Beyond A Reasonable Doubt (2012 Watty Winner)

Bullets and....Boobies?

"This isn't weird, me asking you to come here... is it?" Kyla asks as we both take a seat with our coffee's in hand.

"No." I shake my head and smile. "It's fine." I assure her.

"Kay good, cause I don't want to seem like a creeper or anything." She says and makes a face that I can't help but laugh at.

"So..." I start, sipping my delicious coffee. "Was there a particular reason you wanted to meet here or..." I trail off.

"Not really, no." She shakes her head and smiles.

"So, just for coffee then?" I ask to clarify. I don't know if you're getting that vibe but I'm kinda feeling like this is a date.

"Yup." She nods and sips her coffee. Looking every which way but at me.

"Kyla, you know that I'm-"

"Yes!" She cuts me off abruptly. I stare at her and wait for her to continue but she just looks off into the distance. She's a peculiar one I tell you.

"Kyla." I say and she whips her head around.

"Hmm?" She says, raising her brows.

"What's this about?" I ask with a smile, placing my coffee on the table.

"I'm not like gay or anything." She says and turns away again.

Ooooookay?

Did you hear me ask her if she was gay?

Cause maybe I missed that part.

"Kyla." I say her name again and she bites the inside of her jaw like she's trying to hold back a smile.

"You've been to visit Spencer every day right?" She asks and I nod.

"Yeah, we've had a lot of things to discuss." What is she getting at here?

"Hmph." She says and turns away again. This chick couldn't be more cryptic right now if she tried.

"Kyla!" I say again, this time in a louder voice.

"Fine." She drawls out and places her coffee on the table. "Spencer talks about you a lot, like when I visit." She says and I gesture for her to continue. "That's it." She shakes her head and shrugs, picking up her coffee and drinking it.

"That's it?" I question.

"Yup." She nods. This has to be one of the most pointless conversations I have ever had in my life. I laugh at the smaller brunette sitting across from me as I receive a phone call.

"Hello." I answer.

"Ash, meet me at the crime lab now." Is all Jackson says and hangs up.

"I've got to go." I tell Kyla, standing up from my chair. She nods and smiles in understanding as I hastily make my way to my car.

–

"What is it?" I ask Jackson, who's standing by the door waiting for me. He quickly turns and walks back into the building and I just follow him. Once we reach the door of the crime lab we go inside and a short fair complexion man with thick rimmed glasses and a balding head approaches us.

"Tell her what you just told me, George." Jackson says to the man who only nods.

"Well..." He starts as she scurries—with a limp, back to his microscope he'd just vacated. Jackson and I follow on his heels. "As you may..." he pauses and looks at me. "Or may not know." What is that supposed to mean? "Most guns have their own unique identifying features and even though the gun was not left at the crime scene, many degrees of information can be determined from the bullet, the nature of the wound and any residue left around it. Now, we know that this bullet," He says picking the bullet up with tweezers from off his microscope tray. "went through the victims hand, through a wall and a fence, then lodged itself into a tree. See the bullet isn't in the most pristine condition. But," He says as smiles, placing the bullet back down. "It was still in good enough condition to be identifiable."