One Stupid Thing

4:3:122

Shoupe leads us the entire way up the long path of stairs and into the main house at the top. That other female officer flanked behind us which really added to the whole experience, truly. But what really became the cherry on top was the bagged-up body of Wes Genrette being wheeled out on a stretcher right as we were about to enter his home.

Taking up office in the main room where we first met Mr. Genrette, Shoupe takes each of us one by one and "asks us questions." Once I'm summoned, I take a seat across from him on the arm of one of the couches where all of my friends had sat before me to get drilled. 

"I'm pretty sure this is called an interrogation, Shoupe. What ever happened to 'you have the right to remain silent' or I don't know, maybe 'you have the right to an attorney—"

"Like I said multiple times, I only want to ask you a few things." Shoupe sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, and mutters, "Princesses, these Cameron sisters." 

Acting as if I hadn't heard his comment, I continue ranting on. "But I'm considered a suspect, aren't I?" 

"Person of interest, actually," he corrects me, his tone laced with annoyance. 

"Ah, right. All the freedom to 'ask your questions,'" I put up air quotes with my fingers, "but no legalities to get in your way. I see how it is, Victor." 

Shoupe rests his pen and pad of paper down onto his lap in frustration. "Well, with that knowledge, Stella, you could be your own lawyer," he replies sarcastically. 

I place a hand on my chest in mock flattery and gasp. "You really think I have what it takes? You flatter me, Shoupe." I pause and look down at the blank sheet of paper on his lap, smiling to myself victoriously. "I also know that, technically, if I'm only a person of interest, then I, technically, don't have to say anything to you. Ya know, since we're being technical here." 

Shoupe glares at me from his seat on top of a random table. "Technically, 'person of interest' can flip to 'suspect' with a snap of my fingers. So, you have two options here: talk, or I can put you in cuffs and take you back to the station with me. Your choice. Doesn't affect me any, but it might affect your friends' business quite a bit, and I happen to know that ya'll need the money." 

Well, that shut me up real quick. I fold my arms and stick out my tongue at him. "Way to ruin the fun, Shoupe." I sigh and finally say, "What is it you want to know?"

"Explain to me again why you and your friends were here yesterday." He picks up his paper and pen again, prepared to write. 

"I already told you. Genrette hired us to find some ancient trinket-thingy. He said that he was cursed and thought that if we found it that the curse would be broken, or, well, something along those lines." I was growing fed up with the repetition, and I'm sure he could tell. 

"So you thought, 'Sure. Why not get the poor man's hopes up'?" 

I shrug. "Like you said just a second ago, we need the money. Who were we to turn down $50,000?" 

Shoupe sighs, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. Probably because it's the exact same thing that all of my friends have said before me. "And did you look for this, um, amulet?" 

I nodded. "Yes, but you knew that already. We worked like dogs all night trying to trace the thing, but no such luck. It was an absurd thing to believe in anyway, wouldn't you agree? But, hey, at least we gave it a fair shot." 

"One last question." 

"Let's hear it." 

"Where's your little boyfriend, JJ, and your other friend, Kiara, at today? They were here with you yesterday, right?"