Every morning was the same for twenty-three year old Officer Corey Strickland. He rose at exactly four AM, replacing his hole-filled sweatpants with a uniform that was replaced far too often for his liking, ate a measly breakfast of whatever fillings he could place on a sandwich, and headed down the road to the local mum-and-pop café to grab himself a triple-strength espresso that he nurtured in his freezing hands at the same outdoor table, his eyes on the tiny clock that Grandmama Josephine, one of the owners of the café, had stuck to the wall.
And then, at exactly five AM, the table would rumble...
And here was where his day could differ.
Some mornings, he would catch nineteen-year-old Claire Miles, speeding down the road from the café, her sunglasses reflecting the early morning sunshine, her speed easily reaching triple digits on the worn-down road. It was on those days that his boss would be waiting at the office to give him a new case; often some grisly murder from one of the big cities that needed solving, since the police there had nothing better to do than pawn off their paperwork on someone else.
At which point, Miss Miles would oh-so-kindly offer to get out of their hair, since they seemed rather busy.
His boss usually agreed, gave Miles a warning rather than a ticket, and sent her on her way, leaving Corey to take on the case, and Miles a free woman.
Other mornings, he would catch only the glimpse of the dust kicked up and left swirling by Miles' car, the woman winking at him.
One morning, three months ago, he had risen out of bed at noon, having called out sick with an awful flu for the day, and dragged himself to the café to see a note stuck to the table he normally sat at, and enough change for his daily espresso. The note had been a crude, oddly detailed drawing of Strickland, depicting him shoving a speeding ticket up his sun-free passage, and had read: No tickets left for little old me, Strickland? XOXO, C.M.
Grandmama Josephine had almost stroked with laughter, having grown strangely fond of the barely-old-enough-to-drive girl, and had sent Corey home with a second cup of coffee and a bakery sandwich- on the house, of course.
'But today,' Corey had decided as his alarm went off, reading three AM, 'today would be different...'
YOU ARE READING
Triple Digits
Mystery / ThrillerClaire Miles is Triple Digit. Elusive, dangerous, and Mid-City's most wanted Street-Racer, she's been tearing up the tarmac of the small city for years, winning race after race, and building a name for herself in the underbelly of Mid-City's racing...
