Randall: NiceMature

                He’s looking at Alannah as if she’s up on an auction stand.  The next piece he’ll buy and take home to do with as he pleases.  I understand now why his wife was so easily consumed with the idea he was cheating on her.  There is something in his eyes though, something back there, hidden.  Maybe he’s being openly chauvinistic to hide his real hurt.  Does he actually care about his separation from his wife; does his daughter’s death affect him more then he’ll admit?

                He does seem like a logical man, and certainly capable of rationalizing most of his emotions.  Honestly, it seems as if he’s doing the same thing I do.  Looking at the world not through the eyes of a feeling person, but through the eyes of an observer; detached from everything.  Maybe I can get at him through this.  He’s clearly insecure about something I just have to find it out.

                “Excuse me for saying, Mister Waters, but I don’t buy your act.  You sit here, calm and collected.  You look into my eyes and you lie to me.  And yet, despite the fact that I would more readily accept the things you tell me—because honestly, I couldn’t care less about you—I need something from you.  Not personally, but my job demands I find this murderer.”

                Confusion is stamped plainly on his face.  “You come here, inform me my daughter is dead, and then tell me you don’t care about me.  And you still expect me to help you?”

                “If you’d shown any previous indication that your daughters dead saddened you I may have held back on the insults.”

                Now anger.  “I’ll have you know that I loved my daughter!  I loved her damn you . . . ”  His voice cracks and then trails off, consider me the safe cracker.  If, of course, you first consider Waters brain a safe.  I would hardly say it is that secure, however.

                So, he’s showing his emotions now.  He really does care about his daughter, at least.  I feel good about myself, I’ve started getting into people’s heads.  Really started understanding them.  Strange thing is I have no idea what to do next.  No idea what to ask him now. 

                Did I just hurt this man, pull out and show to him his own heart, simply because I can?  Is this an exercise to me?

                From the look Alannah is giving me, it seems I’ve crossed a boundary.  I suppose I understand, Waters is blubbering into his hands like an upset walrus.  She reaches a hand out, but stops just before actually touching him and pats the air.  Grimacing at even being so close to the man, “I think we’ve learned all we can from you, Mister Waters.  We’ll get out of way for now, but I hope you’ll receive us in the future if you we find need to call on you.”

                I’ll have to remember that dodge.  Make them feel good even though they provided no help, and hopefully they’ll help you later.  That is what being nice is isn’t it?  You learn something new everyday.

The End

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