QR Code Murders: Rap Acts

“You’re sure about this?” Kim asked, a sense of pensiveness and even wonder rose in her voice. “We got her!”

“Her?!” St. Kitts and Darby queried at the same time.

“This whole time we were looking for a female?” Darby asked. Yawquisha captured the reactions of the agents. St. Kitts was a bit more reserved. He sighed with a “hmmm.”

“I’m just not seeing it.” He didn’t make this statement as an objective matter of fact, just an opinion.

“You don’t think girls have the nerve to commit atrocities, St. Kitts?” Kim asked.

“No, I know they can—I just….”

“You have to know one hundred percent that this is our suspect,” Darby said.

Kim didn’t act on premonition or emotions. When she was at Tall K’s parlor, she noticed that there were marks like fingernail scrapes below all of the QR Code as a signature of sorts. She wondered why she didn’t connect the two things in the first place.

Yawquisha continued to video as the detective and agents headed down to the station to interview the suspect. It was like a gust of wind blowing the hot air had almost inhibited the law enforcement authorities.

St. Kitts and Darby stood in the back of the room, wondering what jurisdiction they had there. Kim sat at the table and looked at the suspect in her eyes. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old. She had cold blue eyes and dishwater blonde hair. She fidgeted. Her mental state was like a torrent of thoughts unconnected and a discord ran in between each thought. In all of her attempts to be a thinking human being capable of providing vital information in regard to the case, she looked dazed. Her eyes kept rolling back and forth and she tangled her hair.

“What did you do?” Kim asked evenly.

“I know I don’t need to be here. I know that I have rights. I know I read them. That’s what I did!” Melanie Malone answered back.

“We’re here to work with you. You’ve got a hearty chicken sandwich in front of you and fries and a drink to go with it. We’re just here to—” She motioned for the agents to leave. She didn’t instruct Yawquisha to depart. The vlogger focused her lens on the suspect.

“Don’t worry about her—”

“I know your work. I’ve seen your stuff.” Melanie admitted to Yawquisha. The videoer didn’t take her eye off of her subject.

“Now, we’re all women here. We know all of the challenges that are different from men. Tell me about these cases. What is it that ties you to each of them?”

“You know I came to Delaware when I was twelve years old. I didn’t want to come here. I wanted to come to California. The beautiful Salinas Valley remained my goal after leaving Canada. I told my dad this wasn’t a place for us. He wanted Wilmington to work for Mercier. I didn't want anything to do with the state. I still don’t.”

“Okay, we’re getting somewhere. You wanted to be on the West Coast. Did you have any ties to rappers in Canada before you came here?”

“Some. Most of them were simps who didn’t know how to rap or have good business ideas.”

“What did you think of the rap scene in Wilmington?”

“They were much better than the ones in Toronto. The energy was there.”

“What didn’t you like?”

“I didn’t like the fact that they were getting big. Once they signed to DSMG or decided to go independent I just couldn’t stand to see them leave.”

“So you grew fond of Wilmington.”

“Not the city really, just its rap acts.”