The Quentley Murders

PART ONE: THE BEGINNING

IT WAS NEARING 11 PM WHEN VIRIGO Quentley entered the station-sporting a pair of silver cuffs around her wrists and a yellowing bruise on her cheek. As she observed the room of officers, her tongue peeped out and ran along her pierced bottom lip, offering moisture.

While the men at either side of her led her to the reception desk where curly-headed Iris sat, peering up through fingerprint-covered glasses-she smiled warmly at some familiar faces.

'Miss Quentley.' Iris greeted the green-haired girl through clenched teeth, not returning her smile. Virigo had become a frequent visitor of Glasinton Station, often being apprehended for petty crimes such as vandalism or street fights, usually accompanied by her friend Russell.

However, the crimes she was suspected of this time were far more serious-disturbing, even. If she was found to be guilty, Iris would never smile at or speak to the girl again. She would be quite happy to lock her up, despite her youth, and throw away the key.

Yet, as she looked into her deep brown eyes, Iris saw the Virigo she knew behind them. The one who stuck to spray painting for fun, the one who liked exploring abandoned houses with her friends and would have friendly banter with all the officers when arrested.

That would probably never happen again.

Iris focused on her computer and began tapping away at the keys, typing in Virigo's information and various other things such as the time and date.

One of the officers still holding the suspect's arm looked down at Iris from behind his lengthy locs, a few of which had a silver wire coiled around them. He stretched his lips into a charming smile, revealing white teeth and a deep dimple on either cheek.

'Evening, Iris.'

'Jordan,' Iris responded, offering a small nod in return and pushing a few tight, ginger coils out of her face. She shifted her gaze to the other man standing with Virigo who was tensing his jaw as the girl whispered something in his ear then threw her head back in laughter.

'Carlos,' Jordan spoke, gesturing to the waiting room section of the station with his head. Carlos's eyes followed the direction of his head tilt to the corner of the room-furnished with cushioned, maroon chairs, a glass coffee table littered with police leaflets and an out-of-service water dispenser.

Carlos cleared his throat and tightened his grip on Virigo's arm to lead her to the chairs. As they walked away, she looked over her shoulder at Iris, making her shamrock hair sway down her back. One of her eyes snapped shut in a smooth wink as the start of a smirk formed on her lips.

'Is Carter in, by any chance?' Jordan asked, gaining Iris's attention.

She shook her head with pursed lips, 'I'm afraid not. I do have him down for questioning her though, you know, about the situation,' she peered over his shoulder at the girl and frowned, noticing the yellow circle on her cheekbone that was now speckled with purple, 'what happened to her face?'

Jordan cocked his head to the side in confusion then looked at Virigo too-he hadn't registered the purple circle on her cheek when he and his partner had arrested her earlier.

He turned back towards the plump receptionist and shrugged before raising a hand to massage his temple. 'When we went to arrest her, she was in the middle of attacking someone with a bat or pole of some sort. She did quite a bit of damage, but he's at the hospital as we speak.'

Iris stared ahead slack-jawed, processing the new information. She blinked, wetting her dried eyes, and sipped the mug of coffee that was sat atop her desk, the steam clouding up glasses as her stomach churned.

She put the cup back down and took her bottom lip between her teeth, removing her glasses and rubbing away the steam on them with the hem of her blouse. 'I'll email Carter.'