Kat Mysteries: High Profile

Untitled Part 1

"So, when you inevitably have a heart attack from eating a meatball sub everyday for the last month, can I have your car? Mine needs brakes and it would save me a lot of time and money."

Kat stopped mid-bite to give her partner a dirty look. Any opportunity she had, she liked to refer to Donovan as 'her own personal Regina George'. She knew it irked him when she said it.

"If I had a finger free, I'd answer you."

"Any finger in particular" he asked, winking at her. Donovan also knew just how to get under her skin, it was his favorite thing to do in fact.

She put down the remaining part of her sub, then cleaned her face and hands with a napkin. Donovan had kindly let her draft the report on their latest case. It was a breaking and entering, orchestrated by the boyfriend of the victim's daughter. The boy had accepted a plea deal in exchange for naming the other parties involved, including the fences he sold the property to. Unfortunately, the victim had waited for the boyfriend to arrive home from his final court appearance, and had assaulted him. Since the boy was a minor and his parents were pressing charges, it had thrown a monkey wrench into their otherwise, easy case. They had to make sure everything was completed for when the assault case went to court. She read over the pages then emailed the document to Donovan. Picking up her empty soda cup, she flung it at him.

"That hit me," he barked, as he picked it up and tossed it into the trashcan on the side of his desk.

"Did you think that was an accident? Check your email by the way, I sent you the B&E report," she rolled her eyes at him as she got up and headed in search of antacids.

"You know, you are the living embodiment of the slovenly, doughnut munching, officer that people conjure up in their heads when they think of cops."

Kat scrunched her face at him and slammed the door behind her. Things had improved over the past year between them, but they were still prone to their immature squabbling. She hated admitting it to herself, but she had learned a lot from him during the past year. That is, once she stopped focusing on everything he did wrong, and paid attention to his skill set as a detective. He would never throw it in her face, but she knew she was mainly to blame for allowing Clara Jordan, their main suspect for a double homicide a year ago, to get away. If she had allowed him to follow up on his instincts, the case wouldn't be lingering over their heads.

Her cousin Paul had recently been promoted to Corporal and given a broom closet office. He spent most of the day fielding calls and approving paperwork. It wasn't an ideal position for someone like Paul, who preferred the action that came along with being a uniform but it was a promotion nonetheless and he wasn't proud enough to snub his nose at a promotion. She walked right into his office without knocking.

He was on the phone and looked visibly irritated at her unannounced entrance. "Yeah, I'll call you when I'm leaving... I love you too. Ok...bye." He hung up the phone with one hand and with the other picked up a pen and threw it at her. "Why don't you have manners, why?"

She swatted the pen away before it hit her. "Oh please, calm down. Do you have antacids? I ate a meatball sub too fast and my esophagus is not happy with me right now."

Often mistaken for siblings, she and her cousin favored each other physically, the family would often joke, all you had to do was throw a wig on Paul, and there'd be no telling them apart. They both took after their mothers in the looks department. Their mothers were sisters, both average height with beautiful dark brown skin, hair and eyes. In their younger years they had successful careers as models, during a work trip they attended a party on a college campus. It was there that they met Kat and Paul's fathers, who were brothers. Never to be mistaken for models, it was intelligence and confidence that attracted the sisters to the pale, bespectacled, blue eyed, redheads.