On The Run

Chapter Eighteen - "And You Are?"

Jake

 

I needed another break. That’s how I knew I was right to let this case be my last; I was letting my emotions get in the way. That was the one thing I envied the most about Sarah. She always seemed to be cool, calm and collected. At the same time though, it was what I hated the most.

After the Jonathan Cole case, we moved on. I mean we had to. Mary had done her homework on all the kids and we were basically confirming.

“So, the next one’s in New York. Kyle Peters; his birth parents are Lucy and Sanderson Pritchett.”

Sarah looked up from her iPad, “Okay.” I don’t know what it was, but she was starting to seem different. Maybe it was just in my eyes though, because I saw her at a weak point. In all the years I’d known her, I’d never once seen her cry. It almost made her more attractive; the fact that she wasn’t totally unfeeling.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I walked over. She was playing Scrabble.

I raised my brows, “You’re playing Scrabble?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, in full concentration, not looking up, “What can I form with N-C-I-E-G-R-A?”

It was totally unlike her to be non-obsessive with a case, so I was slightly taken aback.

“Um . . . cairn?” I answered, “Sarah, why are you playing scrabble?”

She didn’t look up, “I needed to take a breath, and then a couple more.”

I snorted, “You needed a breath? From a case? Are you okay?”

She laughed, “I’m fine. I feel better than I have in a while, so I’m trying to enjoy it. Now do you want to play, or are you going to leave me to?”

I stared at her for a second; she had seemed more laid-back. It was like once she let out those waterworks a few days back, a burden was lifted; it all seemed cathartic. Maybe I should have cried too.

“I’ll play,” I replied, sitting across from her.

“Good,” she said with a nod.

“And then we’ll get back to Lucy and Sanderson Pritchett later?”

She frowned, “Sanderson Pritchett? Where do I know that name?”

“That got your attention, huh? He’s this mogul millionaire from California who invented some sort of software,” I answered.

Her brow was crinkled in thought, “Are there pictures?”

“No, there aren’t, but you’ve probably seen him on television. Why?”

“Because I know I know that name.”

“Well, while you’re thinking,” I began, picking up the iPad, “I’ll be forming . . . . . Quote. Triple word score.” I said.

“Hey! It was my turn,” she said, grabbing it and forgetting all about the Pritchetts.

And so, back and forth we went with the words; I kept losing, and we kept going again and again. The sun set and the moon came up, and for the first time in what had to be ever, Sarah and I had a period of no crime discussion, no sad tales, just words – plain and simple.

I kept waiting for her to pipe up and end the game, but I could see how it would be hard. I mean, she was winning after all.