A few days ago.
"State your name, please."
The woman with bright, platinum blond hair sitting at the table in the interrogation room rolled her blue eyes at the detective sitting in front of her. "You know my name."
The detective tapped the recording device on the table between them. He was several days past needing a shave but otherwise not like any cop she would have expected. Hell, this would have gone a whole lot more smoothly if Detective Walter Bolt was anything like she'd expected: a grizzled, overweight veteran popping heart medication like Smarties and grumbling about how he was only days away from retirement. Sure, men like that had no interest in women like her but it would make him cautious and more likely to back down. After all, this was the Kingpin they were dealing with. Only ambitious, young cops with nothing to lose and everything to gain like the handsome man wearing the hell out of that dress shirt and trench coat combination that detectives loved so much dared to go this aggressively after the Kingpin.
Bolt would find out soon enough that even when you thought you had nothing to lose, you could lose everything.
"Felicia Hardy."
"Age?" Bolt continued, sitting back in the metal folding chair. He folded his arms across his chest. Today, he was wearing a blue dress shirt with thin green vertical stripes under his trenchcoat. As Felicia opened her mouth to speak, he added, "And if you say 'old enough to know better but young enough to do it anyway,' this interview is over."
Felicia huffed. "Twenty-three." Bolt raised an eyebrow at her. She sighed. "Twenty-seven."
Bolt reached up and switched the recording device off. "Ms. Hardy, I understand that this is difficult for you-"
"Difficult?" Felicia spat, standing angrily away from the table. She smoothed the front of the red minidress she had worn to be cliche and was now regretting as she tried to calm herself. She took a deep breath. "You're asking me to testify against a very dangerous man because you've threatened to take away the only thing I can't live without. What this is, Detective Bolt, is impossible."
Bolt stood up and walked around the table to place a hand on Felicia's elbow. "Please. Have a seat and let's talk about something more pleasant first. We can talk about Ben."
Felicia waved a hand dismissively as Bolt guided her back to her own folding chair. "Absolutely not. Ben is off-limits."
"I understand, Ms. Hardy. But we will have to discuss him at some point. His involvement is critical to our case."
"Don't patronize me, Detective Bolt." Felicia reached for police station coffee, grimacing into the contents of the paper cup before taking a tentative sip. "This is vile, for your information." She put the cup back down on the table. "This is your case. I am here under protest."
"Duly noted," Bolt acknowledged as he returned to his own seat. He switched the recording device back on. "Well, as this is my case, why don't we start where I want to start. Tell me about Mrs. Yanizeski."
Felicia flashed her teeth in an expression that might have been a smile had it touched her eyes. "I find it fascinating that you boys always want to know about her first." Detective Bolt waggled his fingers in her direction, a gesture that clearly said, Get on with it. Felicia cleared her throat. "Well, of course you know that I didn't meet her as Mrs. Yanizeski. Right from the beginning, she was always Janice..."