A quick two knocks at his door made deputy parish close his current tap on the internet before glancing up expectantly.
"Come in." he straightened his collar and reached for his jacket in anticipation of the Sheriff entering and assigning some new task.
Red curls bounced and swayed as she strode right on in, eye brow cocked and lips curled in a haughty manner.
He almost returned the look out of a mixture of shock and annoyance. He didn't have the patience right now for high-schoolers.
"Miss Martin…"
"Deputy Perrish."
He unconsciously slumped realizing he was in for a new problem or favor for Scott McCall's wolf gang. Regardless, he donned a smile and met her eyes.
"How can I help you?"
Her heels clicked on the linoleum tile as she made her way to a chair opposite his desk and set her enormous bag down. She gave him a sidelong look as she pulled a book from her bag and laughed dryly.
"You mean, deputy, how can I help you."
Considering her bold statement he shook he head slowly and furrowed his brow.
"No, I'm pretty sure I meant-"
"Parrish." She cut him off with a pointed look followed by a quick smile of authority. "Okay, so I brought some books that I think will be useful for our search…"
Blinking he leaned away from her as she started flipping through her aged book and blowing dust from its pages. As he watched her intently turn pages he tried to think of the most respectful to word this…
"Miss Martin, what are you doing here?"
Her eyes darted to his in a short glared of annoyance before her stare softened and she sighed at the inconvenience.
"Didn't I tell you I would help you find out what you are? Do you expect me to do all the research for you during my spare time?"
The deputy blinked twice, dry mouthed as he considered in a shocked stare.
"No, ma'am. I just didn't think you would actually help-"
"Are you calling me a liar then, Mr. Parrish?"
He numbly shook his head.
"No, I just-"
"Fantastic, now can we begin or do you have any more insults?"
"I didn't mean to-"
"Don't mention it." She gave him a quick smile before turning back to the book. His gaze followed her as she bent back over the desk; and for the first time in a very long while, he relaxed.
Relaxing was all fine and dandy then, but this, however was a different story.
"Dammit, Lydia!" he hissed through clenched teeth, ripping branches and leaves out of his way as he charged further into the woods. It had been six months since she had marched into his office and to him, she had never left entirely.
She'd called when he was in the middle of a drug bust and he'd not answered because he was in the middle of handcuffing the suspects. However, upon listening to the message she left him, he had barely dropped his charges at jail before speeding out of town the coordinates she had left him.
She'd said it was a feeling, a banshee one and that he should come immediately. He was always nervous about her "feelings" but she hadn't sounded too worried on the phone. Regardless, he had speed not wanting her to find the body by herself.
The reason he ran through the underbrush now, limbs slapping his face as he charged heedlessly forward, was that when he had arrived her car was almost not recognizable.
The trail of blood he had been following suddenly faded and he looked around franticly, heart pounding through his own uniform.
"Lydia!" his gruff voice cracked as he felt the panic grow heavier.
"Jordan…" it was a whisper, a breath that faded as soon as it had come. He pushed through the bush ahead and dropped to his knees next to her.
"What happened? Who did this? Where is he?" he cradled her in his arms analyzing her injuries. Her head was bloodied from obvious impact and cuts riddled her limbs. His immediate concern, however, was the gash that ran along her side.
"S'okay." She slurred, smiling up at him.
His heart felt the crushing pain of guilt and he held her closer. "I'm so sorry, Lydia."
Her smile was almost mocking as she blinked with effort.
"It's not your fault, I'm okay. Just don't mention it."