Page 38 of Jagged

"I thought you were much tougher than that. I mean…you have a gun and all."

"Shooting a robot doesn't do anything to it." I brushed my fingers through my hair again. "Way to freak me out."

She said nothing, but the corner of her mouth twitched with a threatened smile. "You're welcome."

I narrowed my eyes at her, and for a fleeting moment, her teeth nipped her bottom lip before she turned around to face her workstation again.

"To what do I owe this surprise visit?"

"Um…new parameters for your genealogical research."

"You have my attention," she said, now looking up from her work to turn to me. Other than her moment of teasing, she didn't pay me much mind.

"We're working the female angle of the perp, but we need to go back in time a bit. Can you search further back for victims of trauma that might've come in contact, or shared that genetic link?" I asked, not quite knowing how to ask for what I needed to ask.

She paused, her lips pursing for a few strange seconds before she said, "Search victim pools for the link."

"Victim pools, but coded for trauma. If possible."

"Maybe. Possibly."

"You've been given access to CODIS. Interpol is coming up. The FBI arranged it," I added, which seemed to unlock her.

"What kind of trauma?" She flew out of her seat and nearly slid over to the desk where the keyboard that connected the computer system sat.

"Um…all?"

She tossed a glare over her shoulder. "Well, that won't work. Narrow down the parameters."

"Sheesh. Okay. Uh…" I moved over to join her at the desk while her fingers flew across the keyboard.

"Use your instincts, Jagger. Come on."

Her sudden imperiousness shocked me, and I found myself somewhat floored. "Uh…"

Clem gazed up at me with a stern expression, narrowed brows, and lips pressed firmly together. The expectant nature made me worry that I would let her down.

"Female, all ages, sexual trauma, trafficking, witnessing of a violent crime," I blurted out.

She said nothing, but turned to begin typing. I'd never seen anyone type that fast in my life.

"Done," she said, a moment later. "It should turn out some results, but they might be far-reaching and too much."

"Oh. Can you make it living victims?"

The glare. Oh, the glare that nearly killed me. Daggers left her eyes, stabbing me in the chest, as she lifted a single finger and pounded one key on the keyboard. The entire system beeped, and she turned around to begin furiously typing again.

"S-sorry," I tripped over my apology and gulped.

Silence, as before, until the computer began running wild searches that scrolled across the huge flat screen.

"Done…again," she said, finally.

"Thanks."

"Do you know Vhils?"

"Huh?"

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