Paper Trails 2 | Draft

6.

"Because like the moon, she had a side of her so dark, that even the stars couldn't shine on it; she had a side of her so cold, that even the sun couldn't burn on it."

*****

"Detective Rochester," I sighed, leaning against the side of the open door and looking at him blankly. "What can I do for you?"

"Just some follow up questions, as promised."

"Hm," I pretended to think about it. "Yeah, I don't know. Normally, I wouldn't invite a man in on the first date..."

His eyebrows shot up. "Are you flirting with me, Miss Abrams?"

I snorted. "How'd you find out where I lived?"

He smiled. "I detected it."

Rolling my eyes, I opened the door a little wider, allowing him to step inside. He walked towards the couch where I told him he could sit and I closed the door before moving towards the kitchen.

"Something to drink, detective?"

"Coffee would be great." He called after me.

I quietly got what I needed. I heard footsteps and knew he was coming my way. We spent the first few moments in silence, before he finally spoke up.

"Would it be presumptuous of me if I ask why you don't like me, Miss Abrams?"

"Neila," I corrected, turning on the coffeemaker.

He hesitated before nodding. "Neila."

"It's not you in particular, Detective Rochester." I started, turning to look at him. "I just have an issue with law enforcement in general."

"That so? Why would that be?" He tilted his head to the side, trying to make himself appear curious, interested.

"Is this a social call or will the follow up questions be starting any time soon?"

He shrugged. "Just trying to be cordial."

"Not necessary."

After a few more seconds, he shrugs again and leans against the counter.

"I looked into you, Neila. At first, you could call it curiosity. But then—"

"Don't tell me you became obsessed."

He laughed. "Are you curious as to what I found?"

When the coffee was finished, I poured two cups and handed him one.

"Is this the part where you try to get into my head and recount my past? You gonna tell me about how my mom died, how my daddy was never in the picture? All the trouble I got into as a teenager? I lived it, detective, so that won't be necessary."

He smiled. "How do you know Niccolò Di Vio?"

I stopped, the mug centimeters from my lips. "Excuse me?"

"Niccolò Di Vio. Does that name not ring any bells?"

I dragged a tongue across my lips. "No. Sorry. Should it?"