She's a Man-Eater

8. A Girl's Best Friend

Lights flickered across the walls and reflected off the windows of the station. They formed colorful patterns against the otherwise blank walls. Accompanying the lights was a faint humming. It sounded vaguely like a lullaby if pitch had been increased a dozen times or so.

"Excuse me, are you alright?" A hand landed lightly on Jesse's shoulder. She jerked away and snapped her head around to look at the person standing behind her.

The woman was tall– nearly half a foot taller than Jesse, anyway– with olive skin and dark, pin-straight hair that fell past her shoulders. She had dark eyes and a remarkably strong jawline. Pamela. She was considerably more attractive in person than she appeared on TV.

She held her hands out in front of her somewhat defensively. "Sorry," she said, smiling, "I should have asked before touching you. I didn't mean to scare you." Her voice was warm, and small dimples appeared on her cheeks when she smiled.

Jesse brushed off her shoulder where Pamela's hand had been and said, "It's alright. I'm not fond of being touched." She slipped her hands into her pockets and turned back to the lights, but they were gone.

Pamela lowered her hands to her sides and said, "Again, sorry. You looked a little bit out of it, is all." She held out her hand to Jesse and said, "I'm Lieutenant Pamela Ramirez, and you're Special Agent Sawyer, right?"

Jesse quickly shook her hand and nodded.

"I don't think I was supposed to meet you yet," Pamela laughed to herself. "The Chief has been really serious about good first impressions with you since we found out you'd be coming." She tilted her head slightly, her bangs falling in front of her eyes, "I guess I messed up the good first impressions, huh?"

There was something vaguely naive and almost childlike about Pamela. Jesse shook her head and reciprocated the smile. "Not at all. I'm waiting for the Chief right now, actually. Do you know where he is?"

Pamela glanced over her shoulder, "You know, I don't think I've seen him this morning. Are you waiting for a tour?"

"Something like that. I'm supposed to meet the rest of the police force currently investigating the case."

"It's a good thing I found you then," She held out her hand like she might pat Jesse on the shoulder, but quickly retracted it. "I can take you to meet everyone else."

Jesse tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes, "And your boss won't mind? What about those good first impressions?"

"He'll get over it," Pamela waved her hand dismissively and turned around. She started down the hall, but Jesse remained where she was.

She turned around to face the wall, but the lights had not returned. The humming, too, was gone now.

"You coming?" Pamela was standing in the hall, looking over her shoulder. Jesse nodded once and followed her down the hall.

Nine. There were nine members of the task force. Ten if Jesse included herself. Nine people. Could she kill nine people if she needed to? She put the thought out of her mind.

They each introduced themselves, though the only name that stuck was Pamela's. Three of the nine members of the task force were women, the rest were men. If Jesse had to guess, she'd say they were all in their mid thirties to early forties.

One of them– a man with salt and pepper hair and a beard that needed shaving– droned on about the police policies and regulations. Jesse tuned in and out to what he was saying. She'd worked with the police before, though never this closely. The other members would occasionally chime in and add to whatever the man was saying. Pamela, however, stayed silent and watched her.