Quote:
Originally Posted by
lazykitty 
The only external reaction to the woman's words was the slight, subtle cynical raising of an eyebrow. This one was good, he had to admit. He almost believed her for a second as he released her hand from the handshake. But, it did cause a question to come to mind. "Ronan Carter. Have you been read your rights yet, Miss....?" he replied, providing the woman with yet another opportunity to provide her name. He already knew it, of course, thanks to the slip of paper Alexa had handed him, but he wanted to retain the air of politeness by letting the woman introduce herself. He let her further comments go by with only the slight crinkle of his nose at the tackiness of it all. Someone wanted people to know they had money. And yes, he realized the irony of thinking that, but there was a big difference between appreciating convenience and good construction and what she was describing.
While he was waiting for her to answer his question, he took a seat in the chair across from her, placing the file in his lap with the name-side facing the ceiling.
“Call me Betty, dear.” The old woman offered, her eyes darting from corner to corner. Where was her grandson, Henry? He’d been at the house. She needed him to get the roast out of the oven in 15 minutes. Oh dear oh dear.
”My rights?” Is that what that young man had been talking about earlier? It was all a blur to her now. She’d been so distraught. So in PAIN. Harold. Dear sweet dead Harold. Never to try her pot roast again. He always liked her gravy. OH HAROLD.
Hang on!
Just a minute, sugar!” Betty suddenly enthused. She shuffled through her magically extended bag and pulled out a tray of cookies.
“I was baking when the nice gentlemen came in. Would you like to try some? They’re still warm.” And meant for Henry but here she sat in a cold room.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
TakemetotheBurrow Child indeed. Emilia did her best to look all sorts of innocent and moved around to stand opposite the older man, offering him a polite smile. "Emilia Espinosa, Mr. Manning. Terribly sorry you had to come in like this, but I do so appreciate you taking the time. I understand you're a very busy man, so let's just go through things one more time and we'll both be on our way." And honest to goodness the brunette really did look like she was gutted for making the man sit in this interrogation room, she did. "But first, you've been read your rights and are fully aware of them, yes?"
“Now we’re talking.” George eased back in his chair and gave her a smug look.
“Bout time you all started to recognize what a busy man I am. They read me those rights, yeah yeah. Load of hogwash. Wasting their time with the wrong guy.” He stressed the last part, his tone growing impatient.
Waste his time. Waste his time with a child. Was he not worth any of the big heads?
“Like I already told you, sugarlips, I dunno nothin’.” That was his story and he was sticking to it.