The Interrogation

The silence in the living room pounds in my ears while I wait on the couch, patting my knees in some rhythm that makes comfortable sense to my agitated brain. I look around, admiring the simple, neat decorations. Minimal, nothing showy. Kinda grey, but not dreary. Everything about this apartment screams 'pragmatic,' including its owner.

There is one thing, however, that stands out, a pop of color in the grey: An 11-year-old girl, sitting on the couch and staring right into my goddamn soul. She looks like her sister, right down to the grumpy, suspicious scowl. The only real differences are the bright pink goggles resting on top of her messy hair, and the white coat that looked about three sizes too big. Was that a lab coat? What does an 11-year-old need with a lab coat?

She keeps staring at me. I remove my hat and rest it on my lap. That doesn't seem to make her look any less offended. I hate kids.

"So…you're Mr. Marshall?" She asks me suddenly. I glance over and we lock eyes again. The look on her face is a dead ringer for the look her sister give criminals in interrogation. Between her and Starr, they always spill their guts. Now that I'm finally on the other side of the stare, I can see why.

"Uh…yeah." I reply, looking away again. Where the hell is this woman, anyway? She don't wear makeup, what the hell could be taking so long? "And you're Lana's sister, right?"

The girl huffs, a little more dramatically than is really necessary. "My NAME is EMA." She tells me pointedly. Jesus wept, I think. "Why are you even here? Lana doesn't have to work today."

I glance back at Ema again. Why am… "Wait, Lana didn't tell you?" I ask.

For the first time, the glare is gone. She looks just as confused as I am. "Tell me what? Aww, does she have to go in tonight after all?" She deflates like an old balloon, and it tugs at my heart a little. Poor kid. Lana does spend an awful lot of time at the precinct. I think I've seen the kid running around before, but I never paid her much mind. Kids and I are best kept at a polite distance from each other.

"Er, no." I reply clumsily. "No that ain't it."

"Well then why are you he-" she interrupts her own barrage of angry questions with a loud, almost horrified gasp, throwing her hands up to her face, "Unless...you're taking Lana on a date!"

Coming from a surprised preteen, the idea is almost embarrassing. I look away, but her indignant squeal at my sudden silence and fiery-hot ears and neck is proof enough for her.

"YOU ARE!" She wails, leaping to her feet. She runs over to me and stands right in front of where I'm sitting, hands on hips, demanding my attention. "Where are you two going? Are you gonna feed her? Are you gonna pay for it? Are you gonna kiss her? Has this been going on behind my back?! I can't believe Lana never told me! Did you bring condoms? You be-"

I slap my hands over the devil child's mouth in terror. "Would you stop?!" I screech in a whisper, my jaw cemented shut. "D...Did you just ask me if I brought condoms?!"

Ema sputters behind my hands and pulls them away, shrugging once she's freed herself. "Lana says it's very important to practice responsible sexual intercourse." She explains matter-of-factly. "Or you can get pregnant or get diseases."

My hands drop in front of me, mouth hanging open like a slack-jawed fool. An eleven-year-old is giving me a lecture on safe sex. I wanna go home.

Ema uses my shock to her advantage and throws her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder and squealing with delight. "I can't believe you're taking Lana on a date!" She cries, beaming up at me. "Especially you, of all people! You seem nice I guess but she usually goes for guys who are…" her eyes sparkle, "...smarter."

Judging from the pause, I can only assume she had a harsher word in mind. I can't imagine what it could have been.

I carefully extract this girl from my body and hold her at arm's length. Better. "Uh...thanks." I mutter, trying not to feel insulted by an actual goddamn child. It's harder than it sounds. I squint at her, confused by her personality turnaround. "Who even taught you all that sex stuff?"

Ema shrugs. "Lana. She said it's important to know once you have your first period and become a woma-"

"You can stop there." I blurt, closing my eyes with a strained sigh. I pinch the bridge of my nose, massaging the space between my eyes. I have a headache. Why isn't Lana ready yet?

Ema adjusts the goggles on her head with a smile. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's just science! It's actually biology, that's the science of life and living things. Did you know that?"

"Yeah." I grunt, risking another peek at this strange little girl. "You like science, huh?"

"I love science!" She cries excitedly, balling her hands into little fists. "I wanna be a scientific investigator when I grow up! I wanna help Lana and you guys solve crime with the power of science!"

You can almost see the stars in her eyes, and I smile in spite of myself. "Well, that's a mighty ambitious goal. I like it." I tell her, surprised by my honesty.

"Lana says it's not gonna be easy for me to get into a male-dominated industry like science, but I'm not afraid!" Her fists tighten enough that I can practically hear the creaking of her bones. "I'm gonna get the best grades and go to the best college and those boys aren't gonna know what hit 'em! Just like Lana did!"

I chuckle. It's like every time she opens her mouth, a little bit of Lana comes spilling out. "Well, if anyone can do it." I tell her with a shrug. "You've already got enthusiasm in spades."

She grins hungrily, then takes a seat on the coffee table across from me. "You're a detective like Lana, right? Do you guys work together a lot?"

I nod. "That's how we met." I explain. "She got hired a little after I did. She's a good detective. You work with her and you know for sure you're gonna get the bad guy."

Ema smiles. "She graduated top of her class, you know." She brags. "Did you?"

I rub the back of my neck. "Not really." I admit, afraid to meet her eyes. The only way I would have ever been close to the top of my class was if someone flipped the list upside-down. I'm a good cop, there's no two ways about that. But good student? Not so much.

"Oh. Well…" she smiles. "At least you still got a job!"

This kid has a real special way of punching holes into my self-confidence. I feel my shoulders tense a little. "...Yeah, I lucked out I guess." I tell her, the words dripping with sarcasm. Bright as she is, she manages to miss that.

"So what are you and Lana gonna do tonight?" She asks excitedly. "It's not dinner and a movie, is it? She says dinner and a movie is cliche and boring."

I chew the inside of my cheek. "I just thought we'd go to town, wander around and grab something to eat. She likes to walk, right?"

Ema smiles. "She does." She agrees. "Where are you gonna eat?"

I sit up a little, smiling. See, this is okay. This is fine. We can talk about this. "There's this great steakhouse out by the boardwa-"

"Ohhhhh." Ema says, looking away awkwardly. She swings her legs and sighs, keeping her head low. I stare at her, frowning.

"What?"

"Well, I mean…" Ema says slowly, letting her eyes wander to the other side of the room. "Lana doesn't really like steak…"

I blink a few times. "No?"

Ema shakes her head, lips shut tight. Shit.

"Uh…" I scramble to think of a new plan. No steak. Okay. What other restaurants are by the boardwalk? "Well, I uh...there's an Indian place…"

Ema shakes her head again, humming. I'm floundering.

"Pizza?"

Ema shrugs, sighing again. I feel faint.

"Seafood?"

There's a pause, then Ema smiles at me, finally making eye contact again. She nods, and I sit back with a heavy sigh. I feel like I just dodged a bullet.

"So there's a seafood place on the boardwalk that I think she'll like." I amend, and Ema giggles at me. "I thought we'd go there and maybe walk around town when we're done. There's tons of stuff to look at. There's even a park on the way back here."

"Are you gonna get her a present?"

I stare blankly at Ema for a moment, then lean in a little. "...Should I?" I ask, my voice low.

Ema gives me a sly look.

"...Jewelry?"

"Lana hates jewelry."

"Flowers?"

"That are just gonna die in a few days? Too depressing."

"Candy?"

"Lana says it rots your teeth."

"Does she like anything?"

"Are you even trying?! Come on, think about everything you know about Lana and go from there."

I close my eyes and think, rubbing my forehead. Everything I know about Lana. Well, she's drop-dead gorgeous. She works hard. She's kinda scary. She...works hard. She must love her sister (somehow). And she works pretty hard.

Well, alright. She works a lot. Go from there. I strain to think of something, but am coming up short. Maybe something that she can use at work?

My eyes fly open. I look at Ema like I just discovered the secret to life. "There's a calligraphy shop right down the street from the seafood place." I tell her. "They got all sorts of fancy pens and shit. She fills out forms all the time. Fancy pens?"

I lean in closer, eager to hear the verdict on my idea. Ema holds back, tapping her chin thoughtfully and staring at the ceiling, hemming and hawing.

Finally, she looks at me, and smiles.

"That'll work." She says.

I smile back.

"And watch your language!" She cries, snatching my hat and stuffing it back onto my head, covering my face. "I'm just a child, you know!"

"Hey!" I yelp, and laugh. "Who's watching their language? You were just talkin' about condoms two minutes ago!"

Before I even realize what I'm doing, I grab Ema up and drag her into my arms, shoving my hat onto her face. She squeals and laughs, squirming in my arms and kicking her feet. I chuckle, too. When she finally wrestles the hat away she rolls back to the other and of the couch and throws it at me. We both laugh when I catch it with my face.

"You're so weird!" She tells me. "But Lana's right, you are pretty cute."

I set my hat back on my lap and glance at Ema again. "She thinks I'm cute?" I ask hopefully.

"Ema!"

The two of us look up and over the back of the couch and see Lana. Lana has always been gorgeous, but this is the first time I've ever seen her out of uniform. She's got on a slick black dress I've never seen before that hugs in all the right places. Her scarf is still secured around her neck, fluttering behind her as she walks. She's wearing stilettos. And eye shadow.

Ema and I exchange a look. Apparently this is also her first time seeing Lana dressed as anything but a detective.

"Lana!" Ema calls, beaming and hopping over the back of the couch. "You look soooo pretty!"

Lana pats her sister's head affectionately. "You sound surprised." She teases, but I sense the smallest tinge of offense that makes the corners of my mouth twitch. "I saw your feet on the couch. You're wearing shoes."

"Oops." Ema says innocently, but then points at me. "It's Mr. Marshall's fault though! He tried to smother me with his hat!"

Lana glances up at me, eyebrow raised. "Really."

"I uh…" I rub the back of my head. How am I even supposed to defend myself? "...She started it?"

Lana doesn't look mad. Just surprised and confused. I think it's a sentiment everyone in the room is sharing.

She kneels down and kisses Ema's forehead. "Do you have your cellphone?"

Ema nods. "Yes, ma'am."

Lana smiles back and gets up. "Alright. I'll be back in a few hours. Lock the door behind us."

I scramble to my feet and hold my hat to my chest, swallowing nervously as Lana approaches me. She quirks an eyebrow at me. I hold out my arm, and Lana loops hers through it with an approving smile. We head to the door together, and Ema hurries over to open it for us.

Our eyes meet, and she mouths something to me. It looks like 'good luck'.

I tip her a wink. She smiles.

"So," Lana says as we step out into the hall, "You tried to smother my sister?"

I glance down at her and see a smug grin on her face. I suddenly realize why Ema's looked so damn familiar.

"She had it comin'." I assure her, grinning. "She said something pretty interesting while we were waiting for you, though. Something about how you think I'm cute? Let's talk about that."

I laugh at the look of sheer horror that cracks Lana's careful facade. Red as a tomato, she scowls over her shoulder at Ema, who simply waves and shuts the door.