The Blonde Butcher

Chapter Twelve

It was noon. I walked to Starbucks and saw Moira sitting by herself at a table. I walked up to her. She looked up at me with wide eyes. Her eyes were deep blue, like the ocean. They reminded me of the Mediterranean Sea back in Lebanon. Beautiful.

"Hello, Detective." Moira said with a sad face.

"Hello, Moira. Please call me Sarah."

I take a seat opposite to Moira and glance at the menu. I already know what I'm going to order, Coffee, black. A young waiter comes to take our order.

"What will you two ladies be having?"

"I'll just have a coffee, black." I say quickly. I look at Moira, who seems to be staring into space.

"What can I get you, ma'am?"

No answer.

"Moira."

"Yes?" She looks scared.

"What would you like to drink?"

"Oh, I'll have a caramel Frappuccino. Please."

"Okay, I'll be back with your order shortly." he walks away.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yes. I am okay. I'm just... I'm just concerned."

"About what?"

"My fiance, Tom." She takes a long pause. I don't exactly know how to be a 'girlfriend', so I just wait until she continues. "Tom is acting strangely."

"How so?"

"He seems distant. He's always out at night. He says it's for work, but I called the office last night and they said he left at the same time as usual."

"You think he's having an affair?"

"What?!"

I feel myself panic ever so slightly. Was I not supposed to say that? I fumble over my words.

"Well, I just assumed. Isn't that what normally happens when your husband doesn't come home and lies about his whereabouts?"

"Yes, but you don't need to point it out so quickly."

She loses her voice and begins to tear up. I feel bad for her. She seems to love Tom very much and clearly he isn't treating her right. I know I wouldn't be able to give up my career for anyone.

"Maybe he's planning something for you. You never know. I'm the last person you should trust giving relationship advice."

"Thank you. I trust my husband. He's a good man. He's been good to me and looked after me."

"Well then. I'm sure it's all fine then." I smile awkwardly.

"Why aren't you dating, Detective?"

"Sarah." I say with a slightly annoyed tone.

"Sorry, Sarah, " I could hear the struggle to pronounce my name, "why aren't you dating?"

I feel my face begin to flush. I don't date because... I'm impossible? I'm a b*tch?

"Uhh, I'm just busy. Work takes up a lot of my time."

"Speaking of work. Have you gotten closer to figuring out who this Blonde Butcher is?"

"I can't really discuss anything with the public, but I will tell you that we're getting closer every time."

"That's good. I hope you catch him."

"I hope so too."

Moira looks at me with a more relaxed demeanour.

"Where are you from?"

"Well, originally from Lebanon. My family moved here to get away from the civil war."

"That would explain your name." Moira grins nervously.

"My name?"

"The way you pronounce it."

"Yeah. It wasn't easy getting American people to pronounce it as (Saara) instead of the usual 'Sarah'.

"I like it. It's very fancy."

I let out a laugh. 'Fancy'? Not really. It was cute how she thought it was though.

"Where are you from?" I ask inquisitively

"Spent some time in Kansas growing up, but spent most of my time in St. Louis, I've been around."

"Sounds like an exciting childhood."

"Sure, not half as exciting as escaping a civil war."

We both chuckled for a moment. This is fun. It feels good to have someone to talk to.

My phone starts ringing. It's Jay.

"Shawkat."

I grab my jacket and my keys. I take some money out for the coffee.

"I'll be right there." I hang up the phone while Moira stares blankly at me.

"I have to go, there's another case."

"Another victim?" she asks with a concerned look on her face.

I pause before answering, "Yeah." I run to the door.

"I'll talk to you again?" she shouts over to me.

"Yes!" I shout back. I hope I didn't ruin my one shot.