Chapter 5: Visits
Kate Fender's apartment,
West Virginia Avenue,
Washington, D.C.,
4th January 2012, 09:30 a.m.
Average. Yes, average was the most fitting word for Kate Fender. Average height, average weight, average face. She was dressed completely in black, her eyes puffy and red. Her hands were clutched around the coffee cup. Norman watched her closely, while her gaze was focused on her shoes.
"It's a nightmare", she said, her voice timid. "I can't believe it's true. First Cooper… and now Livingston…" She looked up for an instant. "How can this happen?"
"Miss Fender, I understand that you are upset, but I assure you, the FBI is doing its best to catch the killer."
"Captain Suther… Captain Suther said you were at the police department as Livingston died. If the FBI really does its best, how could he die, then?"
Norman withstood the urge to look away. "We have just started with the investigation. At the moment, the killer is one step ahead of us. But as soon as we have analyzed all the evidence, we'll catch up. But we need your help, Miss Fender. Please try to remember the day as Officer Cooper got his new case. Was there… anything special, or weird happening on that day? Something unusual?"
She shook her head immediately. "No, nothing. It was just a normal day."
"What about Officer Cooper? Something special about his behavior?"
"No. He was glad. Happy", she replied, a small smile on her lips. "He hated the work on his desk, like, writing reports and that stuff. Of course, I did most of it, but he still despised it. He was always happy when he got a new case and had the possibility to go out there and catch criminals. He was a very good cop."
"What about his colleagues? Was there somebody he didn't get along with?"
"No. He was a very socializing person. Easy to get along with. Some other Officers and him even established a basketball team and used to play together twice a week, after work."
"Captain Suther said his best friend was Officer Campillo."
The woman nodded. "Yes. Poor Carlos. He is devastated. He blames himself, says he should have taken care of him."
Jayden raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know they worked together."
"They didn't. That's why he couldn't have done anything about it. But he still blames himself. You need to understand, we're a little bit like a family at the station."
"And there was really no one who had a problem with Cooper?"
She shook her head again, this time, more firm. "Nobody." She looked up. "You don't think one of his colleagues could be involved in this, do you?"
"No, of course not", he lied. "It's just conspicuous that he was shot on the same day as he got the case. The killer must have gotten the information rather fast."
For the first time, she looked at him. Her eyes narrowed and the sorrowful expression was replaced by anger. "Well, he didn't get it from us", she said sharply.
Norman decided to drop the topic for the moment. "Officer Cooper was married?"
She turned her head again, focusing now on the painting on the wall. "Yes. He married two years ago."
"Have you met his wife?"
"Once or twice."
"How would you describe her?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "She's good-looking. A little bit superficial. James…" she hesitated, then corrected herself. "Cooper told me she wasn't really interested in his work. She liked the good reputation, having a police officer as her husband, but she never asked him about his cases."
"Against to you", he stated.
"He knew he could talk to me about everything. He trusted me", she said evadingly.
"And was your interest limited to his work?" he asked.
"I don't understand the question", she replied, leaning back in the chair, crossing her arms before her chest, proving unconsciously that he just had touched a sensitive point.
"Well, you've worked with him for a long time, haven't you?"
"Five years", she said.
"Two people working together for so long usually built up an emotional connection."
"As I already told you, we are more like a family. James and I… I mean, Officer Cooper and me…" she stopped and he could see how she blushed. He decided to be blunt.
"Miss Fender, did you have an affair with him?" he asked.
Her eyes narrowed. "I don't see how this could be relevant for the investigation."
"I suggest you just answer the question."
Her lips formed a very thin line, as she admitted: "Six months. We decided to end it last week."
"And this decision was made by mutual agreement?"
Her expression had turned to clear loathing now. "No."
"Who ended it?"
"James."
"How did you react to the separation?"
"I was angry, of course. I thought he loved me. I thought he would decide to leave his wife and start a new life with me. But before you ask – I didn't give out any information. If I were you, I'd go and see his wife. Ask her some questions. As she found out about the affair, she went totally crazy. She told him she would destroy him if he didn't end it."
Jayden looked at her, surprised. "Didn't you say she never bothered about his work?"
"Well, she didn't. But James always called her when he got a new case and told her what it was about. To increase her interest, I guess."
He nodded and rose to his feet. "Alright, Miss Fender. That's all the questions I have right now. Thanks for your cooperation."
She nodded her head grimly, not bothering to lead him out.
FBI Headquarter,
Washington, D.C.,
Section for technical support 1.3,
4th January 2012, 09:52 a.m.
As Charlie had entered the bureau this morning, he had feared this day to turn out like yesterday – with him rushing from computer to computer, enduring laments and curses.
Luckily, it seemed as if he had fixed all errors, so he could continue his work on the newest spy grogram he had invented.
Just as he made progress, someone knocked on the door.
"Come in", he said cheerfully and rose his eyes.
Lauren entered the office, two steaming cups in her hand.
"Hi", she said with a small smile.
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Hi."
"I've just been to the cafeteria and thought I'd bring you a coffee", she hurried to say and put the cup on his desk.
Surprise lit in his eyes. "Wow. Thank you. I don't know how I deserved this treatment, but, nevertheless, thank you."
"Can I sit down?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure."
She took place in the chair in front of his desk and took a sip of her tea.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, after some minutes of silence.
She shook her head. "No… Yes. I'm stuck."
"The investigation?" he asked.
The woman nodded her head. "Yes. I reread all the ballistic reports, because I thought I'd maybe catch another hint… But nothing. It's frustrating."
"This guy seems to be pretty good."
"Or maybe, I'm overlooking something."
"I doubt it. You're good, as well", Charlie replied casually.
She looked up at him. "Do you know that, actually, you're the only nice member of the FBI I met until now? Garland treats me with such arrogance as if I hadn't been a police officer, but a homeless before I applied to the FBI."
"I suspect that being a police officer and being a homeless has the same worth in Garland's world. There's nothing like being an FBI agent, to him. He treats me like an unnerving fly, most of the time."
She nodded her head thoughtfully, then looked up at him. "What are you working on?"
"Spy software. I'm trying to write a program that will be able to sneak into high secured email accounts without being noticed."
"How is it going?"
"Great. Another day, and I will test it on Garland's account", he said and winked at her.
"Give me a call when you do. Could be interesting."
"Sure."
Lauren sighed and stood up. "Well, I guess I'll go back to my office."
"Maybe you should examine the other bullets. Instead of just reading about them", Charlie suggested. "That could help."
She hesitated, then nodded her head. "Yes, maybe. I'll go and ask Garland to send a request. If Chicago gets them sent before two, they might arrive tomorrow."
"Garland's on a presentation at the academy today. Ask Jayden. He should be able to do that as well."
"He's currently interrogating Cooper's colleagues."
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "I thought he had been to the police department yesterday?"
"Well, apparently, Cooper's secretary and best friend aren't on duty at the moment and he thinks one of them could be involved in all this."
He heard the change in her voice. "You don't think so?"
"No. But obviously, my opinion only counts as long as it has something to do with ballistics."
Charlie sighed, but didn't comment her statement. "Well, why don't you call him and tell him it's urgent? He'll probably manage to come in between two interrogations. You have his cell phone number, don't you?"
Lauren nodded her head. "Yes. Garland sent it to me, together with his own. Though I doubt he'll come here just to send a request for me."
Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it doesn't hurt to ask, does it?"
James Cooper's apartment,
Maryland Avenue,
Washington, D.C.,
4th January 2012, 10:46 a.m.
Olivia Cooper's appearance was the complete opposite of Kate Fender's. She was tall and slender, with long curly brown hair and dark, never resting eyes. She was dressed in an expensive looking black dress. As she had let him in, she hadn't bothered to offer him a seat. Instead, she had opened the balcony door and lit a cigarette, eyeing him with suspicion.
"What do you want?" she asked. "I told Captain Suther everything I know."
"Misses Cooper, I understand your… sorrow. But I have a few questions that need answers", Norman said, then paused and added: "I'm sorry for your loss."
"My loss", she said and laughed short and ironical. "It's not enough that my husband is dead, no. Now I even have to answer questions to the FBI. And the guys from the life insurance basically want me to write a god damn novel before they sell it out. I mean, have a look around. How shall I pay all this? The funeral, the rates for the flat…"
"You don't have a job?"
"I work in a fashion store, but only part-time." She eyed him. "You should visit us once. You know, grey suits are out of fashion for ages. Navy blue is the color of the season."
"Thanks, but I'm fine", he replied.
Interesting. Her husband died and all she cares about is the insurance and fishing new customers.
She shrugged her shoulders. "If you say so."
"Misses Cooper, did you know what your husband was currently working on?"
"No. I mean, he called me, like always, to tell me what or whom he was after, but I didn't really pay attention to it. I've always had a passion for guys in uniforms, but I never wanted to know the cruel details. I rather try to spruce the abyss up instead of looking into it, if you understand what I'm saying."
Jayden looked at her and raised an eyebrow. After Kate Fender's statement, he had awaited Olivia Cooper to turn out pretty dumb, but she wasn't. Actually, she seemed intelligent. Cold and superficial, yes, but not stupid.
"So, you didn't talk to anybody about your husband's case?"
"No. Why would I talk about it? I only talk about it when he has solved one."
Yeah, because that's good press, Jayden thought, but didn't comment it.
"Was there anything special about your husband's call? Did he sound worried?"
"No. He was in a good mood. He promised to take me out for dinner, as a kind of compensation, I guess. Lately, our marriage was a little bit… rocky."
"Because he had an affair with Kate Fender."
The woman put the cigarette out in the ashtray. "That bitch", she said and took a new one out of the package. "Using her girl-next-door-charm to seduce him. She wanted him for ages. I knew that immediately when I first met her. But well, she couldn't compete."
"You must have been angry as you realized he was betraying you."
"Of course I was", she said and looked at him, her voice fierce. "I mean, how would you react? At first, I wanted the divorce. I had already filled in the papers, when I decided not to. James begged me to give it another try and well, basically, this marriage had certain advantages."
Yeah, like only working part-time.
"Speaking of advantages… How much money can you expect from your husband's life insurance?" he asked matter-of-factly.
The woman shot him a deadly glance. "150.000 dollars."
"Well, that's certainly an amount."
"Listen, I have nothing to do with my husband's murder. I didn't hire this sniper and I never said anything to anyone. If I had wanted my husband's dead, I would have simply poisoned him and made sure to get my ass over the border before sweet Captain Suther or the FBI had even realized he was dead."
He believed her instantly.
She put the second cigarette out and closed the door to the balcony. "Well, are we done? I really need to write that novel for the insurance company. I don't want to sleep under the bridge by next week."
"Sure", Norman said and turned for the door.
"And think about my offer. You'd look ten years younger in navy blue."
He rolled his eyes and walked out of the apartment.
Well, congratulations, Norman. This was a complete waste of time, he thought as he reached his car.
Just as he opened the driver's door, his cell phone rang. He fetched it out of his pocket and looked at it. The number on the display didn't seem familiar to him.
For a second, he wondered if Jamie was now trying to call him anonymously, but then he dismissed the thought. Jamie had never been a coward.
"Norman Jayden", he answered the phone.
"Lauren Teason."
He raised an eyebrow. Well, that was a surprise.
"I hope you called me to tell me you found something", he said.
"Why? No luck with the colleagues?"
He believed to hear satisfaction in her voice. "Not yet."
"Well, I'm really sorry to disappoint you, but until now, I haven't got anything new. Which is, actually, the reason I called. I want to send a request to the Chicago police department and get the other bullets. But Garland is on a presentation the whole day and I'd like to get them as soon as possible. I thought maybe you could manage to come to the office shortly so we can send the request before two o'clock. Chicago should be able to send the package with today's mail and it would arrive tomorrow."
"Yeah, sure. I need a coffee, anyway. Listen, I'm gonna call you as soon as I'm in the office."
"Great. Thanks."
And she hung up. He looked at his phone and wondered if he should save the number. Well, they were working on the same case. He'd probably have to call her one day. He opened the address book and entered it, then got into the car.
FBI Headquarter,
Washington, D.C.,
Agent Norman Jayden's office,
4th January 2012, 12:33 p.m.
Norman had already filled in most of the request documentary as Lauren entered his office.
"Hi", she said in her usual calm voice.
"Hi", he replied back. "So, you want the bullets? Anything else?"
"Nothing I could think of."
He nodded his head slightly and filled in the last line. "I already called Chicago. They'll send the package as soon as the email arrives", he told her and printed the document, handing it over to her.
She took it and read over it quickly.
"Thank you", she said. "I didn't want to interrupt your investigation."
"You didn't. As I said on the phone, I wanted a coffee, anyway", he said, somehow feeling uncomfortable with her rather friendly behavior. "Besides, your progress is my progress as well, isn't it?"
"Probably", she replied. "So, Kate Fender didn't give you any lead?"
"Well, she told me that Cooper's wife wasn't too lucky as she found out Kate and her husband had had an affair."
"Naturally", Lauren said.
"So I interrogated Misses Olivia Cooper as well. But I'm pretty sure she isn't involved. The only thing she cares about is Cooper's life insurance. Somehow, it seems as if she only married him for this and the good reputation."
"Maybe she just didn't get along with her husband never being at home. It's rather hard to keep a relationship going when you work 50 hours a week. I guess that's why most police officers end up together. To avoid false expectations."
Norman raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "Are you speaking out of experience?"
"No. I'm just rational."
"Well, I bet you could date every agent in the building, if you want it rational", he said a little ironically.
"Including you?" she asked back.
For a moment, he was stunned. He had obviously underestimated her debating skills.
"I'm sorry, you're not my type", he said smoothly.
"What a pity. Well, I guess I'll better go back to the ballistics, so nobody sees my tears", she said and walked out of his office.
Carlos Campillo's apartment,
New Hampshire Avenue,
Washington, D.C.,
4th January 2012, 14:02 p.m.
As Jayden walked to the second floor of the apartment building, he felt slightly discouraged. At the moment, it looked as if Lauren had been right about the "loyalty" thing between police members. He wondered how it was to work like that. Trust everybody. Chat with everybody. There were agents in the FBI who acted like that, but he had never wanted to become one of them. He was glad to work alone. He could do everything on his own way, without a partner trying to interfere. He rang the doorbell to apartment 2C and hoped this wouldn't turn out just as useless as his other two interrogations.
The door was opened by a tall, muscular man in his early thirties. His hair and eyes were black, his skin tone a little darker than Lauren's. He was the kind of man women looked after on the street.
"Yes?" he asked with a slight hint of a foreign accent.
"Carlos Campillo?"
The man nodded his head and Norman fetched his badge.
"Norman Jayden, FBI. I'd like to ask you some questions about Officer Cooper."
"Ah yes, you FBI guys stole the case, didn't you?" he asked hostile.
"We only followed the protocol."
"Sure you did", Carlos said and stepped away from the door.
Jayden followed him into the little apartment. Campillo didn't offer him a seat, either.
"I heard Livingston's been shot as well. You don't seem to make much progress, do you?" the man asked.
"We follow some leads", Norman replied, already unnerved of the guy's behavior.
"And what leads you here?"
"Captain Suther told me you knew about the case Officer Cooper got."
"Sure I knew about it. We were friends. Friends talk about such things. But I bet you FBI stiffs don't have any friends."
Norman fought the wish to role his eyes. Better make this one quick, before I get in an argument with this guy.
"Did you tell anyone about it?"
"No", Campillo replied, but his facial expression showed he was lying.
"You should rethink your answer", Jayden said quietly.
"Are you saying I'm lying?" Campillo asked, his voice dangerously low.
"I'm not saying it, I know it. But if you don't want to spit it out, I'm sure we can get an appointment with the lie detector."
The officer glanced at him. "My parents came from Puerto Rico to America, because they thought this was a better country to raise children. I was born here. I have an American passport. I joined the police because I wanted to help this country in its fight against criminality. I should be a detective right now. I earned it. But nobody promotes me. And why? Because my skin isn't white and my accent isn't right. So, I decided to improve my salary. But this has nothing to do with Cooper's death."
So much to loyalty. Damn, Lauren will be so disappointed.
"Whom did you talk to?"
"Just a guy from the press."
"You met him before?"
"No. He was new."
"Can you describe him?"
Campillo shrugged his shoulders. "Around 1,75. Slender. Brown hair and brown eyes. There was nothing special about him."
"Where did you meet him?"
"On the street."
"Did he tell you his name?"
"Robert Smith. He said he worked for an online blog."
Robert Smith and an online blog. Yeah, sure.
"I still don't see why this is relevant."
Well, this guy's surely not a fast thinker. No wonder he didn't get promoted until now.
"The sniper shot Officer Cooper just on the same day as he got the case. Don't you think that's suspicious? I mean, how could he know that Cooper was mingling in his stuff when he only got the case hours before?"
"Wait – you think that guy was the killer?"
"You said it yourself. You've never met him before."
"He wasn't a killer. I would have realized that."
"I doubt that", Norman said.
Campillo narrowed him. "Are you saying I'm stupid?"
"Well, selling out information that leads to the death of a friend isn't really a smart move, is it?"
As Carlos Campillo's fist met his nose, Jayden wished he would have saved himself the last sentence. He fell to the floor, tasting blood on his lips. His ears were ringing and pain shot through his head.
"Asshole", Campillo hissed. "Now get lost before I forget myself."
Norman raised his left to his nose to wipe away the blood, then got back to his feet.
"I should arrest you for this", he swore, still pressing his left to his nose to stop the blood from running down.
"Give it a try, prude."
Norman looked at him. Campillo's features were distorted with rage. Probably he could arrest him, but he was pretty sure the guy would put up quite a fight. And then again, he wouldn't get anywhere with Campillo in a cell.
Carefully, he backed up, not turning his back on the officer. He managed his way down the floor and out of the apartment building to his car and sat down.
His nose was still bleeding, his coat was smeared and he could even spot red stains on his shirt. He cursed silently and looked into the rear window. Well, at least, his nose had the same shape as before, so it probably wasn't broken. Not that this soothed the pain. His right hand shook as he opened the glove department for a tissue.
Fucking asshole, he thought as he opened the tissue box and pressed two on his nose. His body protested with pain as he pressed tighter to stop the bleeding. Finally, after five more minutes, the blood stopped flowing. He threw the tissues out on the street. His hands were still shaking, the tremor worse than before, just like the pain in his head.
Shit. I can't drive like that.
He needed a painkiller. Only that he had none. None except a blue vial in his pocket.
I shouldn't use it. It's not a painkiller. But I can't drive like that. Maybe if I wait a little longer, try to calm down…
He focused his attention on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale…This is a waste of time! It will never work!
Quickly, he fetched the vial out of his pocket, had a look around then opened it. His nose protested to the sniffing, but as soon as the Triptocaine had reached his nerves, the pain vanished.
Norman, Norman, Norman. Two doses in three days? Man, you're never going to quit, reason interfered.
Shut up, he thought. This was an emergency. It's not like I'm starting again.
Sure. First, it was only for the test shooting, now it was only for an emergency. Let's see how many other excuses you can find before you break down again.
I've got everything under control… I've got everything…
"Under control", he mumbled and started the engine, heading for his apartment. He needed to redress before he got back to his office and taught Lauren Teason a lesson about police loyalty.
Union Station,
Washington, D.C.,
4th January 2012, 15:34 p.m.
As a child, Jamie had enjoyed trips to Washington D.C. Wide-eyed, she had tried to catch up everything, the traffic, the people, the shops, the signs on the busses. Whenever her mother or father had taken her to the "big city", it had felt like the speed and rush of it pulsed through her body, making her faster, encouraging her imagination.
As a teenager, she had felt like the city offered every possibility and she had spent sleepless nights fantasizing about her future; when she could do whatever she wanted. She had dreamt about getting a job in the city and finally leaving Tracy's Landing.
But in the time as her nature turned from spontaneous and adventurous to rebellious and careless, the haste of the city had given everything a dramatic push, when actually, she would have needed something to tame her.
And as life forced her to grow up, the city repelled her more and more, an always present image of her failures. To her, it seemed like all her bad decisions had their origins in the city. And to be honest, almost all of her misjudgments had taken place here.
Therefore, as she stepped out of the train station and set her feet on Washington's ground, a shiver of discomfort ran down her back.
Take it easy. You didn't plan all this just to run away now.
She took a deep breath and put a strain of her mid long dark blonde hair behind her ears. She fetched her phone out of her purse and switched to the address book, scrolling down, stopping at the entry: Norman.
For a second, she felt intrigued to call. Maybe, if he heard she was in Washington, he would finally agree to meet her. After all, he knew how much trouble it caused her to come here, how many preparations she had to make. This was different to the hundreds of phone calls he had received from her. This was the last effort she could make to convince him she was seriously sorry. This visit was the ultimate confession of her care.
You betrayed me, Jamie. Now leave. And don't you dare to come back.
She returned the phone to her purse. No, it was no use. He wouldn't pick up. And even if he finally did, after two years of nagging silence between them, he would never agree to meet her.
To accept her apology, he would need to understand that her actions had been based on her clear devotion and love to him.
His forgiveness was all she wanted, now. First, she had tried somehow to convince him that she had had no other choice. That he had been dead in the water, because of his addiction.
But no matter what she had said, no matter how she had said it, he had never given in. To him, admitting being addicted had meant admitting he had failed and failing was the worst thing imaginable. While Jamie had learnt that failing was just like falling and that you simply had to get on your feet again, no matter how hard you hit the ground, Norman considered failing as the proof of his own imperfection and futility.
Sometimes, she blamed herself for not having prevented all this, somehow. But as Jamie had started to understand how dangerously he fought to reach a non-existent perfection, it had already been too late.
The truth was: she had been so focused on herself that she hadn't realized she was losing him to some sacred goals and praised glasses.
But still, though maybe it was all too late, though maybe she had placed her bets on the wrong plan, she couldn't give up. She would never give up.
FBI Headquarter,
Washington, D.C.,
Agent Norman Jayden's office,
4th January 2012, 15:57 p.m.
Norman still felt angry as he returned to his office. The pain had stopped, due to the Triptocaine, but the anger had remained. He didn't really know at whom he was angrier – Carlos Campillo, who had sold his friend out for some bucks and hadn't even realized what he was doing – or himself, for getting hit by the lunatic. Sometimes, he wondered if he should take another course in combat at the academy. It had never been his favorite subject, while other agents had only lived for it. He considered himself more a man for thinking than for beating. Or shooting. Or any other action involving brutality. One reason, out of many, while he had been on his own at academy, most of the time. Yet, ironically, he ended up in fights whenever he worked on a case. It seemed like fate loved to make fun of him.
He looked at the watch and furrowed his brows. He had called Lauren five minutes ago. What the hell was she doing? Manicuring her nails?
Just as he took the phone and wanted to dial the number of ballistics again, the door to his office opened and the woman came in.
"You called me", she said.
He put down the phone. "Yeah, five minutes ago."
"I had to finish a test shooting." She looked at him. "What happened to your nose?"
He ignored her comment. "We have a new lead. Carlos Campillo sold information to the press."
"He was a mole?"
Norman grinned wryly. "Yeah. I'm sorry I have to destroy your high opinion about police loyalty."
"Moles are a problem everywhere. If I did some research, I'd surely find one or two in the history of the FBI as well. And how does Campillo's business with the press help us out?"
"Well, apparently, the guy he talked to about Cooper's case wasn't a reporter. Campillo had never met him before, no newspaper reported about it and the reporter called himself: Roger Smith. And there's no reporter with that name in Washington. I already checked."
"You think he could be our killer?"
"Most likely. I bet Roger Smith is a fake identity. Nevertheless, you could check weapon database if there's a Roger Smith in Washington who owns a gun license. I bet it's a waste of time, but we'll better be sure."
"Sure", Lauren replied, paused and added: "You should see a doctor."
"Please spare me your advices. They only get me in trouble", he snapped at her.
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you blaming me?"
"If I hadn't listened to your stupid police loyalty report, then none of this would have happened."
"Yeah, I bet you didn't say anything to Campillo that could have provoked him", the woman replied sarcastically.
"It doesn't matter! He's guilty!"
"Of course it matters! Alright, what Campillo did was miserable, but Officer Cooper was his friend! How would you feel if you found out you were guilty for your friend's death?"
"I don't care how he feels, he…"
"No, you don't. You don't care about the feelings of anybody and you don't care if you fuck up with everyone around you. If you had played this clever, Campillo might have agreed to help us finding this Roger Smith. But no, you had to confront him with his failure, because that's the way you get your kicks, by proving that you are sooo superior to everyone and we should all bow before you. If I had been Campillo, I would have at least broken your nose!"
"You know what? Why don't you just fuck off?" Jayden said angrily.
Just as Lauren wanted to reply, a female voice behind her said: "Who shall fuck off? Me, or her?"
Puzzled, Lauren turned around. Behind her stood a woman in her twenties, arms crossed before her chest, her hazel eyes sparkling with amusement.
Norman stared at her as if she was a ghost. "Jamie?"
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you remember my name? Well, that's certainly a start." Her voice sounded was calm and controlled. She turned to Lauren and stretched out her hand. "Hi. I'm Jennifer Jayden. But just call me Jamie, everyone does."
"Lauren Teason", she replied mechanically.
Okay, wait a second… Did she say Jayden? This guy is married?
Jamie smiled at her slightly. "I'm sorry for disturbing your… conversation."
"We were finished", Norman said. "And we are, as well. Get out of my office, Jamie. Now."
"Yes, I will. As soon as you take your coat and agree to accompany me for dinner."
"Well, I'm glad you haven't lost your sense for humor", he said sarcastically. "Get lost."
"I'm not joking, Norman. You may be able to avoid my calls, but don't you dare to think I'll let you throw me out after I sneaked out under father's eyes just to see you. You will have dinner with me, if you like it or not."
"Or what? You force me?"
"Or I will check in into a hotel and visit you here every day until you finally give in", she said calmly.
He stared at her, his glance deadly. "You wouldn't dare to."
"Try it."
"Wait outside", he snapped at her. "And don't even start to believe this will change anything."
"No, of course not. You're made out of steel, aren't you? Except your nose, as it appears", Jamie said.
"Okay, well… I guess I'll better leave. I need a cigarette, anyway", Lauren said and stepped over to the door.
"Can I accompany you?" the woman asked. "Then I don't have to ask the secretary to call someone who'll lead me out."
Lauren felt the urgent wish to say no. Whatever was going on here – she didn't want to be a part in it.
"Yes, sure", she said and cursed herself. She should have just gone back to her office.
"Thank you", Jamie said and followed her out.
As they reached the front exit, Lauren prayed the woman would just walk off, but of course, her prayers weren't heard.
"Would you give me a cigarette?" the woman asked instead, just as she had lit herself one.
"Yes, of course." She held the package out to her.
"Alright. That didn't go too well", Jamie said with a sigh. "Listen, I'm really sorry I bolted in."
"No, no. I'm sorry… I should have gone immediately as you came in. I just didn't… know this was going to be personal."
"How could you have known? I bet my brother never mentioned me."
Stunned, Lauren looked at her. "Wait a second – you're his sister?"
"What else?"
"Well… his wife?"
Jamie shook her head and smiled slightly. "You thought this was a marital row?"
"Er… yes. You said you had to sneak out under your father's eyes to see him, but if you are his sister, that means you had to sneak out under his father's eyes as well…"
"It's complicated", the woman admitted.
Obviously. And it's none of your business at all, girl.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… sound curious", Lauren said quickly.
"You're an agent, too, are you?" Jamie asked.
"Yes."
"And you're working with my brother?"
"Not really. I'm only responsible for the ballistic reports."
"And you argue over ballistic reports?" Jamie asked quietly.
"We had a clash of opinions", Lauren replied. "Or something like that."
"Well, I'm not surprised he argues with you", Jamie said matter-of-factly. "My brother doesn't get along with most people. Most of all, if they intimidate him."
"I think it's more a sort of antipathy."
Jamie shook her head. "Believe me, it's not. I could easily explain it to you…"
"You shouldn't", Lauren said and put the cigarette out in the ashtray. "I have no tendency to invade his privacy."
Surprise lit in Jamie's eyes, but she said nothing.
"I have to go back in", Lauren said. "It was nice to meet you."
The younger woman just nodded and Lauren entered the building. She walked down to the ballistics, trying to forget all she had just heard, but her mind couldn't let go. Nothing about it added up. And if there was one thing Lauren hated, it was when stories didn't add up.
A/N: Ten pages? I must have lost my mind. Anyways, reviews are love, even if you want to tell me you hated it. So, don't be shy.
