TRUCE | D. Hargreeves

vi. | esquire

vi. | esquire 

                    "DETECTIVE PATCH?"

Knox was dressed in professional wear, complete with a white blouse and black slacks. Although her head was throbbing with the headache of a hangover, her hair was perfectly curled, and she had makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes. She stood at the empty space in front of Detective Patch's desk.

Patch herself was a pretty woman - with long dark hair and nice skin. She was sat at the table, head dipped into a file of paperwork. At Knox's entrance, she glanced up, revealing two brown eyes and furrowed brows.

"Yes?" She asked, obviously confused at Knox's entrance.

The two were in the middle of the police station floor, staring at each other silently while officers and detectives moved around them. Quickly, Knox got a look at Patch's desk. Minimal personal mementos adorned the surface - a birthday card with cursive handwriting (probably a mother's gift), a keychain shaped like a rabbit foot, and a pencil with gnaw marks on the eraser. She decided it would be easier to treat Patch as a business partner rather than a friend.

Knox stuck out a hand and plastered a smile on her face. "I'm Vienna Morris. We spoke on the phone earlier." She used her mother's name instead of her own, fearing that Patch would look up the alias and call bullshit. She also added an American accent to her words, changing the tilt and sway of the letters in her mouth.

See, Knox Morris was many things. Smart, beautiful, punctual. But she wasn't by any means a real lawyer. She just knew how to fake it, and she hoped she was good enough to trick Detective Patch without any hiccups.

"You're Diego Hargreeves's lawyer?" Detective Patch asked, not able to hide the surprise from her features. "I though he said he didn't have one."

Without asking, Knox sat down in the chair next to Patch's desk and crossed her legs. She lowered her voice comically and leaned in as if she were telling a joke. "Well, I'm sure you know this, but Diego Hargreeves is a little bit of an asshole."

A shocked laugh spilled from the detective's mouth. She nodded her head and looked back down at the file in front of her. "I have a few words I'd use to describe him, yes. I'm glad you see the same way I do." She eased back in her chair and watched Knox carefully. "Tell you what. If you can give me one good reason not to lock him up for thirty days on a misdemeanor charge, then I'll let you take him."

Excitement bubbled to Knox's chest, but she kept her face straight, not allowing anything through. If she could play this off just a little longer, she would be in the clear. "I can give you two," she smirked. "One: he's a pain in the ass. Two: he's a pain in the ass with the ability to take down almost anyone you throw at him. If he's put in general population, he'll inevitably get in a fight. Since he's your arrest, you'll be in charge of the clean up. You know, the paperwork, phone calls, reassignment of jails. Sounds like a lot of time you could put somewhere else."

Sure, Knox Morris was not a lawyer. She was far from it, actually. In school, she'd focused on management and advertising. While this was far from law, she had learned how to appeal to other parties - meaning she could hold herself in a conversation, if necessary.

Detective Patch regarded Knox with a stoney disposition. Her eyes were narrowed, her jaw was clenched, and she was spinning a pencil around in her grasp. Hoping the sweat on her forehead wasn't too obvious, Knox leaned back in her chair, a smile playing at her mouth. Did she seem too cocky? Was she playing too confident?

The answer came in a smile. "Alright," Patch drawled, "I'll admit those were good."

Knox winked and smiled. "I know," she said, holding back the anxiety in her stomach. If she could keep this going, Diego could get out with no charges.