Disclaimer: Ramble, ramble, ramble.
Warrick let his fingers fly over the keys of the piano, a mournful tune. Something blue. But with a deft flick of his fingers, the song lifted a beat, started sounding a little jazzy, a little more upbeat. The house seemed to warm to the sound of music being played inside it once again - for once, the empty room seemed to fill with life. If Julia's soul still resided in this room, (as Sara would have believed) the dead girl's spirit was soothed, put to rest even, but the sound of music. Warrick slowed his playing once more, slipping again into a minor key, playing soft and low.
"Wow."
Warrick stopped, his fingers frozen on the keys, and turned. Valerie stood in the doorway, wearing the Forensics jumpsuit he'd gotten from the lab. She was staring at him, awed, her hands raised as though she were about to applause.
"Sorry," Warrick rose to his feet, looking sheepish. "I just couldn't help it. I mean, it was right there and no-one was playing it… I just got the itch."
"Hey," Val said, still awed, "Anyone who can play any kind of musical instrument earns a gazillion Brownie points in my book." She grinned. "Especially if they can play Fur Elise."
"You like Beethoven?"
Val nodded. "Love it. Love it, love it, love it. I couldn't hold a tune in a bucket if I tried, but I know what I like."
Warrick grinned back, still a little embarrassed, but warmed by Val's compliment. "You ready to go?"
Val gave him the thumbs-up. "You betcha."
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Samantha looked up under her eyelids at Nick. "Cocaine? In Marcus' trailer? Really?"
"Just answer the question," he said shortly.
The supermodel shrugged. "I wouldn't have a clue, really. What goes on in the agent's trailer is the agent's business - we stick to our own trailers, the hotel rooms, and the places where we have to strut our stuff." She tossed her hair and leaned a little closer to Nick. "Hey, it's getting a little hot in here. Mind if I take this off?" She tugged at her jacket lapel. Nick said nothing.
"Ms Renee," Sara looked up from the file she was holding, "You've been with Marcus the longest of any of the girls in his employ - and you haven't noticed his drug addiction?"
Samantha gave Sara a brittle glare. "Of course not. We strut up and down on stage and look good in the clothes we're told to wear. That's all."
"You have a degree from Harvard."
"Yeah, and?"
Sara looked at the model, frowning. "You don't want to do anything better with your life?"
Samantha, for once, looked a little put out. She pulled and twisted with a ring on her finger. "No." She took a breath, then smiled that predatory grin again. "No, I can't really think of anything I'd rather do. I mean, this world's full of people who've got gifts. Why not use 'em, right? And mine is looks." She smiled at Nick again. "Wouldn't you agree, handsome?"
"Good looks are no substitute for good manners."
Samantha barely batted an eyelid. "You must be Southern. Tina would say the exact same thing. Dallas, right?"
Nick exchanged glances with Sara. "What do you know about Tina?"
Samantha made a dismissive noise. "Stuck-up cow. Always thought she was better than the rest of us. Shares a trailer with the snot-nosed brat and the book nerd. She's the most difficult to deal with."
"Deal with?" Nick raised an eyebrow.
Samantha smiled, but offered no explanation.
"By 'snot-nosed brat' and 'book nerd'," Sara leant against the wall and flipped through the file, "I'm presuming you mean Jackie and Dana."
Samantha shrugged and looked bored. "Whatever. The Blondes are all a bunch of stuck-up cows. Which is why they're all penned together. Moo." She grinned viciously.
"The Blondes?"
Samantha looked at Sara as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Yeah, the Blondes. 'Cause they all have blonde hair. And for some reason, they call us the Bitches."
Nick and Sara exchanged glances. Nick smiled a slightly frosty smile. "Now, why on earth would that be?"
Samantha gave him a false smile in return. "Ha. Ha. And ha for good measure." She shrugged. "Look, I don't know anything, alright? If Tina's gone, no big loss. Some of us could double up. For some reason, six is Marcus' lucky number, okay? So he wants six girls modelling in three days' time. But we could do without her. I mean, we've dealt with only five of us before, when Jackie…" She made quote marks in the air with her fingers, "'Got sick'." She snorted and folded her arms. "Got sick my ass."
"You seem pretty sure about that." Sara said coolly. "Why would that be?"
Samantha closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. "Jackie's a kid. And like all kids, she misbehaves. So what do you do when kids misbehave? You discipline them. Like I said, 'got sick'."
Sara stared, aghast. "Discipline?"
"Look," Samantha sat up, looking business-like and suddenly like she had better things to do. "I came here, didn't I? I've answered your stupid questions, told you more than I ever thought I would have. You're supposed to be scientists…" She rose to her feet, "So figure it out yourself." She headed for the door.
"We're not done," Nick called out. "Sit down."
Samantha turned back. Her expression was cold, and her eyes glittered with menace. "You may not be done, but I am. If you want to talk to me, go through Marcus and all his lawyers. You went around him to get this interview - next time you do it the hard way." She slammed the door behind her.
Nick sat back in his chair and sighed. Sara sat down and put the file on the table between them. "Well," She said dryly, "That went well."
"It was more than what she said back at Caesar's."
Sara looked at him strangely. "Perhaps if you used your 'Southern charm', she might have said a little more." She smiled a little. "Something on your mind?"
Nick shook his head. "Not really."
Sara smiled, a little wider this time. "Not really?"
Nick shook his head again. "Not really." He paused a beat, then changed the subject. "I think it would better if we interviewed the girls who shared a trailer with Tina. They'll probably know more about her, maybe have more clues to her disappearance."
Sara's expression went from amused to deadpan in an instant.
"What?" Nick said, smiling, "Forget the main reason for our investigation, did you, Sara? We're looking for a missing supermodel - finding a drug-addict manager was just a sideline, something that came up. Don't chase it too hard."
"I won't," Sara said calmly, "But what I am going to chase is the definition of 'discipline'."
Nick's smile vanished, and the expression on his face was just as stony as Sara's.
A/N: Shortish chapter this time. Longer next time. And full of action and adventure and EVIL! Mua ha ha!
Wish me luck with the stupid year eleven stuff.