Page 21 of The Pushy Pixies Are Going Down
Lie.
“Mr. Ferguson, Faerie Friends Food Supply doesn’t exist. They’re not a registered business. They don’t have a website. They don’t even have a phone number. So tell me again, where did you find them?”
The horrible man leaned forward and punctuated every word and a finger stab to the table. “I. Have. No. Idea.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
“How do you place your orders?”
“I fill out a form and send it to them through email.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
For fuck’s sake, the guy couldn’t tell a single truth during this interview?
“Alright, write down that email so we can look into it.”
“I don’t have it memorized.” Ferguson let out a chuckle. “I don’t have it on me.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
“Surely you have their phone number saved in your phone?”
“Nope.” He popped his P, a glint in his eyes like he was excited to be pulling one over on Higgins.
Deception.
Lie.
Higgins continued his questioning.
Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.
Every single thing Paul Ferguson said was a damn lie, and honestly, it was starting to give me a headache.
But I pressed on, concentrating on this piece of shit human who was clearly trafficking faeries.
I said I would help, so here I was. Helping.
Not that it would make any difference at all.
Anyone with a single brain cell could tell the man was lying through his teeth.
Chapter Six
Miles
Higgins walked out of the interrogation room, so I walked toward the observation room’s door to meet him in the hall, but he rushed in before I had the chance. Damn, he was fast.
“Thank you for coming, Miles,” Higgins said, offering me a tired and grim smile.
I gave him a nod. “He lied about everything.”
