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It was just before eight when Fiona made it back to the city, feeling full of vitality and eager to see Jennifer again. Sex with Jennifer was the only thing that could keep her going with only three hours of sleep. She skittered as she walked and felt like she had as a schoolgirl when she was first kissed in front of the lockers. Thirty years later, the feeling remained the same, although she couldn’t fully commit to Jennifer, or any law enforcement woman, no matter how she felt.
When she unlocked her door, she found Jennifer dressed in clothes she had left behind on previous visits. She was sitting in her favorite area, the nook, sipping newly brewed coffee.
“I was getting ready to go.”
“I’m glad you’re still here.” Her heart was filled with happiness.
“So, come on. Give me an assessment,” Jennifer inquired impatiently, looking for details.
“Welllll ...” Fiona protracted the word dramatically. “MO is the same, and it appears that the victims are targeted by physical characteristics, though I think that commonality is too simple. Maybe the perpetrator wants us to believe that physicality is the common denominator to sidetrack the investigation. We are dealing with someone who is intelligent and careful.”
“Hmmm, the person of interest is unquestionably someone who is intelligent. Most of them are, but–”
“But what?”
“Ignore me. I have to do some research before I form my thoughts into words.” Jennifer became quiet for a second. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I think.” She changed her mind fast. “Based on what I know so far, it looks like the killer is female or imitates a female attacker. I need to do some research on it before I jump to conclusions. I have to go and–” she stopped, appearing unsure how to continue, “I want to tell you something important.”
Fiona felt something unpalatable approaching. Uneasiness bathed her soul, and she was convinced that the next statement would carry some type of finality.
“I’m in a serious relationship. I’m engaged to a wonderful man, a doctor. I can’t see you again in settings like this. You’re a distractive force, and I behave in a manner I shouldn’t. It’s not right for you, for me, for all of us. I’m sorry.”
“So, that’s it?” She was piqued with herself, not Jennifer. Perhaps she was also a bit pissed off with Jennifer for having a relationship with a man. If only she could overcome her inane beliefs about female law enforcement officers. Fiona wouldn’t reveal the way she felt for her; her emotions came and went. Her schoolgirl heart was beating inharmoniously and sadness rushed into her veins. Painstakingly, she enveloped her inner world of instability and smiled. She went to Jennifer and kissed the top of her head, knowing that was the last time she would caress her. Her inner self was filled with disappointment.
When the door was locked behind Fiona, emptiness thrummed in her heart. She identified it as regret.
Fiona sat down in the nook area, gazing at the morning view that looked so different from the night before, and although the eastern sun radiated everything in its passing, she only saw the cacophony of the big city. Finality was not agreeing with her. She had to put her thoughts into perspective. What she was going through was minuscule and unimportant compared to others who were faced with the earthly finality of death. A glimmer of hope that they might catch the killer before the next victim was found helped her recover. She tapped her phone a few times before it registered the attempts.
“Detective Andrews,” the voice on the other end conveyed a tiredness and unwillingness to converse.
“Sophie, I’m coming over.” Fiona was determined to get her way. “It’s imperative we make this work for the sake of the investigation. I know people perceive me as arrogant, and you probably think that I’m the biggest asshole you ever met but please put your feelings on hold until this case is over. You can hate me later.” She finally breathed.
“I’m home. Come. I’ll wait for you.” Her verbalization didn’t exhibit the rigidity and hardness of the past few days. Fiona had experienced that firsthand. She knew how Sophie sounded and how she looked at her, so this invitation was huge.
“If I had known it would be that easy to persuade you, I would have admitted I was a big asshole the first day we met.” They both laughed and something tenable was lifted, which had previously kept them from exploring their humanity.
Fiona had been surprised and shocked more times in her life than she cared to count, but Sophie bypassed all other astonishing situations that Fiona had ever found herself in. Of course, she observed and acknowledged Sophie’s physical attractiveness even when she was dressed casually. Yet, when she appeared at the doorway Sophie was the epidemic that wiped out half the population in one wave, she was the spate that came unannounced and stole life, and she was the oligarch’s dream. Jennifer’s image burned and disappeared immediately, and Fiona’s heart forgot the disappointment it experienced when Jennifer had said it was over for good this time. It became clear to Fiona that what she believed she felt for Jennifer were mere suppositions; none of them had been true. She cared about Jennifer and they had a great chemistry, but as soon as she saw Sophie, her former life became unimportant. Was Jennifer in the past already? Conceivably, her reaction was the result of Sophie’s appearance as well. She was wearing a spring dress above the knees with high-heeled sandals that emphasized the shape of her body, and Fiona was taken in in more ways than one.
“Going out afterwards.” Fiona hoped that Sophie detected surprise and not admiration or attraction. Why else explain her plans?
When she entered Sophie’s home, she realized it was in order like the crime homes they visited. It was cleaned of any speck of dust that declared a human habitant. Either she was a perfectionist, although her office desk indicated the opposite, or someone else cared about her surroundings. Her house was, indeed, in a sterilized, bleached, and uncontaminated state. Fiona was one hundred percent certain she was using a cleaning service. Why she thought about it or even cared, she didn’t know. She felt something rubbing against her leg and looked down, forcing her to end the inspection of the interior of Sophie’s home. A fur ball of a cat was loving her by pressing its body to her leg, and Fiona reached, intending to pick her up.
“This is Kiki, and she loves people,” she explained as she grabbed the cat before Fiona acted.
“She is cute,” Fiona replied and stroked the top of Kiki’s head. Fiona looked around again at the interior room, which was unbalanced with a fusion of furniture that created a chaotic scene in an ironic way, the combination of wood, glass and modern strokes of art indicated an imaginative and artsy way of approaching the living space.
“My brother is an interior decorator,” Sophie clarified as she observed the complex look on her face. “Let’s just say that he is a bit creative.”
Fiona wanted to believe that a more sinister scenario existed, so she could erase the attraction that arose within her. She fell flat on her face as Sophie appeared to be a normal individual. She tried to remove the sexy image of her from her mind and concentrate on the pressing issues.
“There is something really obvious about the killing. I’m not sure what it is. I feel that we’re overlooking a detail,” Fiona stated matter-of-factly.
“Let’s scrutinize the crime scene again and maybe we can uncover the detail. Are you ready?” she asked quickly, like she wanted to vacate her dwelling immediately. Was she uncomfortable with Fiona here?
“You did not even give me a tour of your house.”
“Next time. Today you met Kiki and that was an experience all by itself.”
Fiona’s car was recently detailed, and it looked it. Even the air vents where the dust usually nested were spotless, the floor mats were washed, and the windows sparkled. She turned the radio to 103.6 for a bit of music that she found amusing. The lyrics were probably more pleasing to a younger generation although the singer’s voice was fantastic. Rihanna was extremely talented. Her vocals filled the enclosed space and Fiona was unintentionally taken to a place where Sophie was transformed into a sex deity of modern times. She was holding chains and whips concealed from view as she dragged them behind her. The sound of an approaching chain was a slow torture, and the tight leather shorts that engulfed Sophie’s lower body were electrifying. Rihanna’s sweet, honey-like voice kept hammering Fiona’s mind. She forced herself to think about the immensity of the contradiction that finally pulled her out of her daydream. She couldn’t possibly fathom the fact that Rihanna’s saccharine vocals could sing the harshness of sadomasochism and the infliction of pain in arousing sexual pleasure. Although Fiona’s curiosity was augmented a bit thanks to the lyrics and the acoustical oasis that the singer produced, her daydream of Sophie dressed in leather vanished.
“Good lyrics,” she finally articulated, playfully, perhaps hoping to make Sophie respond, but she ignored Fiona’s comment entirely. Was she pondering their case? Fiona gave up concentrating on the road ahead. They were en route to the third victim’s home, which they had only visited hours ago. It was a common practice for her to stop by the crime scene when all the rambunctious activities settled down. Besides, that was when the clarity came to her like a muse to inspire her and compose her best investigation. Granted, Sophie suggested the inspection of the crime scene, but that had been her intention as well. She knew that inspecting anything from afar could lead to false consideration, even today, when technology was leaping to new heights.
She parked the car in front of the victim’s house. A cruiser was still there and would be for a few more hours before all police activity ceased. The female officer, the same one from the morning, was guarding the front entrance to eliminate any trespassing before all evidence had been collected and the scene was wiped clean of fingerprints. CSI tended to drop by hours after the initial gathering of facts, thus the police presence. In addition, it was a departmental policy that was established years ago to prevent the contamination or elimination of evidence that had occurred in an older case where the suspect in a deadly domestic dispute returned to the crime scene and removed the hidden weapon when he made bail. Still, he was convicted based on circumstantial and other hard evidence.
“Ready to put your investigational dogmas to use?” Fiona softly guided Sophie into the house, playfully winking at the guarding officer, who handed her a piece of paper. Fiona glanced at it and placed it in her pocket before Sophie saw the interaction. Another phone number that Fiona would not dial. She could make a collage of all the phone numbers she received. She wasn’t sure why she got so much attention. She never considered herself good looking, although her ex-girlfriends had told her she was sexy and gorgeous. Her short, blond hair, which she tended to tuck behind her ear, used to drive them crazy. She did it out of convenience, to keep it out of her face. Nevertheless, as soon as her fingers casually intermingled with her hair and her smile intensified the dimples on her face, her lover was intrigued and desired her. Fiona’s tactics, although unconsciously used, had no effect on the woman in front of her. She could smile until her muscles hurt and play with her hair, and it would all be to no avail. She gazed at Sophie, promising herself to do whatever was required to get her attention. They entered the house and Fiona put her thoughts aside to concentrate on the details they might uncover.