19 - A Missing Heiress

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The next morning I get Kit dropped off, notebook in hand and we haven't said more than a cursory greeting to each other. I've decided to let her come to me when she's ready. Mrs. Verfain sent a note round to set a time for afternoon tea so she could start work with Kit and I'd informed Kit of her new plans. That had earned me a sharp glare but then it was back to the ignoring, so I figured she wasn't that upset about it.

I hurry to the precinct and pull into the side lot marked "For Police Only" and notice that my hope the other cars here would be a bit more like mine and less like those of the people who visited the precinct was in vain. Sighing, I slam and lock my door before jogging to the steps. I eye the coffee cart but decide being tired but early is better than being awake but late on the first day and forgo it to enter the stairs. I keep a wary eye on the stairwell but no annoying man appears to yell at me, so I figure it's safe enough, and run up.

There are a lot of people milling about as the shift change occurs and the night officers and detectives update their daylight counterparts so I carefully weave my way through the crowds. I draw a few looks, but since the night shift missed my introduction yesterday, I manage to make it to my desk without too many dirty looks. Blue Eyes is already seated and flipping absently through paperwork, but the desk that abuts mine remains empty.

I grab eagerly at the small box that sits on my desk. When it falls away, a simple badge with an ID number and my names in gold letters remains. I pulse a little magic to the badge and my picture appears juxtaposed over it. Grimacing at the photo, I clip it to my waistband and turn to sit on my desk, legs kicking absently.

"You didn't take my advice," A disinterested voice says vaguely in my direction and I turn to find Blue Eyes has sat back in his chair and turned to flip through paperwork while facing me.

I frown at him and it takes him a moment to notice. I barely catch his eyes flicking up to look at me between sheets of paper.

"The clothes," He clarifies, flicking another piece. What he's doing with that many sheets of paper is beyond me. His clothes comment, is not.

I wore a simple red shirt and dark jeans, but rather than a suit or uniform coat, I remained in my leather jacket. The buckles jingle in a comforting manner as I cross my arms. "I'll do just fine without having to dress in a monkey suit, trust me."

He finally pauses to catch my gaze. "Spoken like someone who believes they know what they're talking about."

"The Downwind isn't the only place I've lived." I snort, keeping my answer purposefully vague.

His eyes search my face for a moment before he shrugs. "Your funeral."

He spins his chair back to fully face his desk.

Truth is, this jacket is full of hidden pockets containing ingredients and parchment in case I need to cast a variety of quick spells. When I'd first gotten it, I'd spent weeks enchanting every seam to be bound with the strength of steel instead of thread, not to mention the protective symbols I'd drawn in my own blood for the leather to soak up before I'd sealed it. The jacket was a walking fortress and, yeah, I wasn't about to deny that it was a security blanket I didn't feel like giving up.

Just as I'm starting to get annoyed, a man stalks over and sets down a cup that smells like coffee heaven on the desk that sits touching mine. He flops down a few files and then sits in the chair before he looks up at me. We both freeze at the same moment and I groan as I hop off the desk to collapse into my own chair. It's the asshole from the stairwell come back to haunt me.

"I guess I should have figured the newbie who stole someone's job would be the one to sprint into the stairwell without a care for anyone else." His voice is tired and vaguely sarcastic. I just glare back.

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