The Boy In The Crystal Ball

Chapter Nine: Stealing

Chapter Nine:

 stealing

Joanna stumbled into the precinct, catching the eye of the officer at the front desk. He immediately took in her scandalous attire, and muffled the receiver end of the corded phone he was holding.

"Is there something I can do for you, mam?" His deep baritone voice cut through the fog that was her mind, if only for a moment. The stinging of her neck was the constant reminder of her reason for being there.

"I was wondering if I could talk to Officer McDonough," Joanna mumbled hesitantly.

The officer at the desk looked her over, before speaking softly over the phone. He placed the phone in the cradle, then took out a notepad and pen.

"What did you need him for, exactly?"

Bristling at his tone, Joanna crossed her arms over her chest. "That's between me and him."

The officer immediately dropped his friendly demeanor, as he leaned over the desk to peer down at her. "I'd suggest you drop that attitude."

"What's going on in here?" A familiar masculine voice called.

Joanna turned her head to see Officer McDonough next to a sliding glass door. Behind him were scattered desks and officers bent over them. Unlike their first meeting, McDonough was now wearing a plaid shirt and dark black pants, with his jacket in hand; it was obvious that he was just getting off his shift.

The moment he locked eyes with Joanna, he couldn't hide his surprise fast enough, before schooling his features.

"Come into my office," he grumbled, holding the door open behind him.

Joanna filed in behind him, looking at the mixed gender if officers bustling around the spacious room. There was at least thirty hard wood desks, with files and papers covering the surfaces. Most of the remaining officers on duty were holding coffee mugs in their hands, speaking on phones or having their noses deep in papers.

McDonough tossed his jacket onto the back of a suede leather chair, before indicating to the simple wooden chair across from him.

"I haven't heard from you in a couple of days," he remarked, grabbing a blank piece of paper and pen. "What brings you here so late? Change your mind?"

Joanna curled her lip at his distasteful tactic, feeling her fingers burn an itch with anticipation. She couldn't sit still, not when the fiery hot tingling seeped its way down her spine. It was a languid trail, one that barely reached her shoulders now, but it was slowly numbing her system.

"I'm actually here for a different reason." Joanna leaned forward, her hair brushing her waist. "All my belongings from the night I got caught trespassing, where are they?"

McDonough raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care about them so much?"

"They're my belongings! Tell me, do you or don't you have them?"

"I can't really say."

Joanna's fingers dug into the wooden armrests of her chair; the anger that was festering inside of her grew into a blazing inferno. "Don't make me force you, officer!"

Without realizing it, Joanna had propelled her body into the edge of the desk. The frame shook with her weight, and her chair had tipped over.

Both of her hands slammed against the surface of the desk, forcing papers to flutter around her head. She didn't have to look to know that every officer pulled their weapons on her.

"Put down your weapons," McDonough yelled, his eyes never leaving Joanna's. "Now. Stand down."

Joanna sat herself back in the seat, the restlessness inside of her beginning to simmer down, but the numbing sensation began to spread to her outer arms and lower back.

"Dennison, grab the box from the back storage, it's dated from a few days ago with the initial J." McDonough tossed his notepad into a nearby drawer, before resting his elbows onto the surface of the desk.

The man, named Dennison, lowered his raised gun and marched off into a room on the far off side. He eventually returned with a large cardboard box in his arms, his gun now slung on his hips.

He dropped the box onto McDonough's desk, before returning back to his own.

"I'm hoping that whatever you need from here will put me in your good graces." McDonough said, sliding the box towards her. "Believe it or not, I'm on your side. I don't want to see you on the eleven o'clock news, dead."

Joanna brushed off his comments as she dug through the barren box. The moment her fingertips grazed the smooth glass ball, the restlessness inside of her stilled immediately.

Tucking the box under her arm, Joanna nodded her head towards the officer, before making her way out of the precinct.

The clanking of the crystal ball against her dirtied heels soothed the anticipatory wave thrashing about inside of her. The burning of her nape died, along with the numbing of her voluntary movements.

Joanna walked onto the desolate streets of her city with the weight of the world under her arm.