by Amy Briggs
After Clayton left the two of them standing in Scott’s office alone, Dani turned to Scott and said, “Well, I guess you need to feed me now, so how about it?” Placing her hand on her hip, she awaited his reply with a smirk. While it wasn’t exactly how she would have wanted to end up going out with Scott, she was more than happy to spend the afternoon with him. She couldn’t get enough of how hot he was in his uniform; the stories were true, there’s something about a guy in a uniform. Her thoughts drifted to what it would feel like having those arms around her, sending warmth to her core.
“Yea, let’s get out of here. Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?” He asked.
“Well, that depends on if you have to come back to the office afterwards,” she gave him a devilish grin. Since it was getting later in the day, Scott recognized that it was awfully close to happy hour, so he had an idea of where to take them.
“I know where we can go, and no I don’t have to come back to the office. Let’s go,” he grabbed some papers he wanted to share with Clayton later and they headed out to Houston’s, a local steakhouse with a fantastic but quiet happy hour. He wondered why she asked if he had to come back to work, and hoped it was so they could have a couple drinks and get to know each other better.
Dani was quiet most of the ride, and fiddled with her phone until Scott finally broke the silence, “So, what are you doing over there?” He tried to take a peek to see what she was typing.
“Just blogging. I read a new book last night, and I’m posting about it,” she replied.
“Was it a good one?” He was intrigued.
“Eh, it was alright. I think the sex was pretty unrealistic if you ask me, but the plot was interesting. It was what we call a romantic suspense. Lot’s of crime and intrigue.” She had a stack of books lining up that she needed to read over the next few days, but she was more than happy to spend some time getting to know Scott that afternoon instead of burying her nose in books.
Scott laughed, having no clue what she was talking about, but enjoyed her enthusiasm. “Sounds interesting. Romantic suspense. Like real life,” he joked.
“Pretty much,” she smiled back. No one ever asked her about the books she read except for her followers of course, and she thought it was sweet he asked, regardless if he mean it or not. When they pulled up to the steakhouse, she raised an eyebrow, thinking that it was kind of fancy for a late lunch, early dinner thing.
“Is this place ok?” He took in her expression, noticing her apprehension.
“Yea, this works. It’s kind of fancy though,” she said hesitantly.
“Nah, I know the bartender here. Their happy hour, which starts in about twenty minutes is great, and I’ve eaten just about everything here and have no complaints. I come here kind of often because it’s so close to the office.”
Scott parked and went to the passenger side to get her door. He set his hand on the small of her back as he opened the door to the restaurant, sending a little chill up her spine. “After you,” he ushered her in.
“Thank you very much,” she realized she had been smiling the entire time she’d been with him; she was enjoying his company, and she barely knew him. She started to feel normal again and had only just realized it then.
Scott waved at a hostess, and pointed to the back corner of the bar, leading her along. “Is this spot ok? I figured it would be more quiet, and we can talk and not have to scream at each other?”
“I’d like that, thank you.” He was so polite, and she couldn’t stop staring at his chiseled jaw line as he spoke to her. He had the looks of a model; his dark hair styled like everything else about him, which was perfectly in place.
“Well, since we’re calling it an early work day, how about a cocktail? Jack and Coke for you?” He asked enthusiastically.
“You remembered?” She asked, surprised.
“Of course. I’m an investigator, I pay attention to things,” he winked at her.
Scott ordered their drinks, getting himself a beer, then settled into the seat next to her at the bar. He could smell her perfume when he got close to her, and she reminded him of summer flowers and laundry out of the dryer. It was clean and crisp, she smelled comforting somehow.
After they’d decided to share a bunch of appetizers instead of ordering full meals, Scott decided to really try to get to know this girl. She seemed like she wanted to talk, but had a shyness about her that he wondered if it was caused by what happened to her.
“So, where do you live Dani? Are you from around here?” He figured he’d start with casual conversation to get the ball rolling. He wanted to ask her more about the books and if she wanted to write, and how she got into it, but easing into the conversation seemed best since she appeared to be a bit apprehensive.
“Well, sort of. I have my own place which isn’t that far from here downtown, but I’ve been staying with my brother the last few months. He’s kind of over protective I guess. Not that I couldn’t go home if I wanted to,” she defended her own statement, not entirely sure how much she wanted to divulge.
“I have a sister, I know how that can be. Brothers can’t help but to take on that role, it’s just in our blood I guess,” he said, intently looking into those bright blue eyes again. I don’t want to make her feel like she shouldn’t stay wherever she feels safe and she doesn’t know I know anything happened. If it were my sister, I’d move in with her in a heartbeat.
“I’m probably going to go back to my own place soon,” she half whispered, deciding in that moment she wanted to be back on her own.
“Do you mind if I ask why you’re staying with Clayton? Did something happen?” Scott didn’t want her to know that Clayton had told him she was attacked, he wanted her to open up to him on her own, but only when she was ready.
Looking down, she sighed, and took a long sip of her Jack and Coke before answering. She pursed her lips a bit, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. She was trying to heal, and with that meant being open, and there was something about Scott that made her want to open up. As she glanced back up at him through her lashes, he was waiting intently for her reply which she found comforting. “Well, a few months ago I was attacked. It was kind of bad. I didn’t have anyone to take care of me except Clay because our parents are gone now,” she paused to assess his reaction.
Scott instinctively reached over, placing his hand over her hers, giving an encouraging squeeze, and not letting go. “I’m so sorry Dani,” he whispered.
“It’s ok,” she replied, squeezing his hand in return. “Anyway, Clay took care of me, and I’ve had a little bit of trouble being alone. I get scared by small things, like noises or shadows, and then my anxiety gets the best of me and I don’t feel safe. Sometimes even the darker stuff that I read will get into my head a little bit, and I’ll get scared again. Staying with Clay makes me feel safe, but I know I can’t stay with him forever, I mean I’m a grown woman, but it’s hard sometimes.” She hung her head again, dropping her shoulders and feeling self conscious and slightly embarrassed about her admission.
Scott took his other hand and raised her chin up gently so she would meet his glance. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of Dani. We all want to feel safe, and I don’t blame you one single bit for not wanting to be alone. I have a question though,” he said.
“What’s that?” She asked, meeting his eyes with hers wistfully.
“Were you afraid to be out alone with me today?” He scanned her face to survey her reaction, when she smiled at him.
“No. I wasn’t afraid at all actually,” she murmured.
“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” Scott felt a flutter of excitement and relief in his chest, knowing that she felt comfortable in that moment, with him. He dropped his hand that had been holding her chin up, but didn’t move the one he’d covered hers with in her lap.
5
Clayton knew that he had to confer with Seth Lane, and he hated asking that guy for help, but he was well aware that Seth was the only guy that co
uld offer any insight into a case with this many oddities.
“Hey man, I got a weird one, you got a minute?” He barged into Seth’s office taking a seat.
“Uh, sure, have a seat, you dick.” he waved his hand to where Clayton was already sitting with a grin. “What can I do for you?”
“So, check this shit out dude. I’m working on this case and it's weird as shit. I got the autopsy report back on my vic, and while it’s an apparent gunshot wound that killed the guy, there’s absolutely no evidence of residue, a bullet, type of actual weapon or anything. There’s no forensic evidence. At. All.”
“What do you mean there’s no forensics? That doesn’t make any sense,” Seth raised his eyebrows and wondered what in the hell Clayton was talking about. “This some kind of a magic disappearing bullet? You sure you didn’t miss it at the crime scene?” Seth didn’t mean to sound like a dick, but it was all together possible to miss a bullet casing on a scene.
“Yea I’m fucking sure I didn’t miss it,” Clayton retorted. “It wasn’t a through and through. The bullet should have been inside the vic, but it wasn’t. Completely disappeared,” he replied smugly.
“Check your burn marks, that can be traced,” Seth replied.
“Dude, you’re not listening to me. I didn’t just graduate from the academy like that rookie you have following you around. There’s no gunpowder residue, no burn marks. There is literally nothing, except a gaping hole in a dead guy, that has all the looks of a gunshot, but there’s zero other evidence of how this hole got in this guy, and what made the hole.” Clayton was getting exasperated with the bullshit rookie advice Seth was offering up.
“Okay, okay, let me see the file. That is weird,” Seth reached out and took the file from him. Thumbing through the file and examining the autopsy photos, Seth started thinking out loud. “So, this looks like a large caliber from like what, ten feet away? No bullet, no casings - good fucking lord, could this be an ice bullet?” He suggested, even questioning this theory himself.
“An ice bullet? Are you kidding me? That’s your thought? Like a cartoon?” Clayton replied sarcastically. “Isn’t that shit science fiction? Total bullshit?”
“Well, normally I’d say yea, but you have nothing else,” he said. Thinking back to a time that his wife Zee was crunching on some ice while cooking when he came up behind her to surprise her by tickling her. She was so shocked that the ice flew out of her mouth into a pot of boiling water for pasta, obviously melting immediately. This whole scene replayed in Seth’s mind, making him think of ice bullets. They’d melt once they entered the body since it’s so much hotter than ice, so theoretically it was feasible.
He continued, “This guy was definitely shot. Look at him. Why don’t you have Melvin down in the lab do an analysis of the tissue around the wound, he’s an ecology and biochemistry brainiac, so he should be able to tell what kind of fluid, or molecules or whatever is around the hole. It’s a fucking long shot, but it looks like a long shot is all you have right now,” Seth was intrigued himself. People had tried to make ice bullets before, but usually they would shatter or melt by the time they got from a firearm to the target, so it did seem more like science fiction than reality, but sometimes the long shot wins.
“Well fuck. I was hoping we’d come up with something less ridiculous,” Clayton muttered.
“Yea, I’d love to offer up more, but I see exactly what you see man. I think your best bet is to have him look for impurities and shit that could lead you to a water source or something and then you can narrow it down from there. Right now brother, your best bet is the nerds we have locked up down in the basement,” he said with a slight chuckle and a shrug.
Sighing, Clayton conceded, “Yea, looks like you’re right. Well, that’s one step closer, I wouldn’t have considered the nonsense of an ice bullet, but let’s roll with that for now. Thanks for taking a look at this.”
“Anytime, let me know what you find out. This is an interesting one,” Seth replied as Clayton got up.
Clayton took his files back from Seth and made his way down to the basement to talk to the lab boys.
Melvin was hunched over a long silver table, making notes and humming to himself when Clayton knocked on the doorframe to announce his presence. While normally he didn’t give a shit about disturbing people and typically barged in wherever he felt like, when it came to the lab guys, he was far less invasive.
Looking up through his thick glasses, Arti waved him in, “What’s up detective?”
“So, I’ve got a theory; I think maybe my vic was shot with an ice bullet. I know it sounds crazy, but I’d like you to look into that as a possibility.”
Letting out a stifled chuckle, Melvin replied, “Yea, so we’ve already looked into that theory, it’s a no go.”
“You already looked into ice bullets? I considered that a long shot,” Clayton said.
“Yea, it is a long shot, but that’s my job. Looking into the long shot. Anyway, it’s not ice,” he replied.
Clayton interrupted him, “Well fuck, if it isn’t ice, what the fuck could it be?” Clayton was becoming exasperated with this case.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, let me explain. We did find something,” Melvin put his hand up in a stopping motion to get Clayton to shut up for a moment.
“Okay, okay, what did you find?” He raised his hands as if in surrender.
“Well, we tested for properties that would be found in water. Chlorine, fluoride, that kind of stuff, and we didn’t find any. But, we did find a significantly higher than normal amount of iron in the blood around the victim’s wound. That led us to test another part of the body furthest from the hole, and what we found was two different blood types.” Pleased with himself, he waited for his pat on the back from Clayton.
“So you’re telling me, that there were two different blood types found in the body? One around the bullet hole, and an entirely different blood type elsewhere in the body?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Melvin grinned.
“Jesus Christ! The bullets are made from blood?!” He exclaimed.
“That’s our official findings Moore. No joke. This is science fiction shit right here. The perp somehow used blood and formed them into projectiles like bullets, so they melted inside the body before any evidence could be found on the scene, and he probably assumed that with the blood around the wound, it would just mix in and never be traced. It’s quite brilliant, really.”
“Fucker. Have you done an analysis on the blood and started to run it through the FDDU database?” The FDDU, the Federal DNA Database Unit, was relatively new over the last decade, and contained the DNA samples of criminals and wanted persons all around the world.
“It’s still processing. DNA match is something you can’t rush, so we wait. Hopefully it’ll come up with something. I can call you as soon as it’s done, but it probably won’t be until at least morning tomorrow.” He shrugged his shoulders. As a man who spent the majority of his time waiting on results, he was no stranger to the waiting game.
“Yea, that would be great. Nice fucking catch Melvin,” Clayton congratulated him with a pat on the back.
Motherfucking bullets made of blood, Clayton thought to himself. What a fucking sicko. Where did the blood to make the bullets come from was the next nagging question, and he couldn’t think of a way to make bullets from blood that wasn’t perverse. All he could think was that there were probably more victims already, or coming their way soon.
“So, if the bullets are made from blood, frozen blood at that, how the fuck were they shot out of a gun without melting upon firing?” He asked.
“No clue man, you’re the detective. My job is to give you the science. If I come up with a theory from comic books I’ll let you know,” he laughed, only half joking.
6
Scott and Dani had spent the rest of the afternoon at Houston’s, having drinks and talking. Happy hour had come and gone, and Scott somehow managed to find small wa
ys to touch Dani without it being too obvious, or so he thought. She of course, thought that it was sweet, and her attraction to him was growing exponentially as they talked about their childhood, their jobs and the things they enjoyed doing in their spare time.
“So wait, you color, like in coloring books?” Scott laughed.
“Yes! It’s not like little kid cartoons and shit, shut up! Don’t knock it til you try it buddy, it’s very soothing to color designs and stuff. I’m going to make you try it.” Dani poked him in the ribs, immediately noticing how hard his abs were, causing him to flex them.
“Well, if coloring is what I have to do to spend time with you, then I’ll color, but I don’t get it,” he continued to tease her, while dropping his little hint about spending more time together.
Feeling less nervous after a few cocktails, and the afternoon together, Dani reached over to touch Scott’s abs again softly with her fingertips before saying, “So how much do you work out? It feels like quite a bit.” Her shameless attempt at flirting was working, and Scott’s head was swimming having her hands on him.
Scott leaned forward, closing in the distance between them. “I work out every day. Maybe you would want to come with me sometime, you know in exchange for a coloring date,” he joked.
“You may have noticed by my curves, I don’t really work out. But if it means getting you to experience some zen coloring with me, I could be convinced to give it a go. I’ve really never been athletic.” She raised an eyebrow at him, thinking this exchange of enjoying each other’s hobby was cute, but unlikely to really happen.
“I don’t want you losing those curves, so the gym is out. But I’m currently thinking of as many other things as possible that I can get you to do with me, though,” he said, still leaning in toward her. The closeness between them didn’t feel forced or awkward, and by that point, Dani would have loved for him to lean in another foot and kiss her already, even though she didn’t think that wouldn’t happen.