[center][h1][color=82ca9d]"Emerald"[/color][/h1][/center]
[center][h2][color=82ca9d]8:45 AM - Club Carousel[/color][/h2][/center]

Emerald had seen the commotion, or some of it at least. She’d shown up to the club under the light of day to have a drink in peace. Instead, the sidewalk had been crowded with bystanders, streets blocked off with the red and blue flash and glare of police. Naturally, she snuck in the back way and seated herself at the bar, waiting calmly to see what riot pranced on in.

She must admit she hadn’t expected Detective Gallagher in all of his professional huff and puff to swing through the doors, but now that she had seen him, she supposed it was only a matter of time before he had questions for her. And so she waited more, gently turning the contents of her glass round and round and taking a small sort of pleasure in the soft clink of ice against glass.

It wasn’t long as she didn’t expect it to be. She pretended to be ignorant of his presence until he seated himself beside her, curious eyes boring into her despite her attempts to avoid eye contact. “A horrible thing, really.” She commented after a moment.”[i]Murder[/i].” She took a sip from her drink.

Finally his gaze relented and he expelled an exasperated sigh. “Have an particular affinity for roses, Miss Emerald?”

The question caught her off guard, but she answered it nonetheless, figuring it had something to do with the investigation. “Roses? No.” She paused, dragging the silence on with a stalling drink. “Truly I’m more of a tulip girl. Why, you buying me flowers, baby?”

He seemingly ignored her, a fact which she found wholly unsurprising. “You were obviously here last night, did you see anything out of the ordinary?”

“Mm, no, nothing. We get all sorts of shady types in and out of the club— its basically in the job description.”

“Emerald, please, you were in the club, you didn’t see [i]anything[/i] to cause suspicion?”

She rolled her eyes. He was grasping at straws. So many people filtered in from the streets and he knew that. Nonetheless, “What time did the murder take place?” Emerald asked in a weary tone.

“Early morning, no later than three no earlier than midnight.”

She nodded. “Right, I was outside, in the rain, chatting up some poor slip of a girl. Alison I think it was?”

“Alison Fitzpatrick?”

“Who knows?”

Ashley pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re not making my job any easier, you know that?”

“Not my job to— all you need to know is I didn’t do it, and I didn’t see who did it. Now leave me alone, I’ve had enough of the NYPD for the day. For a lifetime even. Can’t a girl just have a drink?”

“Two people are dead, Emerald. Is this a game to you?”

“I don’t play games, Detective. Not my style.”

She felt rather than saw his eye roll, and had to restrain her laughter.

“You promised me information,” He leaned in close, threateningly close as his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “I intend to collect.”

For the first time in the conversation she turned her eyes on him, searching his face. He was angry, uncharacteristically angry. The grimace she was faced with seemed only a facade, a poorly played television role and yet… “You’re breaking my heart, Gallagher. Truly. I suppose I can ask around, ask some of the girls, see if they saw anything.”

He retreated with a relieved breath, seating himself once more. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure, sure. Rat me out to the entire mob why don’t you? Lay me bare in front of a thousand hungry tigers? I probably shouldn’t even be seen with you.” She donned a teasing tone, turning her attentions back to the drink she so heavily coveted just a few hours ago. It now seemed unappealing.

He stood, tucking his shucked coat over a bent forearm. “Now you’re just being dramatic, doll. Keep an ear out, I’m coming back tomorrow.” Ashley paused, turning back one last time. “Oh and Emerald? Don’t call me baby.”

Emerald offered no response, simply waited for the click of the doors behind him before standing and meandering to the center of the club, swaying a little to an imaginary beat. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to care that two innocent city-goers had been brutally murdered just above her, it was simply that she didn’t have the capacity to care. One could only sincerely care about a few things without damaging themselves, taking on everything that crossed ones path would be a waste of mind and a waste of compassion.

She just hoped whatever idiot was killing people would get it out of their system soon and stop drawing attention to the club, it was bad for business to have on-duty officers lingering around like hungry animals.

And that was the horrible thing, murder was bad for business.