FBI Damsel: Foreign Affairs

thirteen: Interviews with Eddie and Parker

UPLOAD!!! wrote it quickly after a ten hour work day on my feet, so sorry for any errors! hope ya'll enjoy.<3 XDee

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Eddie sat on the edge of the table, with Parker in the chair beside him. Vaughn and Valerie were watching through the double-sided mirror. Detective Swank stood beside the unit leader, biting her lip and trying not to pretend like she didn’t mind not being the one to interrogate the girl. It was understandable that the FBI were the ones to do it, but couldn’t she at least be in the room? And why did these two have to be the ones to do it? Why not the nerd and the intimidating chick?

“You say you know who’s behind this all?” Eddie began.

The girl nodded. “Yes.”

“Please, feel free to tell us at any time,” Parker said. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair.

“Hold on, bro. Give her a second to get comfortable. I’m sure being in this big, scary police station has made her a little on edge and she can’t think clearly. Am I right?” Eddie asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. A little.”

“Okay, so we’ll ask a few questions to get you a little more comfortable. What’s your name?”

“Mandy Cartwright.”

“And how old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“What college do you go to?”

“I don’t go. I work at a tanning salon off of Main Street.”

“Do you have a boyfriend or significant other?”

She smiled, blushed, and looked away. “…No. I don’t. How is that relevant?”

Eddie winked. “It’s for my personal use. Now, do you feel good enough to answer some serious question?”

Mandy nodded again. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

In the other room, Detective Swank looked at Vaughn. “I now understand why you picked them. They’re very good at pulling information out of girls, huh?”

He smirked. “You should see them with a gay man.”

Mandy leaned forward. “He’s a friend of a friend. I met him at a party a while back, and he gave off a weird vibe then. I’ve seen him a few times and he only gets creepier.”

“What’s his name?” Parker asked.

“Louis Strand.”

“What group is he with? League of the South? World Church of the Creator?” Eddie asked.

She shook her head, laughing. “No, no, God no! None of those. He’s a redneck. He’s originally from some super-small town in Southern Canada, above Wyoming or something like that. Anyway, he lived in Alabama for a while. He came to the US thinking they were still superbly racist and was extremely disappointed when he saw things weren’t as bad as his old middle school books said they were. I-I think he’s doing it alone. But, if he does have ‘partners’ it’d be his redneck friends. They’re all weird like that.”

“Like what?” Eddie asked, leaning forward. She gulped at the sight of his muscles under his button-up shirt.

“Um, we-he –they – often drive around in some beat-up pick-up truck, smashing mailboxes of only colored people’s homes and shooting pictures of famous non-white leaders in their backyard. They walk around saying they’re members of the Nazi party, but a known member has renounced their membership in public, they’re so bad. My friend told me a few days ago that they were talking about planning something big, but won’t tell him what they’re up to, like they normally do,” she explained. She leaned forward again. “Not to mention, his mom used to abuse him. Sexually. Cuz, you know, his dad would beat them both real bad, but she eventually left him for Alabama. Rumor has it, his younger brother isn’t his mom’s boyfriend!”