Is It A Dream?

It's No Biggie

"I know, I know! I'm late!" Danny quickly told Baez before she could say anything.
"Did Linda have a breakdown?"
"Uh, kinda." He draped his jacket over the back of his chair. "But she's okay now."
"Good..." she looked down at the files, "so, uh... your sister sent over some files on Friday or whatever day it was. Definitely looks like we have copycats."
"Yeah, she called me about that."
"I've looked through all these files, and the only way to get to them seems like we just have to beat them to it."
"That's great... if we knew the who, where, why, what, when."
Baez shrugged, "I never said it would be easy."
"What about voice recognition?"
"I thought of that, too. But that's, like.... eighty thousand billion voices to go through."
"It'd only be about thirty five thousand billion voices, cause she knows it's a female... that's still a lot, though."
"I guess we could try it... nothing else is working."
**********
Linda looked at her ankle, ashamed of herself. She didn't understand how she was doing much better, and suddenly, she wasn't. She closed her eyes and sighed a shameful sigh. She watched the blood drip to the floor, cursing herself. Why, oh, why had she done that? She knew her history....
Linda grabbed a towel to stop the blood. On the floor next to her, she looked at the knife, laced with blood. She bit her lip, tears brimming her eyes; she was so grateful that the kids carpooled that morning. She was properly bandaging the gash when her phone rang loudly, making her jump out of her skin. She looked at the screen, and started crying; it was Danny, and he knew. Somehow he knew. She ignored it for a while, until the guilt over came her. Picking it up slowly, she wiped her tears and cleared her throat, "hello?"
"Linda," Danny sighed, relieved. "Good, you're home."
"Why shouldn't I be home?"
The detective frowned, he heard the fake calmness in her voice. "You okay, babe?"
She nodded, not trusting her voice. "Uh... uh-huh." She responded, realizing her couldn't see her nod.
He didn't believe that, but let it go anyways, "can you come down to the station? We think we may have a way to nab at least the girl."
"Okay, I'll be there soon."
"Good.... I love you."
"I love you more."
"I love you most." Danny hung up, and looked to Baez. "She did something."
"Who?"
"Linda. She did something bad."
"What?"
"I don't know. But she sounded guilty and in the verge of tears."
Baez frowned, "what do you think she did?"
"I don't know... ever since she was shot, she's struggled with depression and anxiety and self harm..."
"You think she cut herself?"
"Yeah...." Danny shook his head, "she was doing much better..."
"I hear a but or an and."
He shrugged, "there is no but or and. There's just... disappointment."
***********
"Okay, how about this one?" The technician, Mac, wondered, looking to Linda.
She shook her head.
"Do you remember anything about the voice? If it was high, low, raspy...."
"It was a New Yorker... maybe from the Bronx."
"Great, that narrows it down," Mac
rolled his eyes, sarcasm was his second language.
"Hey," Danny interrupted, "Don't be an ass, okay? Linda's been through a lot."
Mac muttered something under his breath, "any thing else you remember?"
"She wasn't from Staten Island, I know that." Linda looked at the screen as Mac cross referenced. "She sounded like a brunette."
"How do you sound like a brunette?"
She only shrugged, crossing her legs. She hit her ankle on the table leg, "Ow."
"You okay?" Danny put his hand on her shoulder.
"Yeah. Just hit my ankle, no biggie." She faked a smile, slightly raising her eyebrows, and wrinkling her nose.
Danny didn't believe that, but gave her shoulder a squeeze anyways, putting his other hand on her other shoulder. He didn't say anything, planning to investigate once he got home.

A/n
I do have a sequel in the works for this, guys; I just need to find a good place to end this one. This has turned out longer than I thought it would....
Happy reading