Naomi glances around the pub and sighs. She shouldn't have come. This is a mistake. She needs distance from these people, not closeness, not an opportunity for them to pry into her life or her to find out about theirs. She shouldn't care. They're from her past, not her present (though really only she exists in her present, and her mum and Kieran occasionally…then there's the odd woman or man who passes through for a night).
"Another scotch on the rocks, please, and make this one top shelf. I can tell the difference," she orders, setting her empty glass down on the bar.
"Your drink of choice has changed since college," Emily says in a friendly tone, but Naomi can't help thinking that there's an underlying accusation in her words.
"A lot has changed since college," is her terse reply.
Emily deflates immediately. She's not an idiot, and she's not the same girl who kept chasing after Naomi back in the day. She's not even sure she wants the blonde back in her life. She really has no idea who Naomi is anymore and Naomi doesn't really know who she is anymore either. Maybe it's better that way. "Another pint of cider, please," she requests when the bartender sets down Naomi's drink and turns expectantly to her.
Naomi frowns at the way that Emily automatically seems to close off, aware of the smaller woman's muscles tensing, and the shift so that she doesn't actively step away, but certainly leans away, tilting her head away even. Ok, so she might have been a tad unnecessarily brusque. She does still have to work with the woman. "Your drink order, too," she extends what she hopes will come across as an olive branch.
It works somewhat. Emily's stance relaxes a bit, and, when she grabs her cider, she shoots Naomi a small smile, but no more words are exchanged. Naomi finds herself following Emily back to the group despite her reluctance to actually be there. She takes a sip of the scotch and takes in the familiarity of it, sniffs in the distinct smell, swallows the contradiction of the liquid cooled by ice, still burning like fire. She doesn't grimace anymore. This is the taste of comfort on her tongue.
"So, Naomikins, what have you been up to the past ten years? Any special men or women in your life?" Cook greets her back to the table.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'd really rather not discuss my personal life. I'm just here for the job," Naomi replies, forcing what she hopes comes across as a polite smile.
"Come on, Naomikins! We're all family here!" Cook tries again.
Naomi keeps the smile in place and shakes her head, not daring to look around and potentially meet Emily's gaze as she takes another sip of her drink.
"Well this was a good idea," Katie turns her head mutters in Effy's ear.
Effy wraps her arms around her girlfriend's waist and pulls her in closer. "Give it time," she coaxes.
Naomi can't help watching them. The possibility that homophobic, self-centred Katie Fitch is now dating the girl who, if Naomi remembered correctly, she'd had a somewhat tumultuous friendship with in college, is blowing her mind. Effy'd even cheated with one of Katie's boyfriends once. The argument over that had lasted the better part of six months, and even Naomi'd somehow managed to get roped into it, thanks to her relationship with Emily at the time. That was one of the issues she'd had with the relationship. It'd never felt like she was just dating Emily, but her whole family, too.
She watches as Effy whispers something in Katie's ear and the shorter girl giggles. There's a definite vibe coming off of them. All of their body language suggests a certain level of closeness. She can't not ask. The question is burning away inside her. "So, you two are together, right?"
"I thought you were just here for the job," Katie shoots back.
Effy pinches Katie's side, making her girlfriend squeal. "Let's just say Katie's a tiger in bed," she supplies with a wink at Naomi.
"Effy!" Katie reprimands at the same time that Emily and James groan their disgust.
"Must be a family thing," Naomi mutters, glancing at Emily as flashes of the naked redhead hovering over her with a truly sinful gleam in her eye enter her mind.
Emily and Katie both turn shocked expressions on Naomi. Katie's far too astonished to be grossed out yet.
Emily's cheeks flush bright red as she recalls several events in her past that might've been the basis for what Naomi's talking about. She internally scolds herself as her body betrays her and floods with heat. Those emotions and sensations should be buried deep. They have no place in her life right now.
There's an awkward silence descended on the group now, standing out against the background noise of the pub. Even Cook and James are keeping their mouths shut temporarily.
Naomi's about to mumble sorry, but fortunately Effy jumps in.
"Anyway, yes, we're together," she supplies.
Naomi nods. She really shouldn't have asked. How can she have been so stupid? She's here for work. Just work. She quickly downs the rest of her drink and heads back to the bar for her next one.
When she looks around, Effy's slipped in next to her.
"Dealing with issues you thought you'd left behind?" Effy suggests with a knowing smirk.
"Guess you haven't changed much. Still all seeing?" Naomi deflects.
Effy shrugs. "Aren't you, too, these days?"
"Sounds something like my job description," Naomi replies, allowing herself a small grin.
"Drink like this often?" Effy inquires, nodding towards the empty glass that Naomi's still cupping on the bar.
Naomi narrows her eyes, studying Effy a little closer, trying to read her. Was it an accusation or an innocent question? Knowing Effy, probably the former. She doesn't answer Effy, just turns and orders her drink from the barman.
Effy smiles to herself and turns to order another round for her and Katie. "She's single, you know," Effy informs Naomi as she takes the drinks from the bartender, and turns back to head back to the group. She knows Naomi will know who she means.
Naomi stands there dumbfounded, new drink in hand. She realizes too late that she should have replied, should have asked who Effy meant. By not doing so, she's given too much away. Besides, she's not really interested in that fact. Well, maybe a little. But not in a "she wants to do anything about it" kind of way. It answers a minor curiosity that she has, that's all. Naomi sighs, fully aware that she's lying to herself. She downs her drink and orders another before heading back to the group, slightly numbed. It's always easier to face people like this.
Emily can't help but look up when Naomi comes back. It shouldn't make her feel this way to be this close to Naomi after all these years. It's not like she's secretly been carrying a torch for Naomi all these years or something. She's moved on. She's dated other people. She's had serious relationships. She's even had her heart broken since. Sure, none of the more recent heartbreaks have hurt as acutely as the breakup with Naomi had, but that's only because Naomi was her first love.
"Emily, check out the tits on that redhead by the bar!" Cook nudges her in the side, distracting her, and she follows his gaze. "What's your gaydar saying? Gay or straight?"
The girl in question catches Emily's eye and winks. Emily smiles back coyly out of habit. This is a frequent game between her and Cook. Sometimes one of them ends up going home with whatever girl Cook spies, but more often than not neither does. "She's definitely one of mine," Emily replies smugly.
"Yeah, yeah. I saw the wink. Don't rub it in," Cook sighs overly dramatically.
Naomi feels her stomach clench unexpectedly, in a feeling she hasn't felt in years. It's definitely not a good feeling to be having now, either.
Emily lets out a small laugh, then catches sight of Naomi out of the corner of her eye, and stops. She's definitely not going home with the girl tonight. She's not going home with anyone, she reminds herself.
.
.
It had been a busy night. Eventful really. Ended on a high note at least. He'd died with a flare. The right flare, finally. It had been rather satisfying. He'd been a right tosser. He'd certainly had it coming. Especially with a comment like the one he'd made. He obviously had no taste. He was obviously the type of guy who wouldn't know talent if it hit him over the head. Oh wait…It had.
"Victim's been identified as one David Blood," the small, nervous constable informs Katie, James, Cook and Naomi when they arrive on scene, handing over the driver's license he'd recovered from the body to Katie.
"That arsehole? Fucking tried to kick me out our last year of college! Do you remember that shit?" Cook declares.
"And me, my first year at Roundview," James voices.
"Did either of you kill him?" Naomi asks with a hint of humour in her voice.
"No, but I wouldn't have minded giving him a good punch to the jaw," Cook replies.
"I'm not going to shed a tear for him. That's for sure," James seconds.
"Don't speak ill of the dead," Katie scolds, more out of habit than because she disagrees with his words.
"Perhaps another disgruntled student killed him, and it's not related to the other cases," James suggests.
"It's related," Katie and Naomi chime in unison, voices full of certainty.
James and Cook share a look, then turn questioningly to Naomi and Katie, waiting for one of them to elaborate how the know this so quickly after arriving on scene.
"Glitter in the blood," Katie points. It was one of the first things she checked for on her initial survey of the scene.
"And a musical note drawn on the body in the glittery blood. It's similar to the one Katie found at the previous crime scene, but a little better done, and, of course, actually on the body this time. The killer is developing his skills," Naomi says.
"So it's a him then?" Cook asks.
Naomi shakes her head. "No, not necessarily. Sorry. I should have said his or her skills. I'm still not sure on that point. We do, however, now officially have a serial killer on our hands. Three different victims found at three different locations."
Katie nods grimly.
"Looks like there'll be plenty of DNA samples again," Cook mutters as he takes in the scatterings of cigarette butts and a few used condoms.
"All of them most likely as equally useless as those at the previous crime scenes," Katie sighs.
"Emily's gonna love us," James comments sarcastically.
"At least she gets a full night's sleep tonight, while we're out here mucking about a crime scene," Katie replies.
"Lucky bugger," James grumbles as he stifles a yawn.
"Right. James go interview people, and try to take thorough notes this time," Katie instructs.
James shoots her a glare, but does as he's told. He'd taken thorough notes last time as far as he was concerned. Katie hadn't thought that the phone number of the cute brunette he'd been talking to counted, for some reason.
"Cook?" Katie asks.
"I'll take the body. You take the surroundings," he decides.
Katie nods and is about to start her methodical search of the perimeter of the scene, when she remembers that Naomi's standing there. She shoots the blonde a questioning look.
"Don't worry about me. I've got my own methods. It helps to see a fresh crime scene. Makes it a little easier to put myself in both the victim's and the killer's minds," Naomi explains.
"Okay. I'll leave you to it," Katie replies.
Naomi closes her eyes for a second and takes a few deep breaths. When she opens her eyes again, she's seeing the scene as the killer might have. At least two clubs within walking distance. Busy ones, too, if the stragglers just now heading home are anything to judge by. Enough people in each that nobody would notice the comings and goings of one person. This particular alley is dark though, providing enough cover for anyone wanting to commit any range of crimes.
If the killer is female, then it would have been easy for her to lure someone down here, and should anyone pass by, she could have simply pretended to be halving a romantic affair with the victim. Strangulation was up close and personal. In the dark, most people wouldn't have looked close enough to tell that that was really what was going on.
Then again, most people won't intervene or even call the police if they see an argument. Most people think it's better not to get involved. They don't want any trouble. So even if the killer is a man, people probably wouldn't have looked too closely.
"Naoms," Cook calls, shaking Naomi out of her thought process.
He's beckoning for her to approach so she does so.
"Got a difference in this case," he continues. "Look at the head. None of the others had any head wounds. He's got a bash there. Fresh blood. I have to wait for JJ to get here to touch the body, and he could give us a better idea of what he was hit with, but maybe this one put up a bit more of a fight?"
Naomi muses over the possibility. Perhaps that's the case. She glances at the hands and notes that the fingernails look clean and well manicured. They seem to lack any defensive wounds. "Or perhaps the killer is simply getting a bit overzealous," she offers an alternative theory.
That's dangerous if it's true. It might mean that the killer will become more unpredictable. The killer is definitely evolving, but perhaps he or she is starting to lose a bit of control as well. The death count could go up quickly if that's the case. As it is the victims don't seem to have been stalked long term. The killer is more impulsive than many. Not sloppy. Not yet.
Naomi sighs. "Thanks for pointing that out," she says to Cook before returning to what she'd been doing before.
Cook nods and resumes taking in the scene around the body. "Messy," he mumbles to himself. This whole fucking business is messy. Some serial killer has the balls to be running around his city and killing off people he actually knows (even if he didn't like them all that much). It feels almost like the killer's baiting him, but that can't be true.
He spares a glance back in Naomi's direction, and can't help thinking that things are only going to get messier, and in more ways than one.