Page 1
Story: Jagged
Chapter One
"They called her Protein Heather 'cause she spent most of her days in the yoga studio wearin' leggings and preachin' about the benefits of plant-based protein."
I stared at the woman in front of me as she sucked on the sloppy end of a rain-dampened cigarette. She propped her elbow on the arm she lazily left draped across her middle.
"Protein Heather…" I repeated. "That's the only recollection you have of the victim."
"Protein Heather." When she said Heather, it sounded more like Heath-uh. She drew deeply on the stick and glanced at me. "That's what I got. Not easy to forget. You got my dime?"
"You think that information is worth me dropping money in your palm, Bernice?" I folded my arms over my chest and cocked a brow at her. "Do you even know me?"
"I know you wan'cha information an' I gave it to ya." A frown met her edentulous mouth. "Fork it over."
"Give me something to go on first."
"Protein Heath-uh!" Bernice waved her arms wildly as her frustration grew. "It's what I got."
"It's not anything at all. Where did she hang out? Who were her friends? How can you call yourself the mayor of the park and not know everything about everyone you people-watch all day?" I whined at her, dramatically and ridiculously, in the way that always seemed to shock her into calming down.
"That's what I got an' I ain't got nothin' more." She turned her nose in the air and snorted.
"Well, then neither do I." I flicked the brim of my ballcap and turned on my heel.
Bernice said nothing as I headed off down the street in the familiar stalemate that'd snared both of us in our usual way. She'd crack eventually, and I'd get the long-sought information in no time at all.
I returned to the station not long after with nothing save for a cold soda gripped in my palm and a hot pretzel between my teeth. A few of the uniformed officers nodded to me as I trudged past on my trek down to my office—the farthest one in the building. In my near-decade on the job, Cold Cases always landed in the farthest recesses of the unit. Part of the perks of the job belonged to the quieter digs of the back office. The only person I saw on a daily basis this far out was a shy Criminal Intelligence Analyst named Rosie. We never spoke, but we always shared a nod or wave in our crossings.
"Did you bring me one?"
"Nope." I hopped up to sit on the desk where my partner in anti-crime took up space. "Did you bring me coffee this morning? No. You didn't and so I get to eat this mustard covered ball of bread all by myself."
"Asshat." Zay rolled his eyes at me. "I'm starving. Did Bernice talk to you?"
"Barely—you have ketchup on your I.D. tag, by the way. Zay-splat is now your name." I pointed at it, and he smacked my hand away to swipe at it with a napkin. "How many hotdogs did you eat, today?"
"Four. That truck out front is deadly." He snorted at me. "How many pretzels did you eat?"
"Two. And some fries. Perhaps a taco or two." I tapped my bottom lip with the cap of my soda bottle. "Or three."
"Ew." He scoffed, then tried to hide a chuckle. "Three tacos in one day? Skank."
"You know it." I tore off a bite of the pretzel then handed the rest to him. "I'm a taco loving sapphic."
"Duh."
"Apparently, our last vic carried the nickname Protein Heather which was some sort of stab about her plant-based lifestyle. I feel mildly offended because plants are everything." I slid from the desk, then dropped down to sit in the chair on the other side by the banker boxes stacked next to it. "Also, it's my turn at the desk. Why don't we have two?"
"Because Scully never got a desk. Only Mulder. I'm Mulder." He folded his arms behind his head then crossed his feet at the ankles.
"Don't even." I pointed at him and narrowed my eyes, then kicked the wheel of his chair. It slid out from under him, and he caught himself just in time. "That was for the 90s-born misogyny."
"I was kidding! Wait—do it again. If I fall, I can get workman's comp."
"Asshole." I rolled my eyes, then slapped a file down in my lap. "I'm sure Walsh would love to hear that."
"He'd laugh."
"Stop acting like a fool and get to work already." I nodded to the laptop beside him. "We need the list of folks who worked this case."
Table of Contents
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