always red.

Chapter 10 - O

Ezra

'To whom it may concern'

Claire forwarded me the email from Paloma. She didn't want to work with us anymore.

'I've made a mistake. With all that is going on with my family and I, I believe it is best I do not get too involved. I apologize for any inconvenience.'

Too involved.

Her absence of contractions comes off as pretentious and simple-minded. I hated when people did that. Who are you trying to impress?

I sat at my desk flipping through the notebook I bought at Walgreens the other day to keep up with the Naomi case. Detective Crosby sat a few feet next to me, munching on a bag of Bugels and listening to something loud in his air pods. Completely unbothered and uninterested.

I had no appetite since Claire and I had our meeting at Jerry's snow cones. How could I eat? This case was serious and had more to it that what met the naked eye.

It needed to be condensed, overturned, broken apart and put back together.

Looks like it was up to me and Claire to do that. Detective Crosby was utterly incompetent to take on a case like this and for some reason he wasn't being helpful at all. He wouldn't sign off on things. I'd find him 'accidentally' deleting files on our online documents. I'm not sure where he obtained his licensure in New Zealand or how he snagged a job in criminal investigation.

I made a mental note to do some digging on him later.

For now, I would be focusing on Naomi Love's bite mark, her husband Cyan, whom we know ample about, and her nurse buddy, Paloma. Something doesn't add up when it should.

Claire came over to my desk. The sight of her was refreshing.

She had on pink today.

"Hey stranger." She greeted with a smile. "Wanna meet up for lunch? Any new digs?"

"Sure, why not."

She waltzed away to the restroom. I could sense eyes drilling into my skull. Crosby. He was staring at me. I peered at him awkwardly twice but he was still glaring.

Now he'd made his way over, removing his air pods.

What did he want?

"What's up there, squirt."

What the fuck is a squirt.

"Hey."

"So...you and Claire."

"What about it? We're getting lunch."

"New digs?" He mocked. "I would hope you two aren't discussing the case. Because that would be illegal."

Unethical. Not illegal. The case is open for discussion. Plus, its been cold since 1990.

Maybe technically illegal but we work together. What the fuck is he on about?

"Why are you listening in on our private conversation?"

He started biting an apple.

"I would just hate for you to get caught up in something you can't get yourself out of."

I closed my laptop and steered my chair around facing him. I was getting tired of his attempt at intimidation.

"Let me put you on some game," He started, revealing a tiny piece of apple sticking between the gap in his teeth.

"Be careful around Claire. She's not the sweet, innocent girl next door you think she is."

The arrogance of him. What makes him think I fancy Claire? Has he been watching us? I doubt she'd tell him anything.

A woman exited the ladies' restroom across the hall. I was hoping Claire wouldn't walk out anytime soon and hear Detective Crosby's idiocy.

"Last case she was in, Blaise had to take her off. Apparently, she went bat shit crazy over it. She had to go to mental therapy." He said, whispering the words mental and therapy.

Honestly, I didn't find any of this gossip about Claire appropriate. There's actually nothing wrong with mental therapy. Those who scoff about it are the ones in need of it most, in my opinion.

"Thanks, detective. Good looking out."

"No prob, squirt. Just giving you a heads up."

Claire started walking back from the restroom, smiling at us before heading to her seat.

I could see her looking at us skeptically.

"Hey there, champ," Crosby nudged.

Jesus, two nicknames in one day. A record.

"If you have any problems with her, let me know. I'll be sure to tell Blaise."

I pursed my lips.

"Thanks."

"Bro...I got your back. Just remember to keep your nose clean."

Will do, champ.