Disclaimer: I own not a mite of this Dragon Age stuff except for my cadash!
"Is handcuffs your idea of romance, Rainier?" Anais shook the thin steel chain keeping her hands together, as she rested her boots on the table. Crusted mud shook off, onto the clean surface. Thom fought the urge to shove her short legs down.
"This isn't a date, Cadash." He insisted, voice exasperated somewhere behind her back.
The redhead looked toward the two-way mirror, her way of asking if he was being watched. "You're the one who keeps getting stuck with me. What, you been asking for me?"
"You know why you're here, don't you?" Thom crossed the room, leaning against the edge of the table almost nonchalantly.
"Pigs always pick me up." Anais responded plainly, the corners of her lips curled upward in a sneer just enough to let him see the top row of her teeth. "Can't help it if they don't tell me the bullshit charges they have on me."
"I know for a fact Detective Mornay read you your rights, and told you why he was bringing you in. It isn't his fault when you insist you'd rather be seen getting arrested than, and I quote; 'be seen cooperating with a pig like him'."
"Do you think I like squealing on my mates, Rainier? Just because I'm your goddamn informant–"
"Listen." Thom dropped the folders he held with a loud clatter, letting the coroner's photographs slip free and slide across the table. "Do either of these men look familiar to you?"
"Yeah, that's the sleazy fuck that tried to make a move on me on that deal that went south last month." Anais gestured to the first, looking at the washed out photo. "Guess he's not getting anymore dwarf dust any time soon."
"Looks like you made the final move to me." Thom added, picking up another picture and setting it next to the first.
"Or I'm not the only pair of tits he had the audacity to grab at." Anais made a face, turning in her seat to look at the next photograph, feet on the ground now. Again, the next photo was of some other rat faced customer she'd seen in passing, but this one was the one whose wrist she broke when he tried to punch her out for telling him to get lost when he had no cash. "Never seen this guy." She lied smoothly, forcing her hands to start relaxing, splayed against the table top.
The third photo was of someone she barely recognized with the amount of damage done to her face, Rainier's voice sounding distant when he said the name she was dreading.
"Janeka's dead?" There was a palpable amount of fear in her voice, and her heart gave a wrench.
"You had nothing to do with this one then?" Thom shook the photograph, the material making a soft wobbling sound. "First Lieutenant Nadine Janeka, head of the fucking Narcotics unit, was found dead with the other two, and you're telling me you had no idea."
"Clearly." Anais rolled her eyes as she cleared her throat, trying desperately to get the choking feeling to go away. Janeka was her friend, or, at least, the closest thing to one she could get in her line of work. "She was a good woman, always had her mind on her job."
"Good is.. subjective. Not exactly a word I would use to describe her. She was found with two lyrium addicts, dead in an alleyway. And she was chummy with you of all people."
"And you think I did it? Yeah, sure, those guys were huge pricks; I'm not sorry they're dead, but Janeka? What the fuck could she have done?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out, Cadash."
"Last I even heard from her, she was looking for some guy. Riley something. Never saw him myself, he bought the dust from some other dealer, I guess. But she mentioned him all the time."
"Is it possible this person wanted her dead?"
"I guess. Rainier, you're the one with the training, not me." Anais shifted, uncomfortable with not having the suspicion spotlight on her anymore.
"Do you want some water or something?" He asked softly, noting how scared she looked, as he unlocked her handcuffs. Anais rubbed her red wrists, and nodded.
Only after the redhead had settled back down, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands did she begin to speak again:
"Apparently he was a regular at some methadone clinic Janeka did some work at or something, and his dose wasn't working properly, because he was on some dust that he claimed was 'ten times as strong as the regular shit' and he was getting it from some weird guy in Europe he referred to as his 'boss'. Like a shitload of people were saying they were getting this good shit from him, and they all were dead weeks later. Dead, or their brains were fried. All those overdoses the pigs ruled were fucking murder. And Janeka was trying to get to the bottom of it."
"Why do you know this and we don't?" Thom cast a worried glance to the two-way mirror.
"Hell if I know, Captain. Maybe you should get your head out of your ass next time."
Thom closed his eyes and sighed, silently praying for the strength to deal with this. "Look, if you find anything else out, you know how to get in contact with me."
"Shit, Rainier, we're already taking it to the next level?" Anais replied in a mocking tone, with a wry quirk of her head. "Next thing you'll know we'll be going out on real dates, instead of this same fuckup over and over."
Thom muttered something under his breath and shook his head, getting up from the chair he had just barely sunk into. "You're free to go, Anais." He opened the door for her and watched her leave. The short woman knew just where to go to get out of here, she'd be in nearly every week for the past two years on charges that never really seemed to stick.
Thom knew there was something between them, he could feel it, and he was sure Anais knew it too. She always managed to snag him in between things he really needed to be doing otherwise.
He swept the photographs back into the folder, and the dried debris from the sidewalk (transferred by Anais' massively heeled boots, of course), only to realize the photograph of Lieutenant Janeka was missing. This time he swore out loud and stormed out of the interrogation room, angrily stuffing his arms into the sleeves of his coat and hurrying off after the Cadash woman into the cold.