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“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.
“I don’t think anything else I have to say about your appearance is appropriate for my work place.” His voice lowered, and I felt my cheeks flush at all the things he could possibly have to say.
I cleared my throat and sat up. “Well. I doubt I helped much anyway.” I shifted in my seat.
“You did. We actually have something to look for in the database now. The gun, the tattoo…if he’s been finger printed before—which he probably has, then it will come up. It was a man, right?” he checked.
“Yeah. He was in sweats, so I saw…um. Yeah, it was a man.” I answered.
“Okay. Thank you for coming in and making the statement.”
“No problem, I guess. Unless it becomes one. Am I allowed to ask about the case?” I stood up, ready to leave but not ready to be out of his presence. He stood up as well.
“Is that your way of asking for my number?” He came around the desk, and stood so close to me I smelled the mint of his gum and his intoxicating scent again.
I stared into his deep gray globes and my knees nearly wobbled at the intensity of his gaze. This hulking mass of a man was just right there in front of me and all I wanted to do was hang off his body. It was odd.
“No, I would have just asked. I just want to know how things are going, the truth and not the crap on television.” I shrugged.
He smirked and licked his lips again. My god he was so delicious.
I took two steps back, so I could breathe. “I need to get home. It’s been a long day.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“I took the subway, actually.”
I stopped by the door.
“What? Oh
no, let me drive you home. The uh, crazies come out at night.” He grinned and adjusted his badge on his belt, and it drew my gaze down to—oh, I hoped he didn’t do that on purpose.
“Um. You don’t have to.” I started to shake my head. He just held up his hand, and put his gun strap back on. I wondered how one movement could be so sexy.
“No. I insist.”
Chapter Seven: Max
It was one of those days that made me question the job. Maybe I should have stuck with football and went to college.
Then I get back and see all my solved cases, and it all becomes worth it. Being reminded of the children I brought back home, the families I put back together. It put everything into perspective.
