Page 3 of Jagged

"Wow, I should be insulted." I gripped my chest in mock horror.

"As if you give a shit." He gestured in my direction. "Talk."

"It's about a case you worked back in the day." I tapped my credit card against the reader on the vending machine after giving in to my desires and swiped out the watermelon-flavored energy bomb when it dropped from the dispenser. "The Bleeder case."

"Ah." He smirked and lifted his chin in my direction. "The bodies we found bled out at construction sites. What's the count at?"

"Six. When you had it there were four." I cracked the top of the can and took a swig.

"Vaguely remember. Two in the same year, right?"

"Yeah. Two in 2005, then 2008, and 2009. Four-year gap," I reminded him. "He was probably in jail or something."

"Possibly. Usually that's what interrupts the signature. When were the other two?" he asked, his interest appearing perked.

"Both were in 2019. Another two-in-the-same-year scenario."

"Nothing since then?"

"Not that anyone found. They briefly reopened the case after that, but turned it cold again five years later. No new leads. What do you remember of the signature?"

"To be honest, not much. My partner was the queen of unraveling signatures back then. I lived more for the interviews," he said, then lifted his coffee again for a sip.

"James? Too bad she retired." I shrugged and pondered the idea of interviewing her like the others.

A smirk tugged the corner of his mouth as if he fought its attempt to broaden across his face. His gaze flickered in my direction over the top of his cup after another sip. "From the force, at least."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's a P.I."

My stomach lurched at the disclosure. "Think she'd talk to me?"

"I think she'll give you a run for your money, but yup. Pretty sure she will."

"Awesome. Is she independent?"

"Sorta." He ditched his cup then plucked a doughnut from the box on the counter. "Runs the agency with her wife. Look her up."

"I will. What's the name of it?"

"Miller and Miller." He tore a bite from the sugary confection before pulling open the door.

My eyes widened as I tried to keep my composure. "I think she might've already beat me to it."

"I'm not surprised. Later, Jag." He saluted me before leaving me alone to my thoughts.

I didn't bother returning to the office to meet up with Zay. Instead, I sent him a text with the plans for my next move. Sometimes I preferred working alone. Zay was good enough company, but I tended to think better when given time and space.

My phone rang in my pocket as my Vans slapped the dampening pavement when the rain began to pick up. I tugged it from my pocket to see Tatiana's rainbow-painted mug flashing across my screen. I swiped to answer and held it to my ear.

"What's up?"

"Hey. Can you pick Reagan up from dance class? I just got a call back about the gallery exhibit and I legit have to show up in fifteen minutes." Her voice sounded rushed and coupled with the background sounds of rustling, I believed her.

"Yeah. Sure." I glanced down the street to my right and jaywalked my way across it. "Teacher know?"

"You're a cop."

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