Blood On Her Hands

Chapter 30

Vincent swung the knocker into the door twice. Then we waited shoulder to shoulder in the hall for his coworker to open up.

I expected Mac to be groggy from sleep or at the very least slowed down by fatigue considering the time of night. Because of that, I thought I’d have a second to try and get Vincent to answer my question on what exactly we were doing at Detective Mac’s apartment. He hadn’t made it seem like it was official business and though my previous interactions with Mac indicated he was a friendly person, I didn’t like the idea of seeing outside of the context of the investigation. It was already hard enough to keep my relationship with Vincent categorized as work related. If I was being honest with myself, I had called Vincent earlier in the night not with the motivation of relaying useful information to him but for comfort.

Mac did not take very long to open the door though, leaving me without opportunity for further inquiry. I was left in the dark about what we were doing.

Around Mac's shoulders was a purple blanket he wore like a cape. He had on similar attire to Vincent, a button up and slacks but made it his own by pairing it with socks that had kittens on them. I had thought his french bulldog socks from my first encounter with him might have been a gag gift he wore for good humor but perhaps Mac was quirky enough to pick out the socks for himself.

"You've brought the girl!" he exclaimed in a gremlin voice, pressing his fingers together with a hunched back.

Vincent cringed. "I . . . have?"

We stepped into the apartment and Mac gave a slight bow in my direction. As if someone had hit pause on his strange behavior, he straightened and gave me a polite smile. “It’s good to see you again, Mickey. I hear you're being very helpful to the case.”

“Thanks,” I said, caught between the two conflicting worlds. I didn’t know whether to keep the professionalism I was inclined to or if I should lean into the causal air that buzzed around the mid century modern apartment. In a humorous sense, I got the feeling that I had walked into a trap. The trap being that if Vincent had been blunt with me about what we were doing, I may not have agreed to come. 

"Come in, princess,” Mac said, cycling his hands to beckon me further into the apartment. When Vincent scowled at him, he clarified. “I'm not being creepy. Tonight Mickey is playing as a princess. Usually I let people have more say in their roles but tonight must go perfectly."

I shot Vincent a look. He bashfully hung his coat up and scurried further into the apartment before I could grill him.

Mac inspected my expression and then snapped, pointing at me with a smirk. “He didn’t tell you we were playing Dungeons and Dragons.”

The game was familiar to me only because Julio had joined an afterschool club that played board games in middle school. The most popular one was Dungeons and Dragons but it would only go well for the group of students when Julio was the dungeon master. No one knew the rules like he did. I had never played it with him but I had caught fragments of the game from his child-like ramblings.

"Hi Mickey.” A woman with thick, brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail appeared under the archway leading to the kitchen. Her eyebrows were arched in a fashion that made her appear angry though her thin lips were forming a smile. She walked with such perfect posture that I felt myself straightening my own back.

“I’m Mac’s girlfriend Kyra. I’m also a detective at the station but I’m not assigned to your case,” she said, holding out her hand for me to shake. Her voice was deep and rich but had the same cadence of an early cinema star.

I shook her hand, taken aback by how strong her grip was.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Want something to drink? I have soda, coffee or water."