CHAPTER 5
“Did you call Rosenberg?” Tara asked while keeping her eyes on the road. It was her turn behind the wheel. They were going to visit the antique stores near the Civic Center Station, starting with the one nearest to it.
“Yeah, I called her last night.” Julian took a glance at his watch. They were nearly fifteen minutes late thanks to Tara, who overslept even though she swore it was accidental. He didn’t believe her at all. “She’s probably waiting for us.” He let out a sigh. It was surely going to be a long day for him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose,” Tara said, apologizing once more. “Seriously,” she added when Julian shot her an unconvinced look. As much as she dreaded to see Willow this morning, she really didn’t mean to have overslept.
When she turned the corner, they saw Willow sitting on the bench outside a flower shop next to a store called Enrique’s Antiques. She had let her flowing red hair down, instead of bunching the tresses up into the usual ponytail they were used to seeing. Tara unconsciously swallowed the lump forming at the back of her throat.
“Oh my god,” Julian breathed out when he saw her. Tara rolled her eyes at hearing the awe in his voice as she drove the car into the empty parking space in front of her. Willow stood up from the bench when she saw them pulling up, watching as the car came to a stop in the nearest parking space.
“Dr. Rosenberg! I’m so sorry for making you wait,” Julian called out as he hopped out of the passenger seat, walking briskly toward the redhead. “Maclay was being kind of a pig this morning.” He joked, earning him a rather fierce punch to his upper arm from the aforementioned detective and a glare afterwards.
“It’s okay. I didn’t wait that long.” Willow responded, smiling demurely. She was hesitant about meeting them, especially after the heated encounter with Tara the day before. She regretted the comment she made and had decided to apologize to the brunette in person when the chance presented itself, whether Tara would accept it or not.
An awkward silence befell on the three of them. Tara looked anywhere but in the direction of the medical examiner, while Willow just stared at the ground. Julian looked alternatively between the two women, his hand still rubbing his upper left arm to relieve the throbbing pain caused by his partner’s fist. “Shall we?” he asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
Tara turned and walked towards the antique store, answering his question by action. Julian smiled at Willow and they followed behind the brunette, walking side by side.
When she opened the door, a high-pitched ring echoed throughout the cramped yet orderly store. The atmosphere inside was glum and the dark-green paint on the walls felt imposing. The smell of mothballs and cinnamon engulfed the air, assaulting the senses of the newly arriving occupants.
“Welcome to Enrique’s! Can I help you?” a man in his mid-forties with black, slicked back hair greeted in his thick native tongue as Tara entered and approached him. Julian chivalrously held the door open for Willow before walking up to the front counter.
Tara flashed her badge at the store owner and his warm demeanor faltered slightly. “Can I ask you a few questions?” she asked. The man nodded hesitantly as Julian joined his partner at the counter while Willow walked around the store, scanning for anything in relevance to the case.
“Hey guys, come look at this,” Willow called out and beckoned the two detectives to her position before they could start probing the man. She had spotted a series of wicked-looking knives on display in a glass counter toward the rear of the store. All five knives were dark in color but one of them, approximately six inches in length, had a sharp bladed hook.
Tara raised both her eyebrows in astonishment as she looked into the display case. Julian let out a whistle when he saw them. “That’s some nasty looking knives you’ve got there, Enrique. By chance, you sell one to anyone recently?” Julian asked the owner who was still standing behind the counter.
“Yes actually, about a week ago,” he said as he walked over to the display case. “It was a set of two, but the customer only wanted the one,” he proclaimed as he pointed his finger down on the glass, signaling to the knife with a hooked blade. “Normally, I wouldn’t break up the collection, but the times are hard and I needed the money.”
“Well, time’s about to get harder for you,” Tara deadpanned as she shot Enrique an unreadable expression, “I’m confiscating that knife as a part of a homicide investigation.”
“What, no, you can’t,” sputtered the shop keep as he looked from one detective to the next.
“We can, and we are,” Tara added, her tone never wavering.
“Listen, Enrique,” Julian said, cutting off his partner in an attempt to swiftly alleviate the tension. “We’re gonna collect it as evidence and once the case is over, I promise, you’ll get it back.”
Enrique gave the taller detective an incredulous look, disbelief written on his features, before he nodded his head in understanding. Removing a set of keys from his pocket, Enrique unlocked the display case and retrieved the weapon in question. Gingerly, he presented the knife out in front of him, delicately placing it onto the glass counter.
During the exchange with the shop keep, Willow held her breath, silently willing her body not to fidget due to the close proximity of the brunette detective. Tara was standing with half her body behind the medical examiner, leaning forward a little on her right hand which was placed on the counter by the redhead’s hip. She was looming over her, but Tara seemed to be unaware of it. They had never come so close to each other before, their bodies almost touching. She released a shallow breath. Steeling her nerves, Willow reached into her jacket pocket for a zip lock bag and a rubber glove. Snapping the bag open with one hand, she collected the knife as evidence, being sure to avoid the sharp blade as she deposited the weapon into the evidence bag.
“Now, who did you sell it to?” Tara questioned, her eyes skimming over the obsidian blade sheilded by the clear evidence bag before flickering back over to the shop keep.
Disdainfully, the store owner looked up into the detective’s cold, unbenevolent eyes before turning away. “Umm … to this guy who performs by the train station. But he hasn’t been there in the last few days,” Enrique said.
Julian pulled out a photo of Daniel Osbourne from the pocket of his jacket and showed it to the store owner. “Is it this guy?” he asked as he held the picture in the air.
“Nah, this guy is crap,” he replied flippantly as he tossed a hand in the air dismissively. “He stole Devon’s spot, you know. The guys been there for years and then this kid just swoops in and steals it.”
“This Devon guy,” Julian said as he placed the picture back in his pocket, “is he the one you sold the knife to?”
“Yeah. I even gave him a discount,” Enrique replied in a sing-song manner. Walking the few steps necessary to reach the cash register, Enrique reached under the drawer, producing a thick, maroon logbook. Flipping the ledger open, he scanned through a few pages before finding the one he wanted. Spinning the book around so that the detectives could look at it, he pointed to the handwritten receipt depicting the description of the knife purchased.
Willow rubbed her temples in exasperation at the man’s blithe response. Julian shook his head in disbelief while Tara clenched her jaw in frustration.
“What’s his full name? This Devon fellow,” Tara probed, thoroughly annoyed by his ignorance.
“I’m not sure. He goes by Downtown Devon.”
“What does he look like?” Julian questioned as he shifted his gaze from side to side, looking for any signs of video surveillance in the store.
The Spanish man scrunched his eyebrows together as he peered up at the taller detective, approximating him to be about six foot four. “Thin bloke, brown hair, scruffy beard, about your height. “
“Anything else?” Tara drawled out in annoyance, the man’s description nearly matching half the population of Los Angeles. “Maybe a bit more specific.”
“Umm,” Enrique said, deep in thought. “He always wears a leather jacket, there’s an embroidered patch of a dog or something on the back. You don’t really think he had anything to do with this case you’re working do you?”
The detectives exchanged looks with one another, neither bothering to answer the clerk. Narrowing her jaw, her lips perched in a straight line, Tara motioned with her head toward the door. Turning and heading toward the store front, Julian pulled out his phone and began dialing Harris’ number. “Thanks for your help,” Tara called out over her shoulder as she and Willow followed in suit behind Julian.
“Hey Harris, I need you to do something for me. I need you to ch-“Julian spoke into the phone. “What did you say? I can’t hear you, hang on.” He made a vague gesture to the two women towards the alley next to the antique store before walking away.
Tara and Willow stood awkwardly beside the black BMW coupe. The former was leaning with her back pressed onto the car door, kicking at the dirt on the floor. The latter stood a few steps away with her hands clasped loosely together in front of her. They were rarely left alone with one another. Julian was always there, acting as a buffer.
Willow passed her teeth through her lower lip, debating internally on whether to seize the opportunity. “I’m sorry.” She forced out a few seconds later. Tara looked up and met apologetic green eyes. “About yesterday, I – “
“I don’t care.” Tara cut her off hastily, putting on a straight face. She looked away from Willow, choosing to look at Julian pacing back and forth in the alley instead, absorbed in his phone conversation. But, she could still see the redhead move closer toward her from her peripheral vision.
Willow frowned in annoyance. The brunette’s nonchalance getting on her nerves once more. “Why are you always being like this?” she questioned with a trace of anger in her tone.
“Being like what?” Tara shot back irritably, snapping her head around to look at Willow who now stood only a step away.
“This!” Willow made a waving gesture at Tara. “Acting like you don’t care. I’m trying to apologize to you and you won’t even give me a damn chance.”
Tara opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Julian.“ Harris is looking into finding us an address,” Julian called out as he approached the two women standing on the sidewalk. Tara turned to look at him with an irked expression while Willow continued to stare straight at her. He instantly sensed the tension when he reached them. “He said he’ll call when he finds something. In the meantime, why don’t we head to the Civic Station and canvas the area, see if we can locate this Devon guy ourselves.”
“Let’s go then,” Tara said flatly. Without another word, she walked to the driver side of the car, swiftly getting inside the vehicle.
Julian looked to Willow sheepishly due to the brunette’s action. “You gonna be okay?” he asked hesitantly.
Willow tore her eyes away from Tara, who was staring straight ahead at the parked car in front of her. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she assured, pursing her lips into a straight line as she gave a forced smile. Lifting the zip-lock bag, she gestured toward the item, “I’m gonna head back to the lab; check to see if we got a positive match. Go.”
Julian nodded before jogging around the car to the passenger side and got in. As soon as her partner had settled in, Tara started the engine and drove out of the parking space. He chanced a glance at the side-view mirror to see Willow standing sullenly on the sidewalk as they drove away.
“How long are you two going to keep this up?” Julian finally asked after several minutes of silence. He was growing exasperated by the constantly bickering duo. At the sight of Tara opening her mouth to respond, Julian quickly cut in, not wanting to hear his partners excuse.
“Listen Tara, eventually, Dr. Rosenberg’s gonna have had enough of putting up with your bullshit, and leave,” Julian said point blank, the thought had been weighing heavy on his mind over the past few months but he never wanted to admit it out loud, until know that is.
“Good,” the brunette mumbled under her breath.
“No, not good,” he huffed out in annoyance. “She’s the best damn medical examiner we’ve ever had. Dr. Groubert thought so himself, that’s why when he retired six months ago he left her in charge.”
“There are other M.E.’s that are just as good,” retorted Tara as she slapped down on the turn signal toggle harder than necessary.
“Like who?” Questioned Julian, his tone challenging as he glared at his partners profile. “Dr. Brady who doesn’t know his head from his ass?”
“He’s not that bad,” shot back the brunette halfheartedly.
“Not that bad? Not that bad?!” Julian nearly shrieked, a mixture of disbelieve and astonishment lacing his voice. “He cost us the McDougall case by contaminating the evidence. The perp walked on a technicality!”
“What do you want from me Julian,” she huffed out, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
“I want you to make nice,” he said simply. Off of the brunette’s glare, Julian continued. “You don’t have to be friends. I’m not asking you to bring her coffee and chat about your personal life, just be professional and maybe show a little bit of respect.”
Tara stayed quiet for a long moment, absorbing her partner’s words. Finally, she huffed out another lung full of air in defeat. “I’ll try. But I’m not promising anything.”
“Good, because I swear to God, Tara, if you drive her away, you and I are gonna have words.”
_________________ Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp. I Am Forever / A Special Christmas of Sorts / Maybe It's Just Me / Honeysuckle Rose / Blackouts and Breakthroughs / When Love Arrives
|