Deadly Silence (complete) Chapter 36

The police station was busy when they arrived but it didn’t seem to bother the detective as she lead the way towards the back.

Vivian hesitated, glancing at the two people manning the front desk, who ignored her existence, before following Amelia.

Thinking they would go to an office to chat, Vivian was unpleasantly surprised to find herself in what had to be an interrogation room.

“Please, have a seat,” the detective told her, motion towards the chair that sat in front of a spot on the table that had a slightly raised bar.

Taking the seat, Vivian set her school bag on the floor next to her feet, eyes examining the bar curiously for a moment before she realized what it was for; handcuffs.

If she was in handcuffs, they could slip them under the bar and cuff her to the table itself. *I should have sent that text message*, she realized, eyes moving to the detective, who was settling in the chair opposite Vivian. *I fucked up.*

“Alright, why don’t we get started,” Detective Mersey began as she set down a large file folder on the table — it had to be at least an inch thick — and opened it to the first page.

“What about my hot chocolate and food?” Vivian interrupted, trying to hide how angry she was at herself from the woman.

“Hmmm? Oh, yeah, my partner is getting that for you. He’ll bring it in a second. But let’s get this started instead of waiting, yeah?”

Pursing her lips, Vivian said nothing as she watched the woman flip through a few pages before finding the one she was looking for.

“So Vivian, you’ve been staying with the Devreauxs — your biological family — for nearly a month now, correct?”

Feeling like the question was both stupid and off topic, Vivian couldn’t stop the frown from creasing her brow. “You already know the answer. Next question.”

The detective glanced up at Vivian with a fake smile she didn’t bother to cover up. “Humour me.”

“No. Either ask me something you don’t already know or I’m leaving.”

“Vivian…” Detective Mersey sigh, resting her elbows on the table and leaning forward. “This is very important to me, okay? I need you to humour my questions so I can get to where I need to go. Even if they seem stupid and irrelevant, I guarantee they’re being asked for a reason.”

“And that reason would be…?”

“You’ll understand once I get through them.”

“Or you could just tell me now and call it a day.”

It was Detective Mersey’s turn to purse her lips as she now leaned back in her chair, finger tapping the table. “That’s now how this works, Vivian.”

“Miss St Peter.”

“What?”

“You can call me Miss St Peter,” Vivian replied with a single nod.

“That’s a little formal for someone your age, isn’t it?”

“Well it’s not like I know you, and you don’t know me. Isn’t it only polite we refer to each other impersonally, Detective Mersey? Or should I call you Amelia.”

It was obvious the detective did not enjoy the sass coming from the girl, but instead of standing her ground and forcing the matter she relented. “Very well, Miss St Peter. I apologize for my rudeness on the matter — it wasn’t my intent.”

Having won this round, Vivian nodded again. “Ask your next question then.”

The detective was pursing her lips in annoyance, but did as told, leaning forward again to pick up the top page. “What do you know about your family, Miss St Peter?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“In general.”

Shaking her head, Vivian didn’t relent. “No. You’re fishing for something and I’m not going to just ramble until I hit on what you’re looking for. If you want me to answer that question I will physically describe each of my brothers in minute detail until you tell me what you’re looking to know.”

“What makes you think I’m fishing for something? Has something… odd happened?”

*Where is my hot chocolate?* She didn’t actually want the beverage, but Vivian was adamant that what was promised for this conversation — no, this interrogation — was delivered. “I read a lot of books,” was all the girl said as she looked away from the detective. “I’m thirsty.”

“There’s probably a line at the shop next door,” Detective Mersey shrugged before returning to the topic she wanted to discuss. “You read a lot of books, and… know how interrogations work?”

Vivian returned her focus to the woman seated across the table and allowed a cocky smile to form on her lips. She’d slipped up and called this an interrogation. “Of course not. I also listen to podcasts about true crime, watch documentaries, and have been in too many interrogation rooms and therapy appointments to not know when someone is fishing.”

Letting the smile fade from her face, she continued, “I’m here as a curtesy and I’m quickly getting annoyed. Either get to the point or I’m walking out of here. Unless you’re arresting me you can’t hold me, especially since I’m a minor.”

Smiling a little, the detective nodded. “Of course. I understand you’re doing me a huge favour just being here so let’s keep going. Has something odd happened, or something you found strange or suspicious, since moving in with your family?”

Taking the question seriously, Vivian replayed the few weeks she’d spent with the Devreauxs over in her mind, settling on what had happened with Gabriel on Monday.

Was a delivery coming in the late evening suspicious? Probably not. But her brother’s reaction had been alarming. He’d acted like Vivian was in danger, and even locked her in his office until Sebastian arrived to bring her home. “I don’t know what would be considered odd, strange, or suspicious for them.”

That wasn’t a lie, exactly. Monday had been all three of those things to Vivian, but to her family it could be normal. It was easy to twist words around to mean something different than intended but still sound like they answered the question when she didn’t want to tell the truth. This was what so many interrogations and therapy sessions, along with a couple controlling foster families had taught Vivian.

The truth was subjective. A truth to Vivian was not necessarily the same truth to someone else; using this, she put herself in another’s shoes when answering questions that weren’t specific enough to force actual honesty from her lips. Coupling this tactic with staying silent when backed into a corner, she was able to keep herself from telling a single lie.

It was almost fun to watch the frustration and annoyance it brought to those asking the questions, but Vivian could out stubborn a mountain if needed.

“I want to know if there’s anything you found odd,” the detective emphasized. “I’m looking for your opinion on them, not anyone else’s.”

Her opinion on them? That was easy enough. “I think they’re decent people.”

Detective Mersey let out a small sigh. “You’re avoiding my question, Miss St Peter. It makes me think you’ve witnessed something you found strange and just don’t want to talk about it.”

“I find it strange we have a family meal every Monday,” she shrugged. “I find it odd that my room is almost as big as one of the homes I’ve lived in. I find it suspicious that a detective was specifically waiting for me outside school on a day when my last class was let out early because our teacher got sick.”

Vivian was aware she was being rude to someone who could, potentially, make her life hell, but she didn’t care. For years she’d put up with being questioned about her past, and that was fine because it was what she expected, but this wasn’t about her at all, but her biological family.

She hadn’t agreed to talk about them, had she?