7|Journal Kidnapping

I have to give it to Paul. He just wouldn’t give up on trying to win me over. His perseverance is commendable but sadly for him, I have no intentions of coming back in the arms of someone who treated my heart like a piece of trash.

It’s still there, my feelings for him. I cannot deny that to myself, but it’s not right. It’s already affecting our work and somehow, I’m glad that I’m paired up with a partner with oozing confidence in his abilities - barely.

“Officer Miller,” I called my partner from his desk on Wednesday morning.

His green eyes narrowed to slit, lips pressed into a thin line while he stood from his desk. He’s mad at me and his feelings are valid. I put him on paperworks for Rivera’s case for valid reasons.

He passed out at seeing a dead body crying out loud. He’s been the center of gossip at the station all week and his morale is so low that he’s barely talking to anyone.

“Can I have a word?”

A curt nod was his response. I turned on my heels, taking the path that leads to my office while returning the greeting of a few officers along the way.

I haven’t been able to clean the office yet. It smells like an old warehouse and wet paper. It also looks that way. Boxes of unsolved and solved cases’ documents are taking up almost half of the small office given to me. The shelf I ordered online was yet to arrive. It’s from my own pocket since the budget for this year hasn’t been handed down from the director’s office yet and I cannot wait to have this place clean.

“Please have a seat,” I offered. Reluctantly, Officer Miller plonked himself on the leather chair on the other side of my desk. “Any update from the lab?”

He let out a sigh, taking out a small notebook from his pocket. “The crime lab found evidence that he was with a woman on the night he died. They ran it in the system but found no match.”

“I heard Rivera is a ladies’ man.” I leaned back in my chair, elbows set on the armrest, fingers twined in my middle. “Have you crossed it with the hookers he’d been with?”

My partner nodded. “It’s no match.”

“How about the clothes? Any prints?”

He shook his head. “No prints other than the victim’s.” He flipped through the pages of the pad, tongue pressed on the insides of his cheeks as if he was pondering on something.

“What?” With wide eyes, he lifted his gaze, meeting mine as he shook his head. “Look…” I sighed, “… we got off to an unpleasant start. Fainting on seeing a dead body is normal, and I put you on paperworks not because I don’t believe in your abilities. You know the people of this town better than I do and I foresee you will find something in the reports that I won’t.”

That was true, among other things. Apparently, apart from solving this case, it is also my job to boost his morale. I hated his infuriating attitude when we first met, but it was better than this gloomy, lifeless man sitting in front of me.

His eyes searched my face, regarding me with worry if I’m playing him, but he’ll find nothing of that. I believe he knows something I don’t. He straightened in his seat, glancing towards the glass wall of my office where the usual busy mornings in the department took place.

I made sure that he had my one hundred percent attention when he spoke. “Rivera had been supplying drugs in town, we all know that, but we just couldn’t find the evidence to prove that. Word on the street says he’s been using locals to deal drugs for him. Young locals, to be precise.”

My brows shoot up at that.

“I don’t know how we’ll prove it, but I think those kids who found the body are connected to this case more than they let on.”

Out of those five, the only one that stood out to me was Corina. “Can you get someone from the lab to cross the results with Corina Parker?”

“I can. Sure.” He replied without missing a beat.

“And I need you to go with Detective Lewis.” At my words, his ears perked up like a hound ready to follow orders, eyes glimmering with excitement. “Follow Miss Parker. Find out everything you can about her. Where she goes, who she meets. She’s hiding something from us and we have to find out what it is.”

Miller's lips stretched into a full-blown smile as he stood up. “On it.”

~~

Before the day ended, Paul knocked on the open door of my office with a scowl on his face.

He stepped inside, not even waiting for an invitation even if he could see how busy I was at sorting out the unsolved case box left by one officer who went AWOL.

“I’m busy,” I said without looking at him.

“Are you avoiding me on purpose, Dawnie?” If this conversation had happened half a year ago, I would’ve dropped everything to ease away the hurt in his tone.

“Yes.”

“You’re being unprofessional.”

I slammed the paper I was reading, losing interest in the endless report of vandalism I was reading. “Am I?”

Paul crossed the small distance between my desk and the door. “You’re pairing that pussy with me. I will not be his babysitter.”

My head tilted to the side. “Your judgment with people is getting sloppy, Detective Lewis. Officer Miller knows the in and out of this town. He grew up here, and he knows everyone.”

“He fainted at seeing a dead body, Dawnie! Are you sure he knows how to do his job?”

“If I remember correctly, you threw up on your first murder case, detective. And look where you are now.”

His olive skin reddened at my words. I promised not to use that against him. It was his first case, and he told me how gruesome it was. I bet he’s regretting telling me all the ugly details of his rookie career.

I leaned back in my chair, fighting back the smile at his lack of retort. “And for your unprofessional comment, I’m one second away from reporting you to Chief Perez. Don’t even think that I don’t know you are sleeping with Ivy.”

His eyes widened at my words. Ivy is Chief Perez’s daughter. She’s nineteen years old and from what I remember, the kid visited her father on our first day here. I don’t know how Paul managed to fool the girl. She’s too young for him.

If Paul could breathe fire, I believe the carpet laid flat on the floor of my office would be burned by now. His ears and nose releasing steam.

The ringing of my office phone broke our staring standoff. I pressed the receive button and Carol, the desk officer’s voice, crooned from the machine.

“Detective Grayson, there’s a Mr. Valentin here for you.”

I am well aware that my confident façade faltered with what Carol said on the line. Paul noticed it too, since his head tilted to the side, studying my surprised expression.

‘He’s here? It’s only Wednesday.’

The unexpected pitter-patter of my heart made my blood simmer with an unfamiliar sensation. Knowing that he’s waiting for me downstairs differs from knowing that I’ll be seeing him on Friday. There was a sudden jolt of excitement that coursed through my veins.

“I’ll be down in a sec,” I replied, standing on my feet.

“Who’s that?” Paul asked as I turned off my computer.

“Someone who doesn’t concern you.” While the monitor was shutting down, I grabbed my jacket, wrapping it around my body.

When I was sure the computer was properly turned off, I grabbed my keys, phone and secured my sidearm, walking past the grim-looking Paul. Before I could reach for the door handle, he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

“Who is he, Dawnie?” Paul, with his towering height, pinned me with an angry look. “Are you fooling around now?”

I turned to face him, having enough of his bullshit. With a flick of my wrist, I free myself from his grip. “If I fool around, that’s none of your fucking concern, Paul. You fucked up what we had, so stop acting as if I owe you an explanation of what I do outside of work. You and I, we’re done for good.”

Paul stepped forward, closing in the distance between us that our nose brushed, danger brewing in his eyes.

“We are done when I say we’re done, Rory.” His voice had that edge in it I only heard from him once. It was at the time when he found the shooter of his late father. It was menacing, the kind that leaves chills from the tip of my hair to my toes. “You are mine and no one can have you but for me. Got it?”

Fear enveloped me. It’s like I’m faced with an entirely different person. Right then, I relieved the fear I felt while I was under the blue-eyed beast in my dream, cementing me on the spot.

Paul was breathing hard, pulling away, looking as if he couldn’t believe he said those words to me. If fear and confusion didn’t cloud my judgment, I’d say regret flashed on his face.

“I… I’m sorry, Dawnie…” he stumbled over his words, reaching out to hold me but I stepped back, shaking my head.

“Don’t even dare.” I’d like to commend myself for keeping a straight face when inside, my heart was still slamming, pounding on the walls of my chest.

It seems that I’m facing the old Paul again, the boy who took me to prom and kissed me while we danced to the tune of David Pomeranz’s The Old Songs.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lowering his gaze as he skirted past me out of my office.

As soon as I was alone, I let out the huge breath I was holding in, hands pressing flat over my still erratically beating heart. These dreams are messing with my actual life and I don’t even know what to do about it.

~~

It took me a good ten minutes before I gathered myself, only for my heart to trash wildly for a whole different reason. Seated on the dark blue sectional by the waiting area was the man who puzzled me more than it should.

He looks like an odd piece in a puzzle, taking too much space in the empty waiting lounge that usually holds people bailing out their friends and family or filing complaints. He lifted his gaze as if he knew I was already breathing the same air he does. Technically, my lungs stopped functioning when our eyes locked. When he smiled, I think I just died.

‘God, Rory,’ I scolded myself, composing myself.

“Rory,” two syllables. That’s all it took for goosebumps to swallow my entire body.

“Eli,” I managed to smile as he stood up, meeting my steps.

Today, he was wearing a gray sweater and jeans beneath his vampire coat. His curly dark hair tousled to perfection and his eyes were lighter than what I remember them to be. The whip of his cedarwood scent was mixed with something spicy, making me shiver as I got closer to him.

“Your trip ended earlier than planned?” I tried to keep the curiosity at bay. The thought of him coming back because of me is making me giddy.

He smirked, the kind that had me swooning like a fangirl. “I wanted to see you sooner.”

His words made my heart leap. “Why?”

He pulled out my journal from the pocket of his coat. His long fingers gripped it as he offered it to me. “I knew you needed this.” My brows shoot up. How did he know I needed it if he didn’t look inside? “You drove all the way to my home in the middle of the night so I figured what’s inside is important.”

“Oh,” I reached for the leather journal, noting not to touch his fingers in the process. “It has my notes on a case I’m working on. Thank you for doing this.” When I pulled to take the book, he didn’t let go, still smiling at me. My brows shoot up, questioning.

“Have dinner with me,” he said smoothly.

It has been a while since any man was this upfront in asking me out. My uniform usually scared them off. I know because I tried dating a few men, Eloisa paired up with me and when I tell them what I do for a living, it’s usually the guillotine of a blissful moment.

I shook my head and was ready to say no, but he was quick to pull the journal out of my hold.

“I won’t take no for an answer.” His words should tick me off, but honestly, it doesn’t. That smile he’s flashing made me weak in the knees.

I crossed my arms, gazing up at him. “Or what?”

“I’ll hold this journal captive until you say yes.”

“You know I’m a cop, right?”

“I’ll let you cuff me, Detective.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, making me forget that I’m at my workplace, giggling at his innuendo.

The sound of people chatting as they descended the stairs reminded me of where we were. I clear my throat, ignoring the curious gaze thrown by my co-workers at us.

“Fine,” I said, realizing that Eli will not deter on his journal kidnapping plot. And I really want to know this man, investigate him for my own peace. A night with him is all I need.

“Great.” He handed the journal, and I grabbed it before he could change his mind. “I’ll pick you up at eight, Rory,” he said with a gleeful smile, lowering his face until he’s leveled with mine. For a moment, I held my breath, thinking that he would kiss me, but he didn’t. He just kept smirking, as if watching me give him satisfaction.

With eyes blinking rapidly, I watched him slip out of the station, still dazed by what happened.