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I smiled at him timidly when we arrived, and he slung an arm around my shoulders and walked with me that way into the department.
Five minutes later I was having my fingerprints run through a fancy machine.
“I guess I thought this would be with an ink pad,” I said to them as they waited patiently for me to get done.
I did all ten of my fingers, and for shits and giggles, even the palm of my hand.
“We’ve moved into the twenty-first century,” Downy laughed. “I don’t think they’ve done an ink pad for the fingerprints since I was a rookie.”
I was a little more bummed about that than I should be.
“That sucks,” I admitted. “I was kind of thinking it’d be cool.”
Downy laughed and tugged one of my curls. “I’m sure that we could scrounge some up for you.”
Laughing now, Lock went through the same song and dance as me, giving his thumbprints.
“They don’t have this stuff on file?” I asked curiously.
“They do,” Lock said. “This is more for expedience.”
Downy went with us into a detective’s office next, and I was surprised to find an officer I knew in it.
“Officer Sage,” Downy said to the woman behind the desk. “This is…”
“Saylor!” Detective Sage, better known as Anna to me, smiled. “What are you doing here?”
I waved but stayed where I was sandwiched between the two men.
“Sadly, it’s not under as fun of circumstances as the last time I saw you,” I admitted.
The last time I’d seen her, I was handing her a birthday cake she’d ordered for her daughter’s fifth birthday.
This time? I was handing over a bunch of masturbation pictures.
Detective Sage listened intently, even went through the pictures with Downy as Lock and I sat in the seats across the desk from her.
I studiously avoided looking at the desk. In fact, I chose to stay focused on my hand, and the way it looked so small in Lock’s hold.
He had such big hands. His fingers practically twice the size of my own…if not more.
In fact, those fingers could crush mine if they wanted.
Not that they ever would, of course.
But he had so much contained power in his grip that it would be possible for him to do.
“This picture looks like it was taken at the accident scene itself,” Detective Sage suddenly said. “As if he was there. The picture on the screen is too clear for it to be a photocopy.” She looked up. “Did you see anybody at the scene?”
“Would’ve been before the ambulance got there,” Downy said.
Lock frowned hard, his eyes opened and unfocused on the world around him as he thought back to the accident that he’d been having a hard time forgetting since yesterday.
He’d woken up from a nightmare the night before, flushed and angry, and all he’d said the next morning was that he was dreaming about the crime scene.
“I remember a car stopped on the top of the overpass and a young man looking over,” he began. “But the angle is all wrong on the photos. If it’d been him, the pictures would’ve been from above.”
Downy leaned his broad shoulders against the wall as he said, “Man could’ve walked down while you weren’t paying attention.”
