Emma spent most of the next morning perusing old notes. Something would come to her after looking through them with a fresh mind, she assumed. Then again, she assumed the same thing every morning since she had set out on the case. But giving up wouldn't help anybody.
She'd seen Graham for a bit this morning, before he went about the town. Other than the occasional phone call concerning "detective work" that needed to be done, this was a typical day. Emma would stay at the office in the morning; Graham would go out then come back a few hours later; Emma would get lunch at Granny's Diner and catch up on the latest gossip with Mrs. Lucas and Ruby; Emma would take care of anything that needed to be done outside the office; Emma would come back to the office; Emma would file her notes for tomorrow and go home.
And tonight Emma would be going to her first tango class.
She wasn't overly excited, but it was an interrupti on to the monotony, so it was something to look forward to.
It had been almost 3 hours, and Graham would be back soon, and she could get some fresh air. She removed her glasses, sank into her chair, stretched, and let out an enormous yawn.
Briiinnggggg
Emma groaned. Another flat tire.
She picked up the phone. "Storybrooke Police Department, this is Detective Swan. What is the reason for your call?"
A man's voice answered, clearly shaken. "H-hello? Um. Something just happened here I-I-I was gone for ten minutes and- something happened. I think that's blood over there and the window- there's glass on the floor- I can't find him! I was only gone for ten minutes and something… something" His breathing was sporadic. Poor guy sounded like he was going to cry.
"It's ok sir. Take a deep breath, it's ok. Can you tell me your name and location?" Emma spoke slowly, enunciating each word. She knew hearing someone speak slowly had a calming effect.
There was an audible gulp. The man was breathing heavy, shallow breaths. A few moments later he was able to speak. "I'm… My name is Mike. Mike Primblush. I'm at home. It's um… 4th Street and Pine."
"Got it, I'll be there right away"
Emma hung up the phone. She grabbed her keys, wallet, mobile phone, a notepad, and a pen. She tucked the pen onto her ear, stuffed her wallet into her pocket and hurried to her car.
She unlocked the door and threw her things onto the passenger's seat, started the car, and drove off.
When Emma reached the intersection she spotted the place easily enough- a small crowd had assembled in front of a house. She parked and stepped out of the car, notepad in hand. At first glance she found the crowd… unusual. She'd never seen so many little men at once. There were five of them.
"Pardon me. I'm Detective Swan. I'm looking for a Mike?"
One of the men walked toward her. He was wearing a red shirt under black leather jacket and a black fedora. He stared at a crack in the pavement as he approached. "That's me," he mumbled, daring to meet her eyes.
Emma nodded in acknowledgement. "First things first. What happened here?" She took the pen from her ear.
"I left about half an hour ago to drop something at the post office. When I came back, the window… the window was broken." He was playing with the hem of his jacket as he spoke. "There's a smear over here…" He led her to it. "I think it's blood. I-I don't know where Drixy went."
"Who's Drixy?" Emma inquired as she knelt and examined the bloodstain. It looked like someone had painted it on the driveway by forcefully swinging a paintbrush, and then held it in one spot to drip.
"He's my dog. He's not very big, but he'd stand his ground if there was an intruder. That's what scares me."
Ah, that was the answer. It was perfectly plausible that Drixy had bitten the culprit and drawn blood, causing the culprit to shake free of the dog and make the blood spatter.
Emma scribbled in the notepad. "Anything else?" she asked.
"Yeah, well… this is going to sound strange but…" Emma stopped writing and waited for him to continue. "Only one thing was missing. A Pysanka I've had since I could remember. You know, those colorful decorated eggs? "
"Mhm." She started writing again.
"I'm… It's kind of upsetting because it means so much to me. But… what a strange thing for someone to take."
Strange indeed. Emma had a feeling in her gut that she couldn't quite place. So she ignored it for now and continued to gather information: After calling the police, Mike had phoned his brothers, four of which had come immediately. He wanted them there for emotional support, mostly. She felt it was important to note that Mike lived with his brother Leroy. He had an egg too, and it was still displayed where he had left it. The crime scene was untouched, and she asked them to keep it that way.
A while later, when Emma satisfied with her notes, she told Mike and his brothers she'd keep an eye out for Drixy, and she'd be back in about an hour with the Sheriff.
Emma arrived at the office and didn't see Graham's car yet, so she called him to tell him something was up, and requested he meet her at the station in ten minutes.
She stepped out of the car and located her key to the office. She turned it in the lock.
Huh?
She felt stomach drop to her knees. She never left the door unlocked. She pushed the door open and scanned the area. Several things were amiss.
She grew more anxious the longer she stood. The lights were still on. She looked down and saw a coat, scarf, and gloves hung on the coat rack. A file cabinet drawer was slightly ajar.
Instinctively, Emma groped around her pockets for something she could use as a weapon, and when she found nothing, she looked around and grabbed the first thing she could find- a mop handle.
She tiptoed to a corner, raising the mop handle to her ear. She suspected she was not alone, a suspicion that was momentarily confirmed when she heard papers shuffling and the clack-clack of heels on tile. Suddenly, she was hit with an electrifying realization. Yes! This could be the culprit she was looking for!
Could the case that had been weighing on her for days be settled by a stroke of luck and a reckless idiot?
Who the hell steals from the cops anyway? Emma thought as she braced herself. Her gut was a mess of apprehension and fear and several other things. All the more reason to get this over with.
She jumped out from the corner and held the handle out. "You know, you have got to be the worst thief I've ever seen," she announced.
The intruder looked up casually, eyeing Emma as if she were a worm on the sidewalk. "Excuse me?"
"It's you who should be explaining yourself." Emma stabbed the air with the handle. "Who in the hell robs a police station in the middle of the day? Are you stupid?"
As she waited for a reply, she studied the intruder- a slender woman of average height, with dark brown shoulder length hair. She wore a moderate amount of makeup that accentuated her eyes, and deep crimson lipstick. Emma had to admit, she was unbelievably attractive. And she had an aura about her that Emma couldn't quite place- fierce? Elegant? Domineering? Regal? Yes, regal. That was it.
"First: 'nobody'; and second: 'no', I am not stupid. I'm the mayor, and you would be well suited to remember that. Now answer me. Would I wear this," she gestured to her outfit, "if I wanted to steal something?"
Emma felt a flush creep up her neck and to the top of her head. Yeah, who would. And now that she thought about it, a burglar wouldn't leave their coat on a coat rack. The woman was wearing a vest and a matching knee-length skirt. If that wasn't enough, the heels of her polished shoes were at least three inches. Not something you could wear and get away from a crime scene easily. "Wow. Well um… sorry for the confusion. But I'd still like to know how you got in here and why… if you would be so kind."
"Mayor Mills."
"Oh! Sorry. I'm Emma Swan. Detective Emma Sw-" Emma had her hand extended, but it was a needless effort.
"I could care less who you are."
"Well you told me yours so I assumed-"
"You assumed wrong. I told you because you should address me as Mayor Mills. Madam Mayor serves just as well."
Emma ground her teeth. She had more important things to do than argue about formalities. "Ok that's great but I'd still like to know what's going on."
Ms. Mills ignored Emma continued with her business. She appeared to be signing something, but Emma couldn't see from this far away. "Did you hear me?" Emma tried again. No reply.
"Hey! I'm talking to you," Emma snapped as she stomped over to the woman. Geez, thought Emma, she and I are both working full-grown adults and here she is, acting like a 12 year old. "Will you please answer me, Madam Mayor," she finally said, not bothering to mask her irritation.
"If you insist." Ms. Mills' eyes never left the page, "I have a long list of duties as mayor. Some of those duties are kept here in the filing cabinet. I take care of them when I can. Now please leave me to them."
"Why don't you leave them in your Mayor's office? Or at home?"
"Don't tell me how to do my job when you obviously don't know what you're talking about."
Emma fumed.
"Hey! 'Mayor" does not mean 'dictator', so stop acting like-"
"It's ok Em, she's not hurting anyone by working here."
Graham.
Emma felt a wash of relief, forgetting all about Ms. Mills- well, mostly- and rushed over to Graham. She gave him the details of the earlier events with Mr. Primblush and informed him that they needed to go back for further investigation.
"All right, let's get going then," he said when she finished.
"Are we just going to leave her here?" Emma said in a hushed tone.
"Sure, I told you already, it's all good." He shuffled over to the door. Emma followed.
"Why didn't you tell me about her before?"
"I have. You were probably not paying attention."
"I think I would have remembered talking about the damned Mayor."
"Come on really? I swear I told you once that she's always in the office, but you're usually out when she's here."
"Nope, don't think you did."
"Suit yourself," Graham smirked. He paused as they walked out and looked over his shoulder. "See you around, Regina."
"See you around, Sheriff," she replied.
Moments later, they were at Graham's car. Emma plopped into the seat and buckled herself in. Graham did the same, and caught Emma with a melancholy expression on her face.
"What's the matter Emma?"
"…Nothing. Let's get moving."
It wasn't nothing. It was just stupid and embarrassing. And she didn't want to say it out loud. Maybe it was the way Ms. Mills had disregarded her- like she was worth less than the dirt on the bottom of her shoe. She'd had quite enough of that kind of treatment in her life. All it did was bring back memories she'd rather not think about. She could tolerate rudeness, stupidity, and even violent behavior. But she had absolutely zero tolerance for being treated like scum. And Regina had done just that. She couldn't help it… she abhorred the woman.
But that wasn't even the whole of it.
Graham had called her by her first name… what was it? Regina. And Regina had spoken only to Graham as they walked out the door, acting as if Emma wasn't there. It hurt that Graham was friendly with someone who had treated her so poorly. She might even admit she was jealous. For starters, the only time Regina spoke to her was to inform Emma how to address her properly. Was it so hard to accept that there had been a misunderstanding? Or did she treat all people like garbage?
Obviously not. Because she treated Graham like an actual human being. And he knew her first name.
Knock it off. Of course he knows her first name, Emma scolded herself. He'd been the Sheriff of the Storybrooke for the past eight years. He had probably known Regina since before then. Emma hadn't even known her eight minutes.
Emma sighed. She was exasperated. About the case, about the last several minutes, about the old memories that had come swirling into her head. And mostly about the fact that she had become so upset over something so… dumb.
As they pulled up to Mr. Primblush's house, she took a few deep breaths and regained composure.
As she opened the door, a small dog bolted over to her, yipping. She scratched it behind the ear. "Is this Drixy?" she shouted when Mike emerged from his front door.
"Y-yeah... He came back! Must have given chase. He had a red smear on his nose. You saw the bloodstain… right?" He was looking at his feet.
"Yeah, got it all written down. I took pictures too," Emma said as she patted her jacket pocket.
"And I've got the official police report right here," Graham added. He was holding a clipboard and jotting down what he needed.
Emma took out her notepad and took a fresh look around with Graham. She explained what the deal was- a window was broken, an egg was stolen, Drixy the dog attacked and chased the thief, there was blood- and he took his own notes.
"So we'll keep our eyes out for anyone with a limp or a bandaged hand. And of course a pretty blue egg with glitter," Graham concluded when they had searched everything they could.
"Um… they're rhinestones," Mike chimed, "…sorry."
"A pretty blue egg with rhinestones then." Graham chuckled, not unkindly.
"Glad to see you got your dog back," Emma said with a smile.
It was nearly 5:00 in the evening when they got back to the station. Graham recounted his morning to Emma as they left Mike's house, and was still talking when they arrived at the office. Once inside, Emma stashed her notes. Her brain had checked out for the day, and she just wanted to get out of there.
She said goodnight to Graham and hurried out to her car. Once inside, she sat back and closed her eyes. Finally, she could relax. But not here.
She forced herself to sit up, turned on the ignition and left the parking lot.
As she approached a stoplight, she glanced at the center console and saw the business card she had left there.
Shit, I forgot.
Dance class was the absolute last thing on her mind today. She rubbed her brow. All she wanted to do right now was lay on the couch with a movie on. But she remembered why she wanted to sign up. Plus I could use some exercise, she convinced herself.
Once home, she took a shower and got dressed to go out. She figured class wasn't a special occasion, but she wanted to make a good first impression. So she wore one of her nicer casual shirts, a pair of jeans, and an old pair of faded black flats.
She checked herself in the mirror, combing her fingers through her hair as she did so. She didn't bother putting on anything more than some eyeliner; she'd had a long day after all.
Finally she fixed herself a snack, some leftover pasta salad, an apple, and a glass of water. She wolfed them down gratefully. She had been so busy she forgot to get lunch, so she was starving.
When she finished, she stuck a piece of gum in her mouth and grabbed her keys. She looked at the clock on the stove; it read 6:05. Plenty of time to get there and talk with Mary and whoever else showed up.
All right, here we go.
Emma got into her car departed for the Seven Seasons.