Human Wings of Fire

First day on the job

      The police station was clearly no place for a seven-year-old girl to be working.

     And yet, there stood Chief Martin Griffith's second-grade daughter, Maya.

     She took a deep breath, trying not to notice the stares that pierced her skin as she followed her father to her "post."

     "Daddy?" she began.

     "What is it, Maya?" her father replied gruffly.

     "What if this doesn't work?" she asked.

     "Nonsense, who could lie to a seven-year old? Even if someone could, you have your... precautions," he told his daughter, giving her nose a small tap.

     Maya nodded, fiddling with one of the two unusual silver strands of hair she'd been born with. "Sure. Okay. Yeah. I can do this." Maybe. Possibly. Probably not. I'm SEVEN! I never asked for any of this! I should be doing subtraction homework right now! Somebody point out how absolutely crazy it is to have me here!!!

     Maya was overwhelmed with anxieties, and not all of them came directly from her. It was safe to say that, other than her father, nobody here believed that she could fill the "interrogator" post.

     She could clearly hear the doubts in their minds, and they echoed her own thoughts almost exactly.

     This was her secret, the one she never should've told her father. He called her psychic, but she really preferred the term "telepathic." (Even if, she supposed, her father's terminology was more accurate.) The first one recorded in decades, centuries, perhaps a millennia or two. This, of course, meant that she could see exactly what someone had been doing at the moment of a crime scene. If they'd done what they were suspected of, or even witnessed it... well, she'd probably be scarred for life. Maya tried not to think about that.

     Her father must have seen something in her face, because he stopped, knelt down, and put hands on her shoulders, saying, "Don't let their doubts affect you. They don't know what they're doubting."

     Maya nodded. Okay. Alright. I can do this! Probably. Possibly. Maybe... ish. If nothing goes horribly wrong.

     Maya steeled her nerves as she walked through the doorway to see the first person she was to ever interrogate.

     She gave a small gasp when she saw the young man leaning against the far wall.

     He was huge, at least six inches taller than her, she thought, and his muscles were clearly visible through the rather tight red flannel he wore. He had the build of a football player or a wrestler. However, he merely gave a kind smile when he saw her.

     "Hello there, little one. No need to be afraid." The suspect waved to Maya, who jumped a little.

     She mentally cursed herself. Don't let them see you afraid. They won't take you seriously if they see that you're scared of them.

     The suspect gestured to the table and chairs. "Have a seat," he said, sitting in the chair nearest him. "Come now, don't be shy. You're the chief's daughter, right?"

     Maya nodded. "Maya Griffith, yes. And you're... Clayton Smith, correct?"

     The man nodded. "I'm sure the chief won't mind you sitting there until the interrogator gets here."

     Maya giggled. "Yeah... about that... funny story... I kiiinda-"

     "Am hungry?" Clayton supplied, pulling out a plastic bag. "I have some fruit snacks if you want."

     Maya shook her head. "No, I'm not hungry."

     Clayton shrugged. "More for me, I guess," he replied, shoving a handful into his mouth.

     "I was going to say... I kinda... am the interrogator."

     At that, Clayton's eyebrows shot up almost entirely up his forehead. Maya thought his face would peel off if they went any higher. "You? You're the interrogator? How old are you? Eight? Nine?"

     "Seven, actually."

     Clayton nodded slowly as Chief Martin came in. "Morning, Chief. That's quite a young interrogator you got there. Seven, she says? Why isn't she at school?"

     Chief Martin, not answering the question, sat down in a chair in the corner of the room. "I suspect you know the reason you're here?"

     Clayton shook his head. "Wasn't told. Care to explain?"

     Maya nodded. "Y-You're a witness in some sort of... murder case. A-According to Dad."

     Clayton raised an eyebrow. "Oh, the one at the new pizza place?"

     Maya nodded, looking at her father for confirmation. He nodded. "The murder of Leilani Dawes."

     She inhaled deeply, trying to breathe the  trembling out of her voice. "Where were you yesterday at seven p.m.?"

     Clayton smiled. "Easy. I was at that new pizza place with some of my friends, Suspira and Stephanie," he said.

     As Maya glimpsed his memories of the moment, she nodded. True to his word, he was seated at a table with two girls, looking at a pizza menu at a restaurant she didn't recognize. "He's telling the truth, Dad."

     Clayton smiled at her. "Yes I am, little lady. So we were deciding what to order when Suspira said she had to go to the bathroom. So she went, and about thirty seconds later, there were a couple of gunshots... two or three, I think. And then everyone was screaming! So we went to look, and a waiter was lying dead on the ground. It was crazy!"

     Maya nodded, shuddering. Clayton was telling the truth, and scenes were flashing through his head that a would-be-second-grader should never have to see.

     "Wait... was it Suspira? She would've been 'in the bathroom' then, right?"

     Clayton shook his head quickly. "No! She would never! I don't think... I mean, if you want to interrogate her, that's fine, but I'm certain she didn't do it."

     Maya nodded. "Okay, sir. Thanks for your time."

     Her father gave her a small smile, opened the door, and gestured for the Clayton to leave.

     He did. "See you around, Chief, Maya."

     Maya gave a small wave, feeling a little bit better. A little, but not much. This is gonna be a long couple years...

Woo! First chapter! Baby Moon being a cinnamon bun :) Love that for her! You'll meet another JW member in two chapters!