Fallen

Chapter 10

Toby's car was awesome. If I ever owned a car, I would be scouring all of America for one almost exactly like it. Awesomeness aside, it was almost unbearably slow! I couldn't keep my foot from tapping on the floorboard the entire fifteen minutes it took to get to the sister's office. Toby grit his teeth during, barely tolerating the constant motion.

"Could you stop, please?" he asked through his clenched teeth, barely able to keep the brunt of his frustration from reaching his normally calm voice. I made a serious effort and managed to slow the thump down to a bearable tap as if it were to the rock music quietly playing from the speakers.

"I'm sorry," I answered him apologetically. "It's just this is taking forever."

"We've been on the road for fifteen minutes!" Eliza exclaimed from the backseat. I nodded.

"Yeah, that's the problem," I replied, still fighting the urge to tap my foot and supersonic speed again. "I could have been there fifteen minutes ago."

"Us mortals couldn't, though," Toby replied, like he always did. This wasn't the first time this conversation had played out. "And besides, we've arrived."

"Thank God!" I exclaimed as Toby pulled into the parking lot. I bolted from the car as soon as Toby found a space and shook myself, trying to get the clench in my muscles to ease. Ugh, maybe I'd never own a car.

"Aren't you some kind of martial arts master?" Eliza asked, stepping out of the car and eying me curiously. "Aren't you guys supposed to be all patient and freakishly calm all the time? Not going batshit crazy after a short ride in the car?"

"Most fights are decided within a minute or two at most. And do you see anyone around trying to fight me?"

"I might if you thump your foot through the floorboard again," Toby grunted, walking past me. I pressed my palm against my forehead in shame.

"I apologized for that! How long are you going to keep bringing it up?" 

"Until you pay me back," Toby replied without a glance back at me. Eliza and I hurried to catch up to him. Human hurried, anyway.

"But I bought you that sandwich! Doesn't that make us even?"

"Not even close," was Toby's gravelly answer as he pushed open the door to the low building. He led our group right up to the receptionist's desk and flashed his badge.

"Detective Brant, I'm here to see Ms. Mills," he said to the dark haired woman behind the desk with far too long acrylic nails. She nodded and punched a button on her phone.

"Excuse me, Ms. Mills. There's a Detective Brant to see you."

"Send him in," another woman's voice came back through the speaker. The receptionist pointed to the door to our right. Toby nodded his thanks and headed for the door with us close behind him.

"Hello, Detective Brant," a woman in a gray suit greeted us as we entered. I quickly examined Ms. Mills. She was younger than her brother, that much was clear, probably somewhere in her early to mid-thirties if I had to guess. Her hair was honey blond and caught neatly in a tight bun, and her eyes, while brown, still managed to be cold. From her attire to the way she stood she looked like she was kind of woman who would emasculate any man who dared to offend her within five seconds. 

"Ms. Mills," Toby replied normally, offering his hand to the woman. Ms. Mills took his hand and gave it a terse shake. "I'm sorry that we must meet under such grim circumstances. You have our condolences."