Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace, just the first season on DVD.
I was woken up to the sounds of Avenged Sevenfold playing on my ringtone. It took me a while to realize it meant I was needed to work and my immediate response was a pathetic groan.
"Hello?" I growled into the phone, my voice hoarse from lack of sleep.
"Rylee?" came Martin's voice over the phone.
I bit back another groan. He only called if he had an actual case for me. Sometimes I hated my job, but I would be so bored anywhere else.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes with my free hand. "Yeah, it's me. What's up?"
"We've got another case. I need you to come down…"
I spaced out as he launched himself into another annoying monologue meant to catch me up on what's been going on. I had better things to do when I could be filled in later when I actually arrived. With that thought in mind, I got out of bed and headed for my closet to grab something to wear.
"Rylee!" Martin sounded pissed.
I rolled my eyes; he must have just gotten out of the hospital and was annoyed that he was too crippled to really help in the field. Wonderful.
"Rylee!"
"I'm here," I muttered. "What do you want?"
"You weren't listening to me," he complained in annoyance.
"Sure I was," I protested, before adding on so he couldn't question me on what he'd said, "What should I wear?"
He sighed. "Like you really need to be told. You never wear anything else."
"I prefer to be comfortable," I replied. "Bite me."
"I'd rather not."
I shrugged even though he couldn't see me. "Any bodies to play with?"
I could almost picture the disturbed look on his face.
"No, not yet. Just get your butt over to the high school downtown."
"Woah—high school! You have to be joking."
"Just do it." He hung up.
Looking at my phone in surprise, I flipped it shut. Apparently, he missed the sex he had with Sam. How pathetic.
Tossing my phone out the closet door, it landed on the bed and bounced toward the edge. If it broke, I was going to make Martin pay for a new one…with blackmail.
In a better mood, I pulled out the outfit I was going to wear.
Fifteen minutes later, I was in the kitchen trying to decipher my little brother's handwriting. It was a pain he had such horrible penmanship and spelling. At his age, I could spell most of the larger words in the dictionary after seeing them only once. That must be the result of my annoyingly photographic mind, though.
Devin was just a normal kid in second grade.
Eventually, I was able to get that he didn't want to wake me up and had gotten a Poptart and Sunny Delight before catching the bus. I was amazed at how much more responsible he was and groaned a little.
I ignored the grumble of my hungry stomach and grabbed my purse and keys from the counter before heading out the door to the garage. My dark red, Niisan Sentra was sitting there in all its glory. It wasn't amazingly expensive, nor fancy, but it suited my purposes and got me everywhere faithfully.
I opened the door, tossed my purse onto the front seat, and got in.
"Hello, Dante," I greeted the shrunken head made out of a hollowed-out coconut.
As always, his silence was the only response I got. As the engine revved, the CD that I had in blared through the speakers. I turned it down, not in the mood to hear another lecture from Jack about protocol. There was no way I wanted Jack angry, too.
I was able to avoid most of the traffic, since it was already almost noon.
Parking in the lot, I threw the purse under the chair and decided to just click the keys onto the belt loop.
"Jack!"
He turned around and looked at me. He was not happy looking, not that I had very many memories of him looking happy. Something told me that me Martin had called.
Great. Just what I needed; a baby-sitter.
"Martin called. He said you were still asleep when he called and gave him some of that smartass attitude, he said. "Care to explain?"
"My little brother couldn't fall asleep because of the storm," I said; there was only a hint of a warning.
I was incredibly protective of Devin, especially when it came to my job.
"As for being a smartass," I shrugged, "isn't that what I am?"
"Do not mess with me, Rylee," he warned.
"I was trying to get dressed while he was explaining it." I shrugged again. "I figured I could hear it when I got here."
He just sighed. "Get in there. Sam is getting information already."
I nodded and headed inside.
