Grinded

chapter XIII.

"You look disappointed, Deputy."

The words of Erica's colleague, Daniels, seeped beneath her skin as she tried her best to not wear her emotions so freely across her face.

Even though what Daniels had said was more of an understatement – she was pissed. It'd only been about an hour or so since she had questioned Quentin. The teen was brought into the station with a worried look plastered across his face, demanding to know what they wanted from him. His parents looked equally as frustrated and upset, and they didn't waste anytime threatening Erica and her job over the so called 'ludicrous accusations' that the Deputy had.

If it was one thing Sunset Ridge had an abundance of, it was wealthy families that thought they were above the law. It was families like the Vaughn's and Beauregard's that Erica hated most about the Ridge; with a serial killer, it would only be a matter of time before they were caught and stopped.

Wealthy families, on the other hand, were timeless. Unfortunately.

"Yeah," Erica softly replied as she pulled on her jacket rigorously, "well, that was my gut talking and look where it's landed me. I should've listened to Sarah."

Daniels brows furrowed as he leaned over and playfully nudged her shoulder, "Rhodes, it's not that deep. You were doing your job, and a good one at that."

"Not that good if I was wrong."

Her chest tightened as she fought off the voices of her anxiety, desperate not to let them get to her. It felt like she could barely breathe in the compact lobby of the police station, the suffocating humidity wrapping its fingers around her neck as she took a sharp, shaky breath.

"I wanted to be right. So fucking bad," Erica confided with guilt. Guilt that her colleague must've caught onto from the way his face twisted into a longing stare of sympathy.

"Don't beat yourself up, Rhodes. Tomorrow's a fresh start. Head home and get some rest, you'll feel better in the morning."

Daniels was right; lingering around the station all night wasn't going to expedite the case, especially when she was running on just four hours sleep and a less than mediocre burger that the Sheriff dropped off for her when Erica had been running through some statements.

Erica took another steadier breath before nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, you got a point. You want a ride home?"

Her younger colleague shook his head politely, his red locks flowing gently as the air conditioning finally kicked in.

Typical. It hasn't been working all day, and when she's ready to leave, it starts up.

"Working late tonight," Daniels noted with a sigh of irritation, "but thanks for the offer. Appreciate it."

"Sure." Erica pulled on her jacket, eyeing up the door as the promise of fresh, cool air was just on the other side. "Have a good night, Daniels."

"You too."

Starting towards the doors, Erica walked with an eagerness in her step. She passed by a few other lingering colleagues, all of which were the ones working the graveyard shift tonight. One of the officers, Hendricks, briefly stopped her to offer a caramel custard donut but Erica was quick to decline, not wanting to be there any longer than she had to.

The entrance doors of the police department cracked open as Erica swiftly exited, grateful to escape the claustrophobic confides of the station lobby. There was a flicker of hope within her, a hope that her anxiety would stay behind and release her from its shackles for the evening. But, like she begrudingly anticipated, her anxiety was right there with her.