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Cassie was my older sister, but she might as well have been my child for how she acted. I was twenty-nine, and she was thirty-one. From the day we were kids, I had to be the older sibling and the mother, too.
As a teenager, I was constantly driving to bars at the crack of dawn to pick up her drunken ass or to police stations to waste the little cash I’d made waitressing to bail her out. She was an escort, and turning my head the other way a few times was needed as a criminal analyst.
She had moved a year ago to Syracuse with her shit-stain boyfriend. She hadn’t been back to Rochester since then. Well, at least, as far as I knew. I hadn’t heard from her other than receiving some disjointed, slurred texts when she had been drinking or butt-dialed me.
So, why was she calling me now?
She was never short on money. Her clientele were all big wigs that I definitely didn’t want to know about. There were rumors that even my chief had been one of her customers. She’d been helpful to the station on occasion.
At times, she acted as a confidential informant for the Special Victim’s Unit, but I’d heard about her ‘good tips’ for people of interest.
“Cassie, what do you want?” I tried again.
She sighed dramatically. “Okay, Smella. Fine. You’re no fun.”
Still rubbing my temples, I waited for her to continue.
“I need your help. Can you meet me at Eastview? I’m in town, and I really need to talk.”
“Cassie, I’m working. I’m sure if you need a ride to the mall, you can call Emily or Megan. They probably still have your number.”
Cassie started sniffling, her drunken voice going all hiccupy.
“Awe, Foo! You don’t understand, Ella. I need help. Not a ride. I need your ‘piggy’ help.”
‘Piggy’ was what she referred to as my police affiliation, and generally, when she talked about needing my crime scene analyst perks, it had to do with her ‘employers.’
Blowing the hair from my face and focusing on breathing, I finally said, “Fine, I’ll meet you at Eastview when I clear this scene.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Smella! You won’t regr—” I cut her off, ending the call.
Ugh, and here I thought a stinky corpse in a rotting bedroom would be my biggest issue today.
* * *
The parking lot at the Eastview Mall was packed as usual. I tried to find a place for my little car. After being cut off and cursed at multiple times, I finally found a spot in the very freaking back.
Cassie was waiting at the food court. Her curly, light brown hair was neatly tucked into a bun, which always made her look like a shampoo commercial model. She resembled our mother, and sometimes, it hurt to even look at her.
She spotted me and ran over, her huge platform heels clacking on the loud tile floor as she did. Her arms were outstretched like in those movies with someone at the airport running in slow-mo to their loved one.
Abruptly, she pulled back from hugging me. Her nose scrunched in disgust. “Uh, I know I’ve called you Smella since we were kids, but girl, you really do smell today.”
I covertly sniffed my blazer. Sure enough, it had the odor of that apartment building, and I didn’t have to sniff my hair to know that it probably reeked, too.
Damn. A shower hadn’t been an option, so my perfume was going to have to do.
“What do you want to talk about?” I ignored her comment.
She frowned, looking disappointed.
“Ugh, you’re so robotic. You haven’t seen me in a year, and all you want to do is to talk business?”
I saw the flash of hurt in her silvery gray eyes—a reflection of my own—and the guilt set in.
“Sorry,” I said, shifting awkwardly.
My feet were killing me from the damned high heels I had to wear all day, and I just wanted to go home, rip off my bra, and eat cheese puffs while watchingMediumreruns with Mitzi.
