Moments; singular, siphoned, like grains of sand which fall restlessly, and build without limits...growing with increasing momentum, each step, beat, a steady staccato , marking down the minutes until the cold inevitability of the ...end ...death.
M...
"Wow, okay. So does that mean we have another player?" Garrett asks. I shake my head. "I didn't get the sense that the other signature had anything to do with our murders. It was just an argument over the dead body in the alley. Suddenly it hits me and I grab the piece of paper and scan it again. "Garrett, Jesus, I can't believe I missed that. You remember that case we caught with the dead body in the alley off of Ave B...the one that got picked up..." "...You mean stolen," Garrett mutters. I nod, "Yeah, yeah, taken by Narcotics. The one with the body in the alley...Jesus," I say again, "It was that alley, that same alley, that is not a coincidence." "You're not making sense, Ann, I mean, Annora." "The alley I Treaded was that alley, the one with the case we caught." "You're kidding." I give him a look, and he holds up his hands as if to say, sorry, sorry. "Dealer and junkie...but at first everyone thought it was gang related. Shit, shit, shit!" I bang my fist on my desk. "We're gonna have to go talk to Wilson." Garrett shakes his head. "Annora, no. I already went to him about the list. He's not going to listen to me or do anything else—" "—For you, yeah I know. But I'll do the talking. Just let me do the talking, okay?" Garrett sighs. "I don't like it, Annora. Wilson is sorta a slimy one, you know..." I laugh. "Ohhhh Garrett, how long have we known one another...you know better than to doubt my abilities in dealing with slimy ones." Garrett laughs too. "I guess you're right." He sighs, "I just have never liked how he's looked at you, Annora." "Looks are nothing," I grin, "Look all you want," and my grin goes feral, "Touch, and you DIE!" "Yup," Garrett say with a grin of his own, "touch and you die...unless you get our girl really really drunk and—" I hold up my hand and give him a look. "Seriously, Garrett? You gonna bring that up here, now?" Garrett has the good grace to look abashed and embarrassed. He sighs. And runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "I'm sorry, Ann, I mean, Annora, I'm sorry. That was totally uncalled for." "Yeah, it was," I say with a frown. "Sorry, sorry, seriously, I'm really sorry." Garrett sighs. "I don't know why I said that shit. God, that was really shitty, Ann." I sigh myself. "It's okay," And it was. Garrett seemed a lot better, at least a million times better than he'd been. I mean, he wasn't pointing guns at anyone, so that was good. "Just don't do it again, okay?" "Okay, Ann, okay. So, you want to visit wicked Wilson now?" "Wicked Wilson?" Garrett blushes, "That's kinda the nickname I gave the dick." I laugh. And Garret frowns. "What is so funny?" "You said, dick." Garrett flushes Scarlett and nods. "I guess I did. But seriously, Ann, that's how I think of him." I laugh. "He is kinda a dick isn't he?" "Totally," Garrett agrees. "But a cute one, right?" I say, wondering at the reaction I'll get from him. Oh boy, I'm just mean, aren't I? "WHAT?" Garrett yells, and then lowers his voice. "You think Wilson is cute, seriously?" "Well, yeah I mean, he has that entire 'bad boy' vibe going for him." I say, watching Garrett's face turn redder and redder. "Annora, he's just bad, bad news." Garrett gestures behind me, "And you've kinda filled your stable, right?" Now it's my turn to blush furiously. "Touché, Garrett, touché." Garrett grins. "So now that we've exchanged barbed wit, wanna go visit the dick?" I laugh, "Okay, lets."
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