Doubt

Goddammit, she's good.

I stalked through the precinct with an invisible rabid dog nipping at my heels, scanning the casefile for the millionth time since I left the office. This case wasn't mine, I hadn't been a detective at the time so as much as I wanted to make the arrest, I didn't have time with my own cases keeping me locked up tight. My knuckles rapped against Detective Archer's door.

"Yeah," his voice called from behind the glass panes.

I swung open the door and closed it behind me. "You remember your Curtis case?"

He raised a brow. "Unfortunately, yes." Archer was the first detective on the case back in 2010, and when the case went cold, it got sent to my files until it was inevitably buried by a slurry of active and ongoing cases.

"I have a…consultant who just made a breakthrough." I tossed the folder onto his desk, and he began flipping through it. "She said Justice Curtis testified that he had been gone for two and a half hours at the movies, but the movie he referenced is three hours long."

"Okaaaaay," he drawled similarly to the way I did when Clary was explaining her theory. Archer was my senior by ten years, but length of time as a detective had nothing to do with smarts. He was notorious for letting cases go cold.

I understood Clary's frustration now that the truth was clear as day. "Archer, he didn't go to the movies, he killed Malorie. His alibi is burned. How did you miss the fact that the movie was that long? Did you even check with the theater for any record of him being there?"

The detective blanched. "Three hours? How was I supposed to know a movie could be that long?"

I scrubbed my hands down my face to keep myself from lashing out. "You're a fucking detective, it's your job to find things out. Fix it, or it's your ass this time, seriously," I threatened and left the room.

Nothing was more enraging than members of the judicial system failing to do their jobs, especially Archer with how often he drops the ball, but despite being Head Detective, I still had no power to fire him—that power goes to Captain Fairchild.

With an irritated grunt, I turned the corner to my office but found the door closed. I had left it open with Clary still inside, but something told me she went to explore again. Just to be sure, the lock unclicked with a turn of my key—and she was gone.

"Fucksake," I grumbled, stalking off to go find her for the second time today. I hadn't meant to barrel into her the first time, just bad timing, but I'll confess I was feeling antsy after she had left to explore the precinct and watched the clock hit 7 before jumping into action. Just to make sure she was still alive.

I had no idea where to start looking. As I passed the windows facing out into the parking lot at the front of the building, my boots screeched to a halt. The missing red sat outside on the edge of the concrete planter beside a skinny, disheveled-looking hippie. He pulled something from behind his ear and lit it with a pink lighter, which he then placed in Clary's open palm and offered the smoking cylinder.

"Oh fuck no," I spat and sprinted to the enclosed emergency staircase next to the elevator. My legs took three steps down at a time, sending me to the first floor faster than the elevator could. The lobby doors swung open on their hinges as I stormed out of them, but by the time I stepped foot onto the concrete, the guy was already leaving.

"See ya, cutie," he said, throwing a wink back at the redhead and taking another drag of the joint. The smell of weed stood stagnant in the already fog-ridden air. I quietly came up behind her and watched.

"Bye, Ethan," she called excitedly with a wave and tossed the pink lighter into her backpack. She did a cute little dance in the privacy of her own mental world while swinging her legs from her high sitting position on the planter.

The guy, Ethan, strode through the parking lot, nearly bumping shoulders with Simon, the Head of Forensics. The tech barely dodged his shoulder, turning in a spin and walking backwards to watch the guy stride carelessly across the tarmac. Simon's face was twisted in disgust when he turned forward again and raised an eyebrow to Clary. He must have seen their interaction as well judging by his confusion.

"Who was that?" I asked, popping a couple M 's in my mouth and coming to stand beside her.

She jumped slightly. "Jesus, don't sneak up on people—especially women. Most of us carry weapons these days."

"Do you?" I hoped for the best answer because of how oblivious she is when she boards the bus.

She grimaced. "No, but—"

"Who was that?" Simon chimed as he came within several feet of where Clary and I sat.

An irritated huff left her lips. "That's my friend, Ethan. He just got out of jail."

Simon grimaced. "Friend?—"

"Jail?" I asked, interrupting the tech.

She raised an eyebrow and looked between both of us. "Yeah, I met him when I went exploring this morning. He was cool—might even be my new best friend now," she chuckled and elbowed the tech, who didn't find that funny whatsoever as his scowl deepened. Him and Clary must've been closer than I realized. I'd have to investigate that some more.

"That's not funny, Clare," he stated flatly.

"Jesus, nobody wants to have fun lately," she sighed and turned towards me. "I'm assuming you're here to collect me, detective?" Frantic eyes scanned my empty hands. "Where did my case go?"

I opened my mouth to reply—

"Your case?" Simon butt in again. "Your dad finally let you give detective work a try, huh?" He threw his arm over her shoulders and shook her excitedly. I clenched my jaw in annoyance.

"He partnered me up with Detective Stubborn but, you know, can't say he's really giving me anything substantial to puzzle with." She gave me a pouting lip.

I rolled my eyes. "Let's get back to work and maybe if you stop disappearing and making friends with criminals, I'll give you unrestricted access to my files for ten seconds to pick one." The negotiation pained me, but she's earned it.

"Thirty," she countered.

"Twenty. Final offer." I crossed my arms over my chest, knowing I won.

Clary's green eyes visibly brightened. "Really—?"

Simon's fingers grabbed her chin to face him. "Or, you can hang out with me in the lab." The gesture felt strange to watch. It wasn't crazy intimate but also felt like it wasn't just friendly either, much like the way I grabbed her this morning. All I knew for certain was that I didn't like the way he touched her—

Was he trying to steal my partner? The realization hit me just as Clary's eyebrows stitched together.

She swatted away his hand. "Twenty seconds is an eternity, Simon, I can't pass that up." Her Chucks slapped the ground after she hopped from her seat, pulling down the length of her skirt from where it slid up to the fullest part of her thighs. I'm ashamed to admit that the movement distracted me for a couple milliseconds.

I chuckled and slung my arm over her shoulders like Simon had as we walked back to the doors. When I say I really tried to avoid sending the tech a smirk, it wasn't truthful—because the smirk I tossed over my shoulder had made his face fall into a sneer and, goddamn, it felt kinda good.