The Lure of the Lie: A Modern Detective Anthology (*On Hold*)

1 Float

Having stopped temporarily at the very bohemian coffee shop next door to my new apartment building, I made my way to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building and up the elevator to the office of my very grumpy new partner, hoping to make a caffeinated offering to appease his surly mood. I knocked once on the glass doors etched boastfully with the Federal Bureau of Investigations seal and the name Special Agent Jake Parker. He glanced up from his desk and waved off the young suited man in front of him in dismissal. The boy passed me on the way out, nodding and smiling nervously in my direction. He was young, very young, likely a Junior Agent if his heightened anxiety and blind obedience were any indication. Though blind obedience was a common factor in law enforcement if my own observations were to be believed.

I entered the office without being invited as Special Agent Parker flipped through the case file the boy had just given him. It didn't seem that he had any intention of greeting me. I approached and set the second coffee cup onto the desk in front of him. Finally, he glanced up.

"Good morning, Agent Parker," I addressed him cheerfully. He watched me for a moment as if he could discern my entire personality from that narrowed gaze. I waited, wondering if he could.

"Special Agent Parker," he corrected finally and not for the first time. I restrained the urge to smile as he stood up suddenly and began sliding his suit jacket over his standard white button up shirt and black tie. Then he grabbed the case file and the coffee and headed for the door without another word. I followed, keeping up easily with his long strides as he headed back toward the elevator from which I had just come. "We've got a case."

He shoved the case file into my chest as he leaned forward to press the elevator button. I took it and flipped through but, with one hand busy holding my coffee, it was virtually impossible. Finally, I gave up, and held it closed in the crook of my arm. He knew enough to tell me himself but he wasn't going to offer up the information without some prodding.

"Where?" I asked.

"Body found in the Potomac," he told me as the elevator arrived. "This coffee is crap, by the way. Where did you get it?"

He tossed the full cup of coffee into the garbage bin beside the elevator before hopping on. I joined him.

"Are you always in such a cantankerous mood, Agent Parker?" I questioned, curiously.

"No, no, no," he said with the waggle of a finger. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"That psychoanalysis crap. Not on me, okay? The last thing I need is my partner analyzing every move I make, looking for some sort of deeper meaning. Let me save you some time, Doc. I don't hate my mother, I wasn't bullied as a kid, and no one ever hit me, okay? At least, no one I couldn't hit back."

"I'm sensing some hostility towards the practice of psychology."

"Oh, are you?" he snapped. I raised a brow but otherwise remained silent, choosing to sip my crappy coffee instead. He was right. It was terrible. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of that now. "Look, I'm not sure how a therapist managed to get a badge and a gun but-"

"I'm not a therapist," I defended as the elevator reached the lobby and we headed toward the exit of the building. "I'm an academic researcher in the fields of Psychology as well as Chemistry with a focus on the forensic aspects of each. I've consulted for several government organizations on multiple confidential assignments and I've written many published articles on the applications of-"

He raised his brows as he opened the door for me to exit. I noted the chivalry despite his annoyance and imagined that would have earned him some points if I were keeping score. Regardless, I could tell I was losing him with my explanation of my credentials so I changed course.