ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ

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𝗔uden took a sip of her coffee as she gazed at the one-way mirror next to her

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𝗔uden took a sip of her coffee as she gazed at the one-way mirror next to her. She was sitting on the interrogation table, swinging one leg off the side, entertaining an investigation into the shit show that was the Torres family. After all these months of tripping over their shoes trying to link everything together, she thought they would have capped it all off by now.

But no – instead, they were handed a pile of extra evidence and told to solve it.

That and had their only damn lead chased away by a mentally unstable woman.

"What are we supposed to do with this?" Asher asked, limply picking up one of the journals.

"Going through them to find more information about this Clarke figure," Jonah replied.

The two boys were sitting in the chairs normally in front of her; lately, they haven't been requiring them to wear their uniforms as often, so the three of them were dressed in plain clothes. She was kind of thankful for it – today was supposed to be a relaxing day, and now that Rayne fucked things up and they needed to dive deeper, the last thing she needed to see was Asher's non – existent ass making his police pants sag.

Asher let out a loud groan, indicating his displeasure, and scooped up the journal labeled nineteen ninety – four. Jonah picked apart the things they ran through toxicology and forensics.

She honestly had no idea why they were going through this again – Asher had a point. Everything they were going to figure out about this case was in the wind with their lead suspect. After already tying him to both the murders at the boy's home and Elle Torres's, they had a solid case.

"Y'know, if you had just warned Rayne better, we wouldn't be here," she toed the table with the edge of her black boot.

"And maybe," Jonah folded his hands and sarcastically smiled at her, "If you hadn't played hooky and had been here – maybe she would have listened."

"Hey, it's not my fault that they think they can walk all over you because you're related to them."

"They don't do that," he scowled, looking back at his files.

"Sure," she raised her eyebrows.

Jonah ignored her; she let her eyes float to Asher's – he was covering his mouth with a flat palm, trying to stifle a laugh from the truth so obvious it was slapping everyone but him in the face.

A small smile crossed her face as she looked at him. She couldn't lie – at the beginning of this case, being forced to work with him, she hated his guts. She hated the way he treated women and she hated that he walked around like his dick didn't stink.

Yet, slowly, over time, he's been warming up to not only her, but the whole station. It was refreshing – to come into work and not want to either kill herself or throttle her partner.

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄Место, где живут истории. Откройте их для себя