Taken | h.s + bey ✔️

6. Basic Girl's Night Shit

Diana's POV

"I told you, I haven't spoken to her since last Saturday," I rolled my eyes at the incompetent cop. He keeps asking me the same dumb ass questions 500 different ways as if I'm lying about not knowing where Kim is.

I watched as he wrote something down. "Look... you're questioning me as if I'm the suspect here—"

"So you admit that this is a case that involves a suspect?" He leaned in over the table and gave me a suspecting look.

I'm about to lose it.

"I DON'T KNOW!" I yelled.

Another cop came and sat across from me and next to the stupid ass cop with the stupid ass questions.

"Ma'am, calm down. We're just trying to help figure out what happened to Ms. Goudeau," he held up a disrespectful hand to silence me.

I was gonna say something, but it would've just resulted in a terrible outcome for me. I let my facial expressions do all the talking.

"Okay, just... start from when you last seen her. What happened that night? Did you get any... eery vibes? Anything set off any alarms?" The second cop asked. Clearly he's more qualified.

"Okay," I began with an exhale, "I was with her Saturday night — because we get together every Saturday night — and we watched a couple movies and a few episodes of her favorite show. There was nothing offsetting. It was just like every other Saturday night. We chilled, drank wine, smo— uh— joked around, you know, basic girl's night shit."

I adjusted the way I was sitting, "I was there until around 9:00pm,"

"You got behind the wheel of a vehicle while under the influence of alcohol?" The stupid cop interrupted.

I gave him a look, "Anyways, in terms of eery vibes, there was nothing that wasn't the usual. Her neighborhood is creepy as fuck but it's always been that way. I hate that she lives there and I'm always dreading the walk to my car when it's night out over there so she walked me out to my car and I waited until she made it back inside before leaving."

The better cop wrote what I said down before speaking, "Can you please walk us through today and what gave you the suspicion that she was missing."

"Yeah, So, before today I'd texted her a news article. You know, the one about that missing girl's body being found— ironic. She didn't respond but I didn't think much of it; we're both busy so when we send each other stuff we sorta just understand that it was seen and that there wasn't enough time to respond," he nodded and I continued, "So today, I was heading over to her place around 5-ish, I called her while I was on the way but she didn't answer. Again, I didn't think much of it because I was heading to see her anyways."

"When I got there... her door was unlocked and she wasn't there but her car was which was the first red flag. She may forget to lock the door while she's there but she never leaves it unlocked when she leaves. Then, I walked into the living room and I immediately knew something was up. The tv was on, a full wine glass was just sitting out, her blanket was on the floor in front of the couch and her phone was on the coffee table! She never leaves her phone! Not to mention there was unchecked notifications from days ago."

I took a moment to recollect myself. Both cops gave me a sympathetic look. I repositioned myself again, "The kitchen... literally looks like a crime scene. The fridge was left wide open, shit had fell over and glasses were left shattered on the floor. I mean... what else could've caused that?" My voice cracked a bit.

"I told her. I told her to lock the damn door and turn on her alarm so this wouldn't happen. I literally fucking—," you could hear in my voice I was holding back sobs.

I used the moment the cops took to write some more stuff down and quietly chatter with each other to compose myself.

"Do you think...." I regained their attention, "that this could be connected to what happened to those other girls? Two black girls go missing in the past couple months— just disappear into thin air— and now my friend is missing too. Could it be the same person?" I chewed on my lip and tried to put on a brave face. One that didn't look like I was about to break down because a small part of me feels responsible.

"We don't know," was all one of them said.

"What's even happening to them? Is it sex trafficking or?" I asked.

One of the cops said something about how he can't tell me anything. I honestly stopped listening to his answer when I knew he wasn't going to give me a straight one.

My god. Who knows what Kim could be going through right now— if she's even still alive! She could be getting tortured, sold, raped, enslaved, in fucking Jigsaw's basement or something.

"Ma'am, we're going to do everything we can to find your friend," the better cop tried speaking in a comforting voice, "Do you have any idea who could've wanted to harm your friend or—,"

"No," I interrupted him, "well, apart from the fucking crazy guy out here snatching up black women... I don't know. I mean, she did just break up with a boyfriend. All her neighbors are old as dirt, she hardly has enemies—everyone loves her," I shrugged.

"You said she just broke up with a boyfriend?" One of them asked and I nodded. His interest in what I was saying peaked.

He clicked his pen and positioned the paper he had to write on it, "What's his name?"

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