intense, dreamy look in his eyes.
Get a grip, Odel. Fantasizing about the cop won't keep your ass out of jail.
"I don't live far away. Just a short walk around the block. Besides, everyone knows me pretty well. I can take care of myself."
"If you don't mind me saying.... You're very young to make a career decision, especially one as intense as a counselor."
"I'm a youth and drug counselor, Agent Westin. My background allows me to empathize with them. I understand the patients. It's why I can make real progress with them. Besides, I'm still a trainee counselor on the staff. I’m supervised, though not as much as before." His needling annoyed me. I hated questions about my age. So I was young. He didn't know Walkers aged slower than Humans. I should’ve cut him some slack, but he'd already pushed my buttons. Add to the fact I was beginning to like his company far too much—that broad expanse of chest—it became a recipe for cataclysmic disaster.
I took a long, assessing look of my own, noting his lack of gray or wrinkles. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. "You look pretty young yourself. For a detective...."
Agent Carnarvon smiled behind him, though she didn't meet my eyes.
"Touché, Miss Odel. I guess I deserved that." He flushed a little. "Just a few more questions and we'll be out of your way. Did you hear any gunshots?"
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
"We believe someone witnessed the drop and the killers shot at this person. From the pattern of the damage in the garden, we traced him to the rear entrance of this building. We've checked the building, but all we’ve found were empty offices."
"Have you asked Clem?" Redirection always helped. If I nudged him toward Clem, maybe he'd leave me alone. This was taking far too long for poor Anjelo to survive the cramped closet.
"Clem?" he asked.
"The super. Lives in the basement," I snipped. He should know this. He was the detective, not me.
"Okay, we'll check with him. What time did you get here tonight?" His eyes traveled the room as he spoke.
"Around eight." Not many people hung around at eight, so there'd be no one to confirm or deny it.
"So you didn't hear anyone enter the building in the last hour or so?"
I picked up my ear-buds and he fell silent as they swung from my hand.
"Mind if I look around a bit?" He raised his hands in apology. I figured he was a by-the-book kind of guy and declining such a request would raise further, possibly damning, questions.
"Sure, go ahead." I had no choice. He'd check anyway or get a subpoena and be right back. Poor Anjelo.
My heart clenched when he walked to the closet and opened the door. His fingers searched inside for the lights and flipped the switch. The light flickered a few times, as it strained to connect the electrical points to illuminate the bulb. It succeeded and stayed on. It brightened the closet and haphazard contents in stark detail.
He peered out the window on his left, which sat on the same wall as the windows in my office, and looked down on the garden below. He scanned the shelves and the walls for far too long. Did he sense something in there? I leaned forward, tense. Waiting. Forgetting the silent Agent Carnarvon who waited by the door.
Then, my chest clenched with shock. Anjelo had missed a spot. Right there on the threshold, an inch to the left of Agent Westin's shiny right boot, sat an equally shiny ruby puddle Waiting for him to see it or step in it. I dared not imagine which would've been worse. Thankfully, his feet blocked his partner's view of the evidence.
He completed his scan of the closet interior, after paying special attention to the fake wall sealing off my special storage area. I was sure he'd hear my heart thundering all the way in the closet. If not mine, then probably Anjelo's.
Satisfied, he switched off the light and closed the door, his boot heel missing the traitorous red spot by a breath and a heartbeat.
"Thanks for your time, Miss Odel." He'd seen
Get a grip, Odel. Fantasizing about the cop won't keep your ass out of jail.
"I don't live far away. Just a short walk around the block. Besides, everyone knows me pretty well. I can take care of myself."
"If you don't mind me saying.... You're very young to make a career decision, especially one as intense as a counselor."
"I'm a youth and drug counselor, Agent Westin. My background allows me to empathize with them. I understand the patients. It's why I can make real progress with them. Besides, I'm still a trainee counselor on the staff. I’m supervised, though not as much as before." His needling annoyed me. I hated questions about my age. So I was young. He didn't know Walkers aged slower than Humans. I should’ve cut him some slack, but he'd already pushed my buttons. Add to the fact I was beginning to like his company far too much—that broad expanse of chest—it became a recipe for cataclysmic disaster.
I took a long, assessing look of my own, noting his lack of gray or wrinkles. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. "You look pretty young yourself. For a detective...."
Agent Carnarvon smiled behind him, though she didn't meet my eyes.
"Touché, Miss Odel. I guess I deserved that." He flushed a little. "Just a few more questions and we'll be out of your way. Did you hear any gunshots?"
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
"We believe someone witnessed the drop and the killers shot at this person. From the pattern of the damage in the garden, we traced him to the rear entrance of this building. We've checked the building, but all we’ve found were empty offices."
"Have you asked Clem?" Redirection always helped. If I nudged him toward Clem, maybe he'd leave me alone. This was taking far too long for poor Anjelo to survive the cramped closet.
"Clem?" he asked.
"The super. Lives in the basement," I snipped. He should know this. He was the detective, not me.
"Okay, we'll check with him. What time did you get here tonight?" His eyes traveled the room as he spoke.
"Around eight." Not many people hung around at eight, so there'd be no one to confirm or deny it.
"So you didn't hear anyone enter the building in the last hour or so?"
I picked up my ear-buds and he fell silent as they swung from my hand.
"Mind if I look around a bit?" He raised his hands in apology. I figured he was a by-the-book kind of guy and declining such a request would raise further, possibly damning, questions.
"Sure, go ahead." I had no choice. He'd check anyway or get a subpoena and be right back. Poor Anjelo.
My heart clenched when he walked to the closet and opened the door. His fingers searched inside for the lights and flipped the switch. The light flickered a few times, as it strained to connect the electrical points to illuminate the bulb. It succeeded and stayed on. It brightened the closet and haphazard contents in stark detail.
He peered out the window on his left, which sat on the same wall as the windows in my office, and looked down on the garden below. He scanned the shelves and the walls for far too long. Did he sense something in there? I leaned forward, tense. Waiting. Forgetting the silent Agent Carnarvon who waited by the door.
Then, my chest clenched with shock. Anjelo had missed a spot. Right there on the threshold, an inch to the left of Agent Westin's shiny right boot, sat an equally shiny ruby puddle Waiting for him to see it or step in it. I dared not imagine which would've been worse. Thankfully, his feet blocked his partner's view of the evidence.
He completed his scan of the closet interior, after paying special attention to the fake wall sealing off my special storage area. I was sure he'd hear my heart thundering all the way in the closet. If not mine, then probably Anjelo's.
Satisfied, he switched off the light and closed the door, his boot heel missing the traitorous red spot by a breath and a heartbeat.
"Thanks for your time, Miss Odel." He'd seen
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