2020-07-08 - Is This... a Stick Up?

Just when Abitha thinks she might be in the clear, and be able to go lock up and head home for the night, the door's pushed open and a couple of cops roll in. Tall, wiry blond guy and an Asian dude with a buzz cut and a serious case of swagger. One of their radios goes off as they make their way inside and start glancing around for someone who looks like they might work here; the door bangs shut, and the blond guy flicks his eyes to the camera nearby before starting down one of the aisles.

Mr. Swagger, meanwhile, is cutting right to the chase. He snags a copy of a handheld console game without bothering to glance at the title, and keeps right on walking up to the front counter. Thump as it's slapped down in front of Abitha. "How much for this?" It says right on the box how much it is.

Cops in the U.S. aren't exactly known for their glowing reputation, and anyone with any sense knows there's just some sort of cold feeling one gets when they see law enforcement of any kind pop up unannounced and start waving their... ego around. Abitha is not very different, and being pretty much a slip of a woman didn't really help her case. Her eyes are a little widened at the force of the game being slapped down, and though her mouth opens as if it would ask why he was so rough with the merchandise, the question seems to die before it finds air. She glances down with a half second of glance, adds tax mentally, or maybe simply by memory.

"$38.13." is her clipped response, staring at Mr. Swagger with huge green eyes. His buddy doesn't even get a glance.

The other cop is still wandering the aisles with apparent aimlessness. His radio goes off now and then, but other than that and the steady thump of his boots, he doesn't make a sound.

Mr. Swagger keeps his eyes on the girl behind the till, and uses the tip of his tongue to clean something out from between his teeth as he waits on a number. He's built like someone who regularly lifts, and also like he lost a battle with acne in his youth and never really recovered. "Thirty eight dollars, thirteen cents," he repeats, and reaches for his wallet. His hand has to brush over his gun to get to it. "I want to know who you sold a PS4 to last week." He spells out PS4 slowly, flicking his eyes back up to her like he thinks she might not get what he means.

"Guy came in looking for one. Recognise him?" It's his wallet he pulls out, but not cash. Not yet. A picture, instead. It's unfolded and pushed across the counter, turned so Abitha can look at it. Pretty blurry, but it's a heavier set man that she might remember coming in. Didn't seem to know (or care) a whole lot about gaming. Pretty obviously had other purposes for the console.

Oh, ok, so he was actually going to pay. The emotions play in sequence across Abitha's face: relief, forced cheeriness, then a slight concern again. She was reaching for her mouse to bring the sale system to life, as if she were actually going to honor the request, but Swagger can likely see her mood switch to curiosity. You don't just hand gamers a puzzle.

"Why? What'd he do?" And then details sort of catch up and reach her buffer. Her mouth opens again, but she closes it almost immediately, gears turning. Swaggart... (That's what Abitha's mentally naming this guy... Until she glances at his badge a moment after she does that...) He knew this dude bought the system here, and actually what it was... There were questions, but she was gonna try them one at a time while she had a moment to think. She just goes into the point of sale in the meantime, thinking to actually capture the purchase first.

H. Liu says his nametag. And really, aren't all cops swaggarts? He hasn't actually gone for the money yet, but flashes her a toothy grin when she asks him that question, and tips in a little closer. Depending on her tolerance for personal space, maybe a bit too close. "Just answer the question, ma'am." She's under no obligation to do so, of course. He doesn't have a warrant, and it's therefore technically none of his business, unless she's feeling charitable.

His buddy decides, at this point, to wander on over. Thumbs hooked in his belt, he's also got a bit of a swagger on him. Though he's built more wiry, and looks a good deal younger. Less sure of himself here. He hangs back a bit and watches to see what happens.

Personal space issues? Abitha? Absolutely. Yes. Check the box. She visibly tilts her upper body backward and away from him, having to put a foot back to not just fall backward, and glad there was at least a glass counter between them. But of course, there was always one downside to her personality. Her attitude.

"Sorry, what question?" Her lips lift in another forced smile, looking slightly nervous, probably instantly regretting being a smartass. The second cop now was not really helping the intense aura she was feeling here, and her quick glances back and forth between the two was betraying her anxiety easily. She'd stopped trying to click the mouse when she'd had to dodge Mr Bubble Invader.

"This guy," Liu repeats, tapping the picture with a stubby forefinger, no longer grinning. He nudges the printed out photo closer to Abitha. "I want to know if you recognise him. I want to know his name. Credit card information." His buddy's radio goes off again, something about a domestic on Elm, but when isn't there a domestic happening on Elm?

"Look, lady," the rookie pipes up, "we don't got all day here, okay? Just tell us what we need to know, and we'll be out of your hair, okay?"

"I mean, yeah, I think he bought something here. I'm not sure what his name was." Abitha's palms were lifted in an nonthreatening manner, innocent, even as her mind quests outward to try to lift the surface feelings of the men. She pulls back as quickly as she can, trying to find plausible excuses, "But like, credit card info? I don't have access to that." A bald-faced lie given her technical skill and the fact she was actually the owner. But maybe the cop might not actually know that. And playing dumb seemed to have worked before. "Sorry, I can't be more helpful." Again, another lie.

The rookie seems none the wiser about Abitha's messing with his head, and continues to hang back from the pair, fiddling with an old Dreamcast controller she has for sale.

Harvey leans in a liiiittle bit closer, and for a moment. Just a moment there, it looks like he might reach for his weapon. Which, of course, would be thoroughly unwarranted, since she's apparently unarmed and has done nothing to incite violence of any kind. Though she must be aware by now, that these guys aren't operating under the normal rules for cops. "Yeah. I'm sorry, too, ma'am. You really should've helped us out while you had the chance." He collects the printout, folds it back up without looking at it, then shoves the game cartridge at her hard enough to have it skittering off the edge of the counter and onto the floor. "You have a good night."

And he pushes off the counter and hitches his chin to his partner in an indication that it's time to go.

Abitha leans a liiiiittle bit further back. There's even a brief glance at the guys mouth, like she might have caught a whiff of his breath and found it... Well, if you drink coffee and eat donuts all day, you probably had stank mouth. She blinks after the statement, though, even as she neatly snags the cartridge box before it can hit the ground.

"Wait, what?" is the genuine question Abitha asks to Harvey's back as he starts to go, the way he phrased that having really no way to parse other than a threat. She wasn't really looking for much more of a conflict here, but sometimes a mouth moves faster than a mind.

Harvey doesn't look like a donut eater, but he also doesn't look like someone who takes dental hygiene all that seriously, which is the more crucial piece there. He isn't stopping, and neither is his buddy. Though the rookie turns to give Abitha a brief, and almost apologetic look as they turn to go. "Unit 409, in service," Harvey says into his radio as they step out the door. Then the pair is gone, and moments later the sound of their cruiser can be heard peeling off onto the street.

Wide-eyed, watching the men go, Abitha slowly starts to reach for her computer, confused, maybe a little spooked. Mid reach, her hand changes direction and makes a twisting motion aimed at the front windows. The thumbturn on the lock of her shop spins and the bolt snaps into place, sealing her in. She continues to stare at the door for a few more moments before she turns on her computer, pulling up the video, saving and extracting it, typing up as many details as she can remember, then uploading it to her Google account.

The information now offsite for safe-keeping, she turns and lifts a hand, smacking the light switches to kill the overhead fluorescents to the shop. As she was disappearing into the back room, heading for the doorway that led to the steps up to her loft, she was pulling out her phone.