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IRIS didn't like change. It meant a new beginning. It meant starting over, or learning something all over again. Time was always of the essence and she hated to waste it. Change was such a nuisance. She stuck to a rigid schedule, unwilling to break, which allowed her some sense of structure in her life.
The rest of the world liked change. We got a new president every four years. With new seasons came new weather, and don't forget about daylight savings time. Obstacles constantly littered everyone's daily lives. Change was real and unyielding, and most humans could adapt to it.
Not Iris Kingsley, though. Definitely not her. She tried to not let anything – or anyone – lead her off her own schedule. She woke up every weekday to a hot cup of coffee. (She grounded the beans herself.) It was custom to drink it out on the small deck of her apartment, no matter how cold it was or how dirty she let the chairs get. She liked to sit in one of her old beach chairs and sip casually from the mug, a cigarette in her other hand. Nicotine gave her breakfast a bit more flavor.
She had to dress herself after. As much as Iris would like to sit on that dirty ass porch for hours upon end, she liked to work. She liked to help people. It was one of the many reasons why she wanted to become a detective. She always liked being in the know, and never permitted herself to be kept in the dark. That just wasn't in her nature.
After adorning her usual gray pantsuit and a white dress shirt, Iris would quickly tug a brush through her matted waves, allowing the crazy Detroit wind to take care of the rest, before running out the door. On a good day, she wouldn't run into any of her neighbors. They just slowed her down. If she managed to get to the office on time – which she usually did, depending on the train schedule – the rest of the day would be smooth sailing: countless hours spent on paperwork and research, listening to her cube mate, Charlie, gush about the slim pickings they had for eye candy at the station, and maybe – if she found the time – a moment to chill out and eat lunch. Just one little mishap in that schedule could shift her entire day off. Iris was an avid planner, but she never knew what to do if something threw her off. Sometimes, an obstacle made her act like a deer in the headlights, and she'd have to deal with change all over again.
You can't imagine her surprise when she found out her old boss, Marcus Newton, gave his notice only a day in advance, and she'd be receiving a new lead detective in just a few days.
It wasn't too much of a shock, if she were being honest. Iris heard a few rumors that Marcus was cheating on his wife with his twenty-one-year-old intern. Charlie also said that his hand once brushed against her behind, and she was pretty sure that her ass "wasn't the first one he ever fondled." The point was – there were a million reasons why Marcus had left his high position so abruptly, but Iris would never know the real reason why. He was probably halfway across the country by now, and she hardly ever said a word to him. He was her boss, but she made it pretty clear on day one that she did her own thing and she didn't need his help with anything. Her tone had been nasty and passive-aggressive. He was practically scared shitless of her after that day, never questioning anything she did. Why do you think she was the only one allowed to smoke in their smoke-free building?
