Sketch of a Murder

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Nita brushed a strand of sweaty hair from her face as she punched the elevator button for the fifth floor. Sunday morning and what am I doing? Going to work. At least we don't do briefings on weekends. Good thing my social life is as dead as King Tut. I'd work 24/7 if it'd get this case wrapped up and get me transferred out of this unit of losers. Wonder what the others did to wind up in SCaT? Not my business. All I have to do is hang on until we close this case.

She stepped into her office. Though the laptops and cell phones provided for their unit were top-of-the-line, the governor hadn't popped for fancy furnishings. Consequently, the offices boasted dented metal desks, old black file cabinets, and rickety chairs. She'd bought her own ergonomic desk chair. The rest of the stuff she could live with regardless of dents, scratched paint, and cranky locks.

As she off-loaded her laptop and took the first sip of her hazelnut latte, through her open door she heard a phone ring across the hall. Sounded like it was in the lieutenant's office. Hip propped on the corner of her neat desk, she had a feeling it wouldn't be any use sitting down. She sipped her coffee and watched the doorway.

A couple of minutes later Lieutenant Williams popped his head in, a half-eaten Snickers bar in one hand. She arched an eyebrow in his direction. "Please tell me that was a break in the case."

He took a bite of the candy bar, and talked around the chocolate-coated caramel. "That was the case breaking us. We'll take my car. You can phone the others on the way." He spun and hurried down the corridor with long strides, his rubber-heeled shoes squeaking against the tile floor.

She grabbed her coffee, locked the door and jogged after him, catching up as the elevator doors dinged open. They stepped in, the doors slid shut, and she poked the button labeled lobby.

The building's lobby, with its high ceilings and abundance of light, gave the sense of stepping into a bright, airy space. As the lieutenant made fast tracks towards the revolving door, she hustled to keep up. Gary, the weekend's eight-to-four security guard, lifted a hand from where he sat behind the half-moon information desk. She lifted a hand in return before she slipped into the revolving door. The rubber strips at the bottom of the glass doors shushed as she pushed against it. She always felt like she was entering a section of transparent grapefruit. She hit the sidewalk a step behind the lieutenant but quickly caught up. Side-by-side, they moved at the same brisk clip.

He pulled a balled up handkerchief out of his hip pocket and swiped at the sweat beading on his forehead. She could sympathize, though she'd never tell him that. At a few minutes past 0800 the temperature already topped seventy humid degrees and kept climbing.

He stuffed the handkerchief away. "Why can't we have a normal, cool Seattle spring?"

"Global warming."

He slanted a disgruntled look at her. "No such animal."

Of course he'd say that. She let it go, not even glancing his way. No use getting into a senseless argument. They found enough to argue about without adding to the list.

When they reached his car, he unlocked the passenger door first. "This baby was made before keypads and air conditioning came with every car. I don't mind not having the keypads, they're just something else to break, but I sure wouldn't mind air conditioning."

She swung the heavy door open. By the time he slid behind the wheel, she had already secured her lap belt. "Be glad you're here in Washington with no AC. Heard the people in Denver, Colorado are suffering through a hundred and five degree temperatures. With no relief in the forecast."

She fought the urge to close her eyes when he darted into the choppy flow of downtown traffic. Better to die seeing it coming. Only one horn blared at him. She didn't think he even heard it. A couple of blocks later he signaled a right turn and headed up James Street hill to pick up I-5 North.