Thanks again to my friend tarheelverteran for the review, and thanks to princessesmeralda for the story alert! :) I think this is my favorite chapter so far. Hope you enjoy, and please R&R!
Chapter Three
The train had been moving for an hour, and the thought of a possible thief had the quartet squirming in their seats. Renae had withdrawn a notepad from her backpack and sketched a schematic of the railcar they were in. She had then numbered the seats, and on a separate page wrote information on the passenger that sat in the numbered spot. Natalia was discretely watching over the female arson investigator's shoulder, reading the scribbled data and making mental notes for herself.
When Renae was about halfway through the passengers, she stopped writing and slowly turned to look at Natalia. "I can feel you watching me, you know."
Natalia gave a sheepish smile and recoiled back towards the window. Asshole was obviously on Renae's bad side, and that was a side that Natalia definitely never wanted to be on. Well, did Renae even have a good side? The CSI did not know.
"For fuck's sake, she's just doing her job." Asshole's voice was low and dark, almost like a growl. "Settle the hell down."
Renae glared at Asshole, and then looked at her watch. "When's the last time you ate?"
"None of your goddamned business," Asshole replied.
"Sorry, but you're getting grouchy, and that usually means you need to eat something."
Natalia didn't have to read Asshole's face to feel his annoyance; he was oozing it. However, Asshole relaxed his shoulders, dug into his backpack and pulled out a small device. He then pricked his finger, drawing blood.
Ryan's eyes drifted over to the other man. "You're a diabetic?"
"No, I just like to fucking poke my fingers full of holes and let myself bleed for fun. Of course I'm a fucking diabetic." Asshole glanced down at the reading on the device. "Oh what do you know, my levels are fine. I guess the grouchiness is just an effect of sitting near you, Renae."
Renae shrugged. "Was worth a shot."
The two CSIs shared a look in preparation for all hell to break loose. Much to their relief, Renae and Asshole sunk back into their seats and resumed what they had been doing. Ryan and Natalia both expelled a breath and looked across at the other passengers.
"Do you think somebody stole my iPod?" Natalia asked in a whisper.
"It wouldn't surprise me." Ryan leaned forward on his knees. "There are some pretty shady people on the other side of the aisle."
Natalia followed his gaze to the four people squished into the seats across from them. One man was in his late fifties and had charcoal hair flecked with white. He wore a black Armani suit, and carried a leather briefcase that probably cost as much as the suit. Across from him was a woman of oriental descent who wore a feminized version of the same suit, except it was matched with a pencil skirt and red stilettos. The other two passengers wore suits as well—although theirs' obviously hadn't cost more than two hundred dollars, unlike the fancy-looking laptops sitting on their laps.
"Like, who wears Armani on a train?" Ryan shook his head, looking down at his own clothing, which consisted of a windbreaker, a t-shirt, jeans and converse shoes.
Natalia had thrown on a long-sleeved shirt and comfy pants that morning before leaving for the lab to catch the shuttle to the airport. The two then eyed their arson counterparts. Asshole was in a similar getup to Ryan's, and Renae wore worn-out jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Definitely not Armani-standards, but certainly train appropriate.
The pair of arson investigators must have sensed eyes on them, as they both turned to view the man in the expensive suit.
"I couldn't afford that suit even without a kid." Asshole scoffed, and redirected his attention to Renae. "You on the other hand..."
She gave him another kick to the shin. "Sorry, stilettos and skirts aren't part of my wardrobe. And expensive or not, I've never seen you in a suit."
"But I've seen you in a dress. Most people can't say that." He nudged Ryan. "Can you imagine her in a dress? Hot as hell."
Renae turned to Natalia. "I swear, the whole Girls are from Venus and Men are from Mars thing isn't a load of shit."
The CSI nodded in agreement. "This is what we get for working in a mostly-male work force."
"Want to get away from these animals and go scope out the railcar behind ours?"
"Sounds like a great idea to me,"
The two stood from their seats, and squeezed into the aisle.
"See, Renae, this is your problem. You don't know how to take a compliment!" Asshole called after them as they walked towards the opposite end of the car.
Renae flipped him the bird, and she disappeared behind the door after Natalia.
The railcar they stepped onto had a different seating arrangement. The seats all faced in one direction, allowing the two women to view every passenger's face from where they stood. Slowly they made their way down the aisle, taking mental notes on the inhabitants of the seats while trying not to draw attention to themselves. The passengers in this car were mostly women, none of whom looked like they would steal an iPod. But in their line of work, Natalia and Renae knew that looks could be deceiving.
At the back of the railcar they found two empty seats and settled down into them. Renae pulled out her notepad and began to write notes on the passengers. Natalia was trying to not feel uncomfortable around the woman; Renae had just gone from potential threat to chummy pal in a split second, and it made her nervous. Bi-Polar was a possibility. Methodically insane was more likely.
Sighing, Natalia closed her eyes and attempted to recall the faces of the passengers. The first two seats on the left had been occupied by two sleeping teenagers. To their right sat a little old lady who was probably close to a hundred and had her purse taking up the seat beside her. Everyone else was in their mid twenties to late forties, with average hair, average faces, and probably average jobs. Discouraged, Natalia glanced at Renae's notes.
"Anyone stand out to you?"
"Nope."
That was helpful. Renae had gone back to bitch almost as quickly as she had turned into a buddy.
The men had waited for the women to disappear behind the sliding door before resuming their conversation.
"So," said Ryan, breaking the silence. "You and Renae, eh?"
Asshole snorted. "As if. I can't even put a hand on her shoulder."
"Does this have anything to do with why you and Delko don't get along?"
"As Renae would say, that's none of your business."
"I'll take that as a yes."
Asshole furrowed his brow and jabbed Ryan in the shoulder. "Back off."
"You want to know what I think?" Ryan said, rubbing his arm. "I think you like her. And that you've liked her for a long time. But she was with Eric. And Eric didn't like you liking her. And that's why you two hate each other."
"Wolfe, anyone in Miami could have told you that."
Ryan made a face and crossed his arms. "But I was right, wasn't I?"
"CSI of the Year."
Giving up, Ryan slouched back into his seat, closed his eyes, and listened to the grind of the train on the tracks. He hoped Natalia and Renae would return soon, so Renae and Asshole could continue their bitchfest and keep him the hell out of it. They hadn't even been on the tracks for two hours, and Ryan was already planning how he could possibly kill them. Killing was the easy part, getting the body off the train would be the hard part. And they'd probably fight back. Renae didn't seem like one who gave up too easily, and Asshole wasn't much different. They were like the same person, just with different biological mechanisms.
"I love her,"
Ryan's head snapped up. "What?"
"You heard what I said." Asshole muttered under his breath.
"That's a...strong word."
"Mhm."
"For like, how long?"
"As cliché as it sounds, since the day I first laid eyes on her."
"Have you guys had sex?"
Asshole punched him in the arm again.
"Ow!" Ryan shifted away from Asshole. "What the hell was that for?"
"I'm trying to have a meaningful man-to-man and you're asking if we've had sex!"
The man in the Armani suit gave them an incredulous stare, shook his head, and returned to reading his papers.
Taking the hint, Asshole lowered his voice. "She knows how I feel. She's the problem."
"Are you sure she knows how you feel?" Ryan stayed pressed against the wall of the train in an attempt to protect his already twice-bruised arm.
"Yes, you idiot. She definitely knows. She just—" Asshole cut off as Renae and Natalia re-entered the car.
"What were you talking about?" Renae asked as her and Natalia took their respective seats.
"Man stuff." The two males replied in unison.
Natalia rolled her eyes, but Renae's gaze never left Asshole. She knew what they had been talking about; it was written all over Asshole's face.