Gorehound |-/ Joshler

Chapter Thirteen: We All Need To Be Wanted

If there was a better way to spend an afternoon, Aurelio couldn't think of it. Either because his brain had been torn apart by this case or he genuinely liked what he was doing at that moment.

Deep in the bowels of the Arcata Police Department, Sergeant Aurelio Talavera flipped through the files of every convicted criminal in the area where the victims were last seen. Sitting in the dimly lit archive, armed with a pen and paper and a ferocity like no other, he bore over every single page until his eyes felt like bursting from their sockets.

So far, he had a list of 47 men and women and only five provided leads with rap sheets of attempted kidnapping and murder. Armed to the teeth with a list of interviewees, Aurelio turned to leave, only to come face to face with Tamara.

She was so silent in her approach that he had failed to hear her, whether it was due to his absentmindedness of being swallowed by the case or her stealth, and screamed in terror, jumping back.

"Whoa!" She cried, recoiling herself and laughing. "Slow down, Super Sleuth."

Once again, Tamara had taken a stab at being humorous in the middle of a life or death situation and it was driving Aurelio crazy. Already agitated and in a deductive frenzy, he snapped on her.

"Slow down? Slow DOWN? Tamara, five people have been abducted, including a cop. Then, we got her goddamn tongue in the mail. You keep making jokes, you don't take this seriously, but I DO. So if you're going to keep doing this, I suggest you get out of my way."

Tamara wasn't phased. She had known Aurelio for most of her life, she knew how he could get. She also knew what was important to him. Everything else in his own life took a back seat at the cost of finding the killer.

"Aurelio..." she sighed, crossing her arms. "I only say these things because it helps me deal with it. And yes, you do need to slow down." 

Aurelio scoffed.

"Hey, listen to me, buddy." She slapped his chest with the back of her hand repeatedly until he looked at her again.

"You need to slow down for them. For the victims. They can't rely on someone whose mind is pulled fifty different ways. How can you expect to solve a case when you're acting like Willam DaFoe in Boondock Saints?"

Aurelio laughed against his better judgement. But he didn't want to hold it down; she was right. He had gone manic.

Groaning, he practically gouged his eyes out by rubbing them with his palms. He was beyond exhausted and had the dark circles to prove it. It was a miracle he was able to stay awake in the dimly lit archive.

"God, you're right. You're always right." He moaned. "How are you always right?"

She shrugged. "Blame it on my being your emotional bodyguard for 17 years."

"Since when did the term 'friend' get replaced by 'emotional bodyguard'?" Aurelio questioned, removing his hands from over his eyes.

"Since I started keeping track of your bowel movements because you kept forgetting to take a shit during the Mayfield case." Tamara said simply.

"Fair point."

"I know. Now let's get you upstairs. Captain called a meeting."

That was perfect timing. Aurelio gripped the folders tight in his hand and led the way back to the 3rd floor where they joined the other detectives in the conference room.

The place was packed. Aurelio and Tamara found it hard to pick a small square of space to squeeze into. Getting a chair was a pipe dream. So Aurelio kept his files tight against him and gave the stink eye to anyone to dared to brush it with their suit coat or hand.