The look he gave me was one of amusement and something else I couldn’t place. I just tried to avoid his eyes, because they were so damned captivating. The kind that literally make your stomach become a world class gymnast, flipping all over the place. Instead, I looked at the deep ridge of his brow, and the sharp definition of his jaw. But he looked right in my eyes and I couldn’t look away. He was just so…
“That’s understandable. Why don’t you sit down?” He gestured to the chair across from his desk.
Once I did, I looked around a little bit. There were some open boxes, and the place was pretty bare. I wondered why; he seemed to have enough personality.
He leaned in front of me on the desk. I clutched my purse strap and looked up at him. That was when I noticed how he was looking at me; I mean, my body. It wasn’t much, I was in shape, but my hips didn’t match my small frame. That was all I had going for me, since I was an average B cup.
I managed to stare back at him, not knowing if I should just start talking. But he didn’t seem to want to look away either. It was like we were in a standoff or something.
“You stare a lot.” He broke the silence.
I swallowed nervously. “Sorry. You’re just good looking. For a detective, I mean. Usually they’re…never mind.” I tended to ramble and have no filter when I was nervous. Obviously.
“Okay then. Well, twenty-four hours ago, I was a regular cop. But look, let’s get this statement down while you’re in the talking mood.” His grin was more to himself, and made this slight dimple appear in his left cheek. The odd swelling feeling in my body was weird, to say the least.
“Okay.” I nodded with a slight smile.
He walked around his desk, and I could breathe better for sure. But it wafted his scent my direction and I nearly got up to sniff him. Goodness, it was like rough cologne mated with his natural scent and made an entirely new being. I had a keen sense of smell too, part of the job as well. It helped to know the difference between sour urine and salty urine—one was liver failure; the other was simple dehydration. I got off my mental tangent and focused on him again. He got out a pen and pad and looked at me expectantly.
“No tape recorder?” I tried t
o make a joke.
“Not this time. I just need an initial statement. When I hear more from the ME and the criminologists do some shit with their degree, I’ll see what we’re dealing with.”
My eyes go wide as I blink at him. “What…what could we be dealing with? That stuff on the news could be true? Because I was following the story since that first body turned up and—”
“Rose,” he held up his hand and stopped my rambling. I blushed deep with embarrassment, thinking I annoyed him or something. “I don’t want you to stress yourself out. You look like you’ve had enough to deal with today.” His eyes drew down to my scrubs. I nervously crossed my ankles and sat up straighter. At least I was wearing foundation. The rest of me…I was sure he had more beautiful women throwing themselves his way. I knew I needed to stop staring at him like there was even a sliver of a chance…
“Right. Sorry.” I took a deep breath.
“Okay, so I was walking Parker, my Lab. And all of a sudden, he goes crazy and runs down this um, tunnel thing? I don’t know. When I get there, he’s barking down these two guys. When I get there, the victim I guess is like on his knees and he’s begging or something and the other guy is in a dark blue hoodie; more navy like, and he has a silver gun. Looked like a .380 ACP.”
I opened my mouth to continue but he interrupted, “you know guns like that?” He stopped writing and raised a brow at me.
“Yeah. Army brat. Anyway, he has the gun and then sees me and I—” I stop as a gasp stifled my throat. It all became clear to me then, and I felt the color drain from my face. “Oh god, it was all my fault.”
My hands covered my face as I try to breathe normally.
“Rose? What was your fault?” He leaned over the desk and searched my eyes.
“I—what if he only shot him because I was there? One guy that saw his face, fine. But another witness? What if…”
“Rose, don’t go off on that tangent. I promise you, nothing happened that wouldn’t already have gone down, even if you weren’t there. This is more likely than not a serial murder, same guy and MO. I don’t want you to beat yourself up like that at all. Are you okay to continue?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Well, there isn’t much. When I saw the gun I ran, Parker was right behind me. When I was a few hundred feet away, he…he shot. Oh, um, I called 911 as I was running. That’s it.” I blew out a pent-up breath and he stared back at me when he finished writing.
“Do you remember anything about his face at all? Anything that can make up a sketch?”
I tried to think, but I only saw the side of him covered by his hood. “No. Sorry. I have a photographic memory for numbers. But I’m usually good with faces, so I can match them up with charts. But I didn’t even see a thing…oh, he had a tattoo on his hand.” I point to the back of my hand, “on the back. It was a big triangle. Nothing else. Pretty shitty tattoo in my opinion.”
Detective Jordan stifled his laugh as he looked at me. He pursed his lips and nodded. “I have never met with a witness like you.” He smiled wryly.
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” I shrugged. People have told me I was different, but I just thought they didn’t appreciate my weirdness. Dad said I was just unique. I stopped thinking of my past before I became a downer.
“It’s a compliment.” He licked his lips and scribbled a few things down. He stuffed it in one of his folders and met my eyes again. “You know guns. You have a pretty good memory. I just mean…You’re cute.”
My heart skipped a few beats before I could respond. “Just cute?” I feigned being hurt. He chuckled, a deep sound that went right to my weak knees.