BPov
Ignoring the gunfire around me, I raised my service Glock and looked down the barrel at the front sight, taking aim at my target. I cupped my hands around the butt of the gun and squeezed the trigger, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline as the bullet left the gun and the recoiled energy coursed into my body. I popped off a series of shots, hearing the spent cartridges hit the floor around me. The last bullet ripped through my mark, a kill shot, and I bit back a smile.
I flicked the safety on, re-holstered my weapon at my waist and pressed the button on the inside of the booth, calling for the target to come zipping toward me. The paper was polka-dotted with holes through the silhouette's eyes, left lung, liver, right kidney, and the heart.
I was a damn good shot, and I could admit it. To myself anyway.
I felt a tap on my right shoulder and removed my earphones and earplugs as Newton leaned around me to grab my target.
"Jesus, Swan, who are you imagining the target is? You just wasted that guy."
You.
Not really. I always imagined something aside from the anatomical paper figure, but I couldn't really put into words what I envisioned. Some faceless being. A monster, literally. It floated at the edge of my consciousness, snarling, with bared teeth. I wasn't sure I wanted to see it.
"Some of us are just that good, Mikey," I teased, giving his cheek a playful slap.
He leaned away from my hand, shaking his head. "Your ass better be nice to me. I've got some news you might be interested in."
"Oh?" I asked, vaguely disinterestedly as I packed up my guns, earphones, and removed my shooting glasses.
"Yeah, my boy Tyler saw Cullen yesterday at a Volvo dealership over on University Avenue."
I wheeled around, surprised. It was the last thing I expected him to say. "Are you sure?" I was one hundred percent sure I'd given Dr. Cullen a card and asked him to have Edward call me upon his return. Was he avoiding contacting me?
Newton moved to the booth next to mine and began unpacking his gear. "Positive. Tyler saw the doctor with him."
Fuck.
I leaned around the edge of the divider and peeked into his stall. "Thanks, Mike, I owe you. Big."
His earphones were wrapped around his neck and he inserted the clip into his gun and slid his shooting glasses into place. "How big?" he asked suggestively.
I snorted. "Not that big. Never that big."
I needed to plan my strategy if I was going to approach Cullen again, so I went to the gym to expend some of the built-up adrenaline I'd amassed while shooting. I parked my ass on the spinning bike, popped my earbuds in, and zoned out. I needed to think.
It probably wouldn't be beneficial to show up at the house again; they'd assume we were tailing them and might run again or be on high alert at any rate. The last thing I needed was to get slapped with allegations of harassment.
The thought of sitting around and waiting while forensic and toxicology reports came back was agonizing. What if there was another murder in the meantime?
I felt backed into a corner; there was little I could do without risking either my own integrity, the reputation of the department, or ruining the investigation and causing my only suspect to run.
I left the gym feeling defeated, and I decided to get a coffee, risking a trip back to my favorite coffee shop. I didn't shower before I left, and I didn't change out of my T and yoga pants either. Despite my narrow, shitty tub, a bath sounded good. I could drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine and probably drown myself in the tub while I was at it. It sounded like an excellent option.
Thirty minutes later, I found myself sitting under a tree on the patio of the coffee shop, which was much busier this time, thank God. I lazily flipped through a local circular with entertainment happenings as I chugged my second latte. I wasn't really interested in the announcements for local bands, but it beat listening to the lunchtime conversations around me and the reminder that other people had significantly cooler lives than I did. And for a few moments, I almost forgot about the burden on my shoulders.
As I tipped my cup back, taking another sip, I saw a shock of copper hair through the small crowd passing down the city street. I set the cup down and sat up straighter, peering over the top of the paper to better see the person coming toward me. It might not be him, I thought. Anyone could have bronze hair, right?
My heart pounded as I waited to see the face of the man coming my way. Did I want it to be him?
My mouth was dry, my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I couldn't swallow. He was coming closer. The crowd opened up, and I held my breath as the person was revealed.
It was him.
He wore very dark Ray Ban sunglasses and, despite the mild day, a grey button up oxford shirt and black v-neck sweater with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms. He had on distressed jeans that frayed around the pockets and hems and were narrow through the hip. I wondered if he had a nice ass. He was already grinning like the cat that got the canary when he stopped short in front of my table, and I wondered what inspired that smile. It's like he knew I would be sitting here.
"Good morning, Detective Swan. What a surprise to see you here."
I sat dumbfounded as my eyes swept over his body. I could lie to myself and say I was checking to see if he had any kind of weapon on him but in all truth, I was gawking at this fine specimen of man. I hated myself for it. I was equally pissed that I hadn't changed out of my gym clothes. But I was downright angry at his fucking smugness.
My feet were resting on the chair in front of me, and I slid them off, one first and then the other. I forced myself to swallow and break my gaze. "I wasn't sure if I'd see you again, Mr. Cullen. I stopped by your father's and heard you took a little vacation. I left my card. I was hoping you'd call."
The smile that had faltered ever so slightly returned. "I'm flattered you hoped for a call, Ms. Swan, my apologies for not contacting you sooner. I needed to buy some provisions upon my arrival back home."
"Like Volvos?" I jabbed, wishing I hadn't shown my hand so early.
The smile widened again, letting me have more than a glimpse of his bright white teeth. Of course, I'd seen them another time gritted in anger. He didn't take my bait.
"May I?"
He gestured to the open chair across from me and waited patiently for my reply.
Again, I was stunned. Shocked. Clearly this man must be bi-polar or something. This wasn't the same person who growled at me in the same café only a short time ago and refused to answer any questions at his father's house a couple weeks ago.
I eventually nodded and, as he pulled the chair a little further away from the table, I reached down alongside the chair leg for my purse. I nudged the leather bag and felt the familiar and comfortable weight of my gun.
He settled himself further away from me than I expected and sat ramrod straight, appearing physically uncomfortable, and appeared to be holding his breath.
I worried for a moment that I would see a return of Edward Hyde Cullen until he relaxed a little and leaned back into the chair. "How can I help you, detective?"
I stared at his bespectacled face, not knowing what to say. This was what I'd tried to work out for days now, why I went to see him in the first place.
"I stopped by to inquire if you'd had any thoughts about our last conversation regarding the investigation. I was very surprised to hear you'd skipped town."
He smirked, and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkle behind his sunglasses. It disturbed me that he found the process amusing. "I've not thought of anything else. My apologies, I've had a great deal on my mind lately—hence the trip to the family cottage in Alaska."
I nodded, filing each detail away in my brain for later consideration. "Yes, your sister told me you were a bit of a drama queen," I taunted, taking the last drink of my latte, feeling the gritty dregs stick to my tongue.
He threw back his head and laughed aloud, the sound contagious and far more cheerful than I could ever imagine coming from him. The warmth of the tone rattled around my chest, in the empty spaces where I'm sure my soul once resided, and settled there, kick-starting my heart into an accelerated rhythm. I wanted to hear the sound again.
"Did she? Well, my sister knows all."
I felt my lips stretch, and I tried to quell the smile that was itching to split my face. I looked down at the pigeon cooing quietly beneath our table. It took a few hesitant steps toward Edward and looked up, hoping he'd drop part of a muffin or bagel, but then retreated quickly, darting under my chair.
I couldn't bear the silence. It was uncomfortable, and I racked my brain for something to talk about. Something relevant, so it didn't seem like I was prying. I remembered that Angela mentioned Edward started school about the same time that she did, and I prompted him about it.
"So, um, if you don't work in a lab, what do you do with your forensics degree, Mr. Cullen?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes I consult with my father, but usually nothing. A large inheritance makes that possible. I wanted to prove to myself that I could learn forensics by the book. It was solving the mystery that made it interesting. Now that I've done that, I'm afraid I don't find it very challenging."
I scoffed at his reply. "I presented you with a challenge, and I didn't hear any suggestions," I taunted, referencing my petition for help with the serial murder case.
His eyebrows rose above the frames of his sunglasses. "Ah, but that was your challenge, detective. Not mine."
He was back to grinning again, and I wondered if he knew more than he was letting on. I fumed as the silence between us wore on. Why in the hell was I here with this man? Why did I care who he was or what he did with his time? Why was I thinking about him even now?
"We like it on top."
His voice suddenly broke the standoff, distracting me from the cacophony inside my own head.
"Excuse me?" I spluttered indignantly.
"Your T-shirt," he said, pointing at the green shirt stretched tight across my breasts.
Right. The t-shirt I was wearing. The one-size too small because I've gained weight since graduation, stinky, sweaty, shirt I didn't change out of after leaving the gym today.
"Oh." I could feel my face flame with embarrassment. What did I think he was talking about?
SEX, dummy! Isn't that the point of a T-shirt with a double entendre printed on it?
My mind changed gears rapidly, the cranial cogs slipping a little. My sex-deprieved mind instantly conjured up a brilliant fantasy involving the man in front of me. Flashes of myself naked and face down on a bed, wrists bound by the T-shirt, as Edward slid into me from behind. He ran his hand up over my ass cheek and up my spine. I jolted back to reality when the vision changed rapidly from one of passion to my abandoned corpse marred with five scratches across my back.
He stared across the table at me, waiting for an explanation.
"It's, um, from my dorm at college." I turned in my chair so he could see the back. It had the name of my dorm and my graduating year above a picture of my old dormitory hall on it. "We, uh, lived on the top floor."
I resettled in my chair and mentally cursed myself out. Idiot! Why are you telling him this? Just stop talking! He might be a murder suspect!
"You went to MSU?"
His eyes were narrowed, but his lips twitched in amusement.
"Yeah, I majored in Criminal Justice before I went through the academy." I wondered why he cared about my alma mater.
"I—the men in my family went to Michigan."
A fierce college rivalry if I'd ever seen one. "Ah, so that's it," I surmised, slapping my knee. "Maybe the reason we don't get along is wrapped up in a 112 year college football rivalry."
The full grin was back. "On the contrary, Ms. Swan, I think we get on just fine," he replied, pushing his Ray Bans further up on the bridge of his nose.
Yeah, when you're not trying to kill me.
I was determined to play the good cop from now on. It wouldn't be beneficial to be a hard ass. It was obvious that he was more responsive today than he had been on the previous two occasions. I'd just have to keep this up.
I removed my purse from the back of the chair and pawed through it, finding my business card wallet. I flipped a card onto the table and pushed it toward Edward. "Thanks for stopping to talk to me today, Mr. Cullen. If you have any thoughts about the case, please don't hesitate to call me. I promise, I don't bite."
His lips twitched again as he fought to control his smile. "It's a pity, Detective Swan. I do." He rose from the chair, winked, and pocketed the card.
A shiver rippled through me, but I wasn't sure if I was terrified or turned on. I narrowed my eyes. "Let me know if you'll be leaving town again."
He froze suddenly, stock still, and wrinkled his nose as though he smelled something foul. He looked away just as suddenly, as though someone had called his name from afar; though I'd heard nothing. His countenance changed when he turned back around. His eyes were narrowed, lip curled back ever so slightly. Was this the return of Mr. Hyde?
"Will do, detective. I must take my leave now. Have a pleasant day."
He slipped back into the lunchtime crowd, and I turned in my seat to satisfy my earlier curiosity.
Yep, he had a nice ass. Damn him.
Author's Note: A HUGE thank you to Duskwatcher and Kisbysdog08 for the beta!
Apologies to everyone who has been SO patient with me getting out this chapter. I'm a busy college student who just finished the worst semester of her college career thus far. That said, I'm done for the semester and updates will happen MUCH more frequently now. Thank you for your support and patience!
