorted to himself, this kid was probably one of the Jocks at his school. Snotting all over his shirt like a baby.
''Then, do you recall seeing Callista conversing with any strangers that night, or is there anyone in Callista's past that would want to hurt her? Like an ex-boyfriend or something.''
Sean shook his head. ''Callie was . . . she's an introvert, so she has trouble talking to anyone without her friends being with her. And... her friends were trying to set her up with this guy I know, so as far as I'm concerned, she's single. No boyfriends.''
John took note. ''Do you recall seeing Callista ingesting any alcoholic substances that night?''
''Yeah,'' He said quietly. ''I think I saw her drink once, but she started to look sick right after.''
''And did you? Ingest any alcohol that night?'' He took note of the nervous flicker in the boy's eyes. Watching him closely.
This was only a test, to see if he was a reliable witness.
''It's okay if you did, kid.'' He stretched his arms above his head. ''We're not gonna hold you accountable for that. We were teenagers once too.''
Sean hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. Deciding to take the truthful route.
John mentally applauded him.
''How many drinks did you have?''
''I don't know.'' He answered honestly. ''I had a couple.''
''Okay. When you said she looked sick, how - ''
''She was pale,'' He spoke, voice almost in a distant whisper. As if he were seeing the events happen visually as he spoke. ''And holding her stomach a lot. I asked her if she was okay, and she assured me she was, but I didn't believe it.'' His nails dig crescents in his palms. ''I didn't believe her.''
''What happened next?''
''She saw someone familiar, I think. In the crowd, and she disappeared.... in the crowd.''He clarified before he could ask.
John pursed his lips, leaning forward in a hunch. ''Someone familiar?''
''Yeah, I don't know, I was wasted.'' He winced at his choice of words. ''Tipsy.'' He corrected, even though John could care less about the fact he'd been drinking underage, and care more about the case and where they were going with it.
''I think it might've been a guy.'' Sean graced the silence with his low voice. ''I don't know, I couldn't see clearly, but I think... I think he might've been blonde?''
''Like a bleached blonde?''
''Man, I don't know. It was like looking in a mirror.''
Now John was confused, his eyebrows merging into a frown. ''What do you mean by that?''
The door shot open just as he was about to open his mouth.
A face he should've seen there an hour ago emerging from the other side with a large grin. ''We have footage!''
''Carter, can't you see I'm in the middle of something?'' John snarled, irritably. Clearly not in the mood for Carter's stupidity.
Carter looked unbothered by his harsh tone, maintaining his easy-going smile. ''Smith, I don't think you understand.''
Was this guy always speaking in puzzles? ''Understand what? Elaborate or don't!''
We have a direct shot of the suspects face!''
Carter woods grinned wider, wishing he could take a picture of the look on John's face.
