Page 53
Story: Jagged
"Her family is from an area of Lisbon that I'm quite familiar with." She smiled and glanced at me when we paused at a red light. "I'd like to talk to her again. Her artwork is incredible. Does she have any idea?"
"Yes and no."
"It's nuanced. Once she gets officially noticed, she has no idea how hard it's going to hit." Clem shook her head, the passion in her words matched her affect. "It'll happen for her."
"You really like art and books, don't you?"
She nodded. "Five favorite things. Art, which includes books. Forensics. Travel. Languages."
I waited for her to share the final one, but she didn't. "What about the fifth?"
"It's inappropriate to share that one at the moment," she said, rather tersely. "What are your favorite things?"
"Um…" I rolled with it. "Skateboarding. Street art. Tattoos—"
"I noticed you have many," Clem said with a smile muted by the way she ran her teeth over her bottom lip. "How many?"
"Um…" I glanced at my exposed arms. "I can't remember. A lot. More than forty. Mostly on my arms. A few other places."
"Does each have meaning?"
"Not all of them. Some are just silly. Like the one I just got is the X from The X-Files show out of the 90s. Did you ever watch?"
"Of course. Anyone who loves forensics would watch that. I like it. Not enough for a tattoo but enough," she said while smiling. "What about Criminal Minds? Watch that?"
"I did until I started to live it a little bit."
"Right." She tensed briefly. "Sometimes I forget you're a cop."
"Me too." I laughed when I said it. "You live it too, just differently."
"You were a uniformed police officer first, right?"
"I was. Yeah."
"Do you like being a detective?"
"Sometimes. Right now, I'm questioning it a bit. The uncertainty, having to coordinate with people longer term. I was better at patrol. Things were temporal for the most part and the job was clear."
"The predictability of it?" She glanced at me as we exited the center of the city for the highway that would lead us west.
"Somewhat, yeah. It was predictably unpredictable, but it was expected, you know? I had shifts, started my day, ended my day, passed things on to the next. When I wasn't there, I knew someone was taking care of it. Now, sometimes I hardly work, sometimes I get called in on a Sunday, the FBI or these P.I.'s are calling me random times whenever. The texts. Or on the total flip side, nothing at all. No leads, nowhere to go, no clear direction." I lifted my shoulders in a heavy shrug. "I've had enough lack of direction in my life, you know? Walking the beat gave me something clear. A mission so to speak. Cold cases make me feel just that. Cold."
Clem sat quietly for a moment while listening to me. "What about patrol made you warm?"
"Helping people, I think. Actively like in the moment." I ran my fingers through my hair and removed my hat. "It wasn't always good. Like when we had the riots and insurrection or during protest times. That's always hard, but the average times… I like it."
"Can you go back to it?" She glanced at me when the road cleared for us to coast on our way to Sequim.
"I can if I want to."
"Give it a good think. My mom used to say that all the time." She smiled when she said it.
"That's really cute." I chuckled while considering it. "Is your mom still around?"
"She is. She teaches linguistics at the University of Washington in her retirement. Quite admirable."
"It is. Do you have a good relationship with her?"
Table of Contents
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- Page 53 (Reading here)
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