Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters belong to me. They belong to their respective owners who are much richer than I am. If you attempt to sue, you will be soundly mocked.
Buffy sighed, leaning back in her chair. It wobbled a little and she sat back up. Stupid chair!
She pouted to herself. Stupid police and stupid Buffy.
No matter how often it happened, she was always shocked when the cops were competent. She never could remember that the Sunnydale police force was not a good example of the genus.
She’d already talked to these officers once, after they found out she’d been seen leaving a club with their missing person. She’d convinced them that she hadn’t seen anything, omitting the fact that Jason was now missing because she’d staked him. He was a vampire, how was I to know he was also a well-to-do and well-known.
Buffy’s lip crept out farther, and she folded her arms.
On the other side of the two-way mirror, Bobby Goren watched the small blonde with his customary curiosity. The expressions that chased across her face were fascinating. She didn’t seem at all concerned with being in an interrogation room, and was almost more annoyed by the fact that her chair kept wobbling. She hadn’t demanded a phone call, or a lawyer.
Bobby looked back down at the file in his hands. The records had been buried, they hadn’t found them in any of their searching, and they had searched. Buffy Summers was the last person seen with Jason Pulsifer, and they had no other suspects. The files had been delivered to the precinct early one morning. There was no return address, and no traces of any kind indicating where it had come from, or who had sent it. But the information was certainly interesting. Buffy had been suspected and questioned in three deaths—a foreign national Kendra, no last name; a teacher at her school, Jenny Calendar; and the deputy mayor, Allan Finch—the explosion that blew up her high school on the day of graduation, and the destruction of the town of Sunnydale. The last one had really caught Goren’s interest. He remembered that catastrophe, and how every news station was full of the fact that the town had been evacuated prior to the collapse. He nodded at Alex. It was time to start.
Buffy looked up as the door opened. The two detectives she had met earlier entered the room, and shut the door behind them.
“Officers Goring and Aims, right?” She smiled perkily.
“Detectives Goren and Eames ,” the redhead corrected coolly, indicating Bobby and herself .
“Sorry,” Buffy flashed her blonde airheaded smile again. “What’s the what?”
Bobby quirked his mouth at the vacuity, it didn’t fit at all with the files he held. He tossed them onto the table in front of her. Buffy looked down, and flipped open the folder, scanning the contents quickly. She pursed her lips, then looked up meeting Eames’ eyes questioningly.
“How interesting, but I don’t get it. What do you want?”
Bobby shifted in his seat, drawing Buffy’s attention. He leaned forward, pushing aside some of the papers, pointing at various lines. “You see Ms. Summers, considering your history with the police, we believe that you may know more than you are telling us regarding Mr. Pulsifer.” He looked Buffy in the eye. “I think you need to tell us what happened that night outside the club.”
As he watched, something moved in Buffy’s gaze, a shadow stirred. The hairs on the back of Bobby’s neck rose, and danger trickled through the room. Eames moved a little, uneasy.
“I don’t agree.”
Buffy’s eyes were clear green again, and she smiled her bright cheerleader smile.