Chapter 2
An odd squeak came from the pile of blankets that lay disheveled all over the mattress. Dirt had jumped on top of the sleeping body and sat there, staring down. Her tiny paws put all of her weight into tiny pressure spots and caused pain to wake up the sleeping woman. She gently shoved the black cat off of her and rolled onto her stomach.
It was still dark outside, which was good. It meant that the woman hadn't overslept. She reached out from under the blankets and picked up the phone that had been laying on the hardwood floor, plugged into the wall. She double tapped the touch screen and it lit up, displaying the time, 4:56 a.m., the date, November 4th, and her background picture, a sparking, bright campfire in the middle of nowhere. That was where she wished she was. Nowhere.
Lost.
Undetected.
Gone.
After a long moment of sitting there, phone slipping out of the tired hand, head and body hidden under the warm blankets, cat trying to jump ontop of her owner to lay on, the woman arose from her slumber.
The moment she put her feet on the cold floor and stood up, goosebumps covered her exposed legs and arms. She only wore a tank top and cloth shorts, her usual pajama attire. The air was chilly and she frowned and
shivered. The heating must have shut off in the night.
She turned and began walking towards the bathroom, weaving in between her bed and her cluttered, techy, desk, but before she made it to the door, her foot collided with something hard and she fell to the floor.
"Son of a…" She growled out loud, "What a great way to start the morning." She looked up to see what had tripped her and was met with a box stuffed with her belongings.
Right. She had been packing her things for the last day and went to bed late last night. She hadn't gone to work, calling in sick, to prepare for her move. Maybe if she had been more awake she could have shoved the box to the side with the others, but she had practically fallen asleep packing it.
She stood up and checked her foot. There would definitely be a bruise, but nothing too bad. Dirt watched her with interest and the woman stared back for a moment before sticking her tongue out at the cat and continuing her walk to the bathroom.
She turned on the lights and looked in the mirror. Her hair was hanging down in her face and was unbelievably messy. She picked up the brush that was sitting on the counter and began pulling it through her hair. When she was almost done, she faltered for a moment. She stared at the reflection of her forearm and her eyes softened in sadness before they hardened with a grim glare. She finished brushing her hair staring at the sink. She hated seeing her scars even if she was the one to put them there. Oh well, it's not like she could do anything about them now.
She pulled her hair into a bun and walked back into her room. She opened one of the boxes she left out and began pulling out clothes for her to wear. A long sleeve black v-neck that seemed to cling to her as if she was going to burn it, a pair of slightly ripped, faded skinny jeans, and a pair of fuzzy, calf high, colorful socks. The usual, basic outfit she chose on her regular days.
She was ready for the day, until her stomach growled. She practically ran to her kitchen and looked through her food choices. She opened the fridge and was met with leftover chinese, a half carton of milk, some fruits and mushrooms, and an old pizza she thought she had thrown out. A bit frustrated, she went to her pantry door and grabbed a bag of steel-cut irish oatmeal.
Getting out a pan, honey, and milk, she prepared her breakfast. It was weird because she used to never be a big breakfast eater, but nowadays she couldn't survive without one. It only took about seven minutes for her to make the oatmeal, combine the honey and milk and oatmeal in a bowl, and sit down on the couch with the TV turned on to a cartoon channel. Adventure Time wasn't very popular anymore, but she loved the silly cartoon and watched it whenever she found it on.
She sat there for about two episodes before she got up and put her dishes in the dishwasher. She had some errands to run and she to stop by the new apartment. She had already made arrangements to move in by tomorrow and she was quitting her little coffee shop job today.
She went into her room and grabbed her fully charged phone before going towards the door. She pulled on a pair of casual, colorful sneakers and put on her leather jacket before walking out the door with her keys in hand. Pretty soon she was out on the sidewalk and leaving her building behind. The coffee shop was twelve blocks away, but it wasn't much. She was used to walking that fair almost everyday. The little cafe didn't open till 6:30, but she should be allowed in considering she was still an employee, even if it was only for a little while longer.
The little bell jingled at the top of the door when she swung it open and entered the shop. A blonde, tall woman gave her a small smile and a welcome.
"Hey Felicia. Glad you're feeling better." The blonde said to the woman. Felicia smiled back and gave a small wave.
"Hey June. Is Chet in yet? I need to talk to him." She asked, referring to her boss.
"Yeah, he's in his office. What's up?"
"I'm quitting." She mumbled, shuffling her feet. Stupid social awkwardness.
"Oh." June said, surprised and a bit sad. "Why? You're our best performer."
Felicia was about to answer when a tall, well-dressed man came up behind her and interrupted. "Yes. I would like to know why." He said.
When the woman turned around, she was met with the same man who had bumped into her two days before. He held up an FBI badge and identified himself as Agent Booth and her stomach dropped. She felt nauseous, her heart rate sped up, and so did her breathing.
Panic attack.
"I- uh. I have some family problems." She lied, well, technically she was telling the truth. She looked back at June and asked, "What's going on?"
"Bobby Ramirez was found dead last week. We're going to need to ask you some questions." A woman next to him, also well-dressed, answered for her partner. She had reddish-brown hair, the same color as Felicia except lighter, and brown eyes.
This was Temperance Brennon. Dr. Temperance Brennon. A woman whom Felicia has admired since she had discovered her book.
"Oh..." Was the only response that the woman could stutter out. She was doing her best act, which wasn't actually that bad. She made sure to part her lips in an act of disbelief, eyebrows to shift and furrow. She looked hurt and in all honesty she did feel it.
Bobby had been one of the nicest men she'd ever encountered and she would probably cry over him once it all passed, but for now, she had to act for her life.
"Way to ease into it Bones..." the FBI agent muttered to the Doctor, who gave him a sideways glance.
"We have knowledge that you had a relationship with the deceased." Brennon continued, turning back to face the young adult, who in turn raised her eyebrows at the statement. She gave a confused look before looking over to June. She glanced back, still with confusion.
"Well, I-I mean... I suppose you could say that?" Felicia wasn't able to act this, she didn't need to. Bobby had tried to start something with her, but she had to turn it down despite how she returned his attraction. She had to. She couldn't just drag some poor sod into a destructive situation as large as hers. "He tried insinuating a relationship, but I had to decline." She answered. Booth was a bit taken back by her skilled vocabulary, but Brennon seemed a delighted.
"Why did you decline?" Booth asked.
Without even a delay, Felicia answered. "I'm moving apartments and leaving the city for a month or so." She half lied.
"What for?"
"The, uh... family problems stated earlier." She replied, shuffling her feet. She put her hands into her back pockets and leaned on one leg. She was still panicking, but letting an already suspicious FBI agent know that wouldn't really end up in her favor. "Is that all? I mean, I still have errands to run before my appointment." She asked, giving her explanation to her rush.
"What kind of appointment?" Brennon asked, which seemed odd. The woman suspected it would have been the Agent to ask something like that.
"Therapy." Was her only word and was about to walk away when the Agent gave her assumption truth.
"What for?" He asked.
"I see a psychiatrist for depression and social anxiety." She answered.
"Is that all?" Brennon pushed, adding more curiosity about the doctor to Felicia.
"Well, that's all I see her for." Her eyebrows furrowed in more confusion.
"Is there something else?" She asked.
"No." Felicia said a bit too quickly. She surprised herself and gave a curt goodbye to the doctor and agent, leaving the two to glance at each other with suspicion, wishing she could sprint into her Boss's office, but she held herself back. She had noticed the way Dr. Brennon stared at her face in confusion and she prayed to whatever god that would listen that the scientist couldn't see the oddities in her facial structure. She continued down a hall in the back of the kitchen area before turning and knocking on an open door. Inside sat the man known as Chet, her boss.
"Oh, hey Felicia. Glad to see you back on your feet." He spoke when he saw her. "Do you need something?"
"Yeah, I'm, uh..." She paused. She loved her job at this place. Serving a beverage she drank too much of and singing on the weekends. She was really going to miss this. It was her perfect place other than being nowhere, but she couldn't be here. She couldn't endanger these people. Swallowing the lump in her throat she continued. "I'm quitting."
Chet practically jumped and stopped writing something to look up at her. "Why is that? Has something happened? Do you not like working here?"
"No, no. I do, it's just," God, she was bad at not tearing up on people. He just looked so hurt and she couldn't stand to look at him. "I have some family problems and am going to be out of town for a while and it's best for me to quit." She sighed out with a shaky breath. "I love working here, but it just won't work out."
Her boss gave an understanding smile. Chet was an old, kind man and knew his boundaries. "Alright, well. I can fill out your last check now and maybe when you come back, you can apply again. We loved having you." He chuckled, thinking over memories of late nights closing with her, Bobby, and June. He pulled out his check book and filled out a check for an about four hundred dollars. Once finished, he handed it to her and shook her hand. She smiled and shook it gently before turning and leaving the building.
She passed by Brennen and Booth interrogating another poor employee. She received another suspicious glance from both of them. She didn't feel like she'd see the last of those two and that wasn't a good thing.
