Page 56 of Solanum

Just the way she liked it.

***

I spent a second night at Nora's, waking with her on Monday morning at the ungodly hour required to ready ourselves for work. Our one time lasted until the moment she pulled her blazer over her shoulders.

The week raced forward with, yet another series of crimes brought to our attention courtesy of the Seattle Police Department's Bias Crimes Unit. Three consecutive bomb threats directed toward immigration reform rallies, one coming to fruition with some casualties. A fourth popped up with threats targeting The March for Our Lives involving gun control, focused on Washington D.C., with some smaller marches in big cities. Seattle, as always, shared the sentiment.

The same domestic terrorist group appeared connected to each. An armed militia, composed of mainly middle-aged white men, posted endless tirades on the Dark Web and walked the streets ready for doomsday. They caused chaos, spouted hate, and nearly two dozen of them were arrested for firing weapons off in the middle of the street. They rode into the cities from their middle-American bases in caravans strapped with confederate flags. Orchestrated chaos rained down on us, but with the proper supports from the government and military, control and order returned to the streets, and the terrorists diffused. For now.

The following Tuesday, our team gathered in our typical conference room. Doughnuts and coffee filled the table in the back as usual, and I helped myself to a chocolate glazed while waiting for everyone to settle. Gordo brought two laptops into the meeting and Taylor joined him while looking on. Wilkinson and Jackson, the latter being a newly assigned and well-revered team lead, stood by the presentation screen at the front of the room. Jackson brought with him newest recruit, Julia Chin, rounding off our growing numbers. Gordo coordinated the display while Wilkinson directed him with Jackson looking on.

Nora arrived with Jenson, the two of them talking a mile a minute about something that seemed to stoke their fire, while Roderick brought up the rear. With Harris last, the volume of conversation lifted with the increase of agents. Folks swarmed the snack area, filling up their coffee cups and plucking doughnuts on to paper plates.

I didn't care about any of them, because Nora held my attention more than she should've. In her black slacks, pumps, and collared silk blouse, she stood out from the wash of men in shirts and ties. She showed something on her tablet to Jenson, and he tapped it a few times. Her eyes lifted then, scanning the room until they landed on me. She smiled, the corners of her eyes turned up with it, brightening her lightly make-upped face. With on point eyeliner and just a hint of smokey colors, her smoldering presence swirled my stomach filled with sugar and caffeine. When I returned her smile with a wink and one of my own, her cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink.

I turned my attention back to the front of the room, only to see Wilkinson staring at me. His expression, as blank as always, told me nothing, until he bellowed, "Donovan, up here."

I brushed the crumbs from my fingers then sauntered up to the front of the room to join him and Jackson. They began briefing me about Jackson's transferred case involving a series of rapes taking place in a residential neighborhood between Tacoma and Lakewood. Three women, all in their mid-twenties and living alone, reported crimes with similar patterns.

"How long has this been going on?" I asked, glancing between the men.

"Three women reported in one week's time, but my team expanded the search radius and we've got some positive hits that they're looking into. With my transfer to this unit, Wilkinson's agreed to take the case with me," explained Jackson.

"Sign me up." I shrugged, tucking my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. "Let's get the bastard."

Jackson's expression brightened. He dropped both of his hands on his head, skewing a few of his thick dreadlocks before tucking them back in the band that tamed them. "Seriously, Donovan? You're in?"

"Yeah, man. Why wouldn't I be?" I looked between him and Wilkinson.

"Wilkinson said you're usually hesitant to pull something away from the locals when the victim count is unclear," he explained.

"That is true." I pointed at Wilkinson and he chuckled. "But I'm briefed on your instincts, Jackson, and if you feel there is more to this, we're taking it."

"Awesome." He rubbed his hands together. "Happy to be a part of this team."

"All right, folks. Get it together." Wilkinson shouted, calling the chaos to order.

Our team gathered around the long table while Jackson and I took our positions at the front closest to Wilkinson.

"We're taking a case from Unit Three as well as poaching Jackson and Chin." Wilkinson pointed to him. "With that said, Jackson and Donovan will share a split focus for this one." His gaze scanned the room. "Roderick, Chin, and Taylor, you're with Donovan on this. Brody, Jenson, and Harris, I want you with Jackson. Donovan's team will focus on the field work, Jackson's on the data. Gordon, you'll liaison with both teams as always."

"Yes, Sir," answered Gordo with a salute.

Nora's gaze shot to mine, and my brow furrowed at the sudden division of roles.

"Take your teams and brief them, Leads. Donovan's team, wheels up to Tacoma in two." Wilkinson closed his planner with a snap.

"Sir," I called to him when the room broke into chatter.

"What is it, Donovan?" he asked, his brow furrowed when I approached him.

"Sending me out without Brody or Jenson is unusual. No psych? Why?"

"Jenson needs to follow Brody's lead. He's not up to taking something alone yet," he said, his steady gaze landing on mine.

"Right. I know. But why aren't you sending Brody? Who's going to interview the vics?"

"Chin, although new, is an experienced interviewer. I'm confident that the two of you can handle it," he said, simply.

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