Poison - Chapter 1

I

I had just been allowed to go back to work for the first time in three months and I was not at the least overjoyed. When I had first heard the news relief flooded over me like a tsunami hitting a small island in the Pacific, but as time went on, a fear swelled inside of me. Going back to work meant much more than just doing the actual work. It meant seeing people who reminded me too much of the ones I lost, talking all about my progress and mental instability, and worst of all, revisiting each and every hellish moment in the history of my presence. Words could barely explain the feeling.
I arrived like I had every day before. Early, and with coffee. No one was there, of course, well, except for those few people I had never connected with and were not exactly normal, and the available air made me feel together again. One and one with everything. My life, my job, my hobbies, Me. It was almost a relief - a small one, but still...
"Alexander Sempers. Damn, how long has it been?" I heard as I walked to my desk. Setting my coffee down I couldn't help but smile at Zak, the only computer genius I had befriended during college, and the only one in the precinct.
"Only a few months, thank God." I logged into my computer, for a moment forgetting my password before revisiting the section of my brain that was dedicated to everything that had to do with codes and everything that had the word pass in front of it.
"Well, just for the record, it felt like a few years." I rolled my eyes at Zak's obvious sarcasm as I began to check my email, which held an overwhelming amount of messages in my inbox. "No seriously, ask anyone here." I rose a brow and looked around at all the empty desks in the room and sleeping computers. "Okay," Zak spoke as he followed my eyes around the empty room, "Maybe in an hour or so..."
"I appreciate your attempts on welcoming me back, but please stop. It gets, shall we say obnoxious as you go on. Ask anyone. In an hour." It was a joke and Zak got it, but he still did appreciate my own sarcasm. Whatever backfire he had in store for me was going to have to be received later either way after I heard Captain Kendrick Shelton call my name from across the room and nod to a meeting room.
"Looks like you've got some time to revise that come back of yours." I laughed as Zak rolled his eyes and looked down at my phone as I stood up. I began to browse my email as I walked toward the meeting room. For two thousand emails, it's hard to imagine that not one of them can be categorized in the same folder as another. I find it completely asinine.
For an abandoned-looking room, I felt like an idiot. Especially as I ran into someone on my way to see the Captain. And to make matters worse. They weren't the nicest person on the bunch. So to speak.
"Why don't you watch where the hell you're going and stop browsing your God damn email, will you?" It was a quick glance, but in mere seconds I was able to infer three things about the person I accidentally walked into. It was a girl - or a young woman to be exact, she was blonde, and she wore a black, designer pantsuit. How would I know what a woman's designer suit looks like? Simple, and two-worded: Mother's Day.
Then again, if we're talking specifics you could say I inferred at least four things. The last one was interesting and questionable as to who the hell I actually did run into. The whole "God damn email" thing, well, let's just say that she never got the chance to see my phone screen and I don't wear glasses.
I slid my phone into my suit jacket pocket and smoothed the fabric out, re-buttoning the jacket and straightening my tie. Unfortunately for me, I had been placed in the murder/investigation part of the New York Police Department, which meant I had to look like I was working in a law firm or something of the sort. But to be completely honest, I didn't mind. I'd take a suit and tie over a bullet-proof vest and AK-47 (or something like it) any day.
I walked in to a surprise that I wouldn't have minded not getting. I couldn't help but stare awkwardly at the blonde hair and designer suit in shock as it spoke to the Captain. That's when I was noticed. And the meeting could only storm on my already terrible Monday morning.
"Ah, there you are Alexander!" The Captain spoke, his voice booming as he stepped around the young blonde. His hand was heavy as he placed it on my shoulder, but soon let go as the young woman turned around. "Ms. Winston, meet Alexander Sempers, the head of our investigation sector here in New York City. Alexander, meet Roxanne Winston, an agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
She placed out her hand as a greeting, which by the look of her slight hesitation, she surely didn't want to do. I took it and made eye contact for what felt like minutes but was merely two seconds before I let go. By the relaxation of her features, I could tell that she was much happier not touching.
Roxanne Winston was not what I had imagined. As hard as it is to imagine I could gain such outcome in that small of a time, it happened. And my results were blowing up in my mind. Roxanne was not average. Not by a long shot. She looked not even twenty-one in some angels, yet barely twenty-two in others. She had midnight blue eyes, light blonde hair, freckles under her eyes and across her nose. She looked nothing like an FBI agent, or even eligible to carry a gun at times, yet she checked out for both.
Suddenly I had an urge to ask her if she had ever tried modeling and the gig just didn't work out. I mean, it made sense. She was thin and obviously tall, even taller with the heels. If I could have guessed I would've said five-foot-nine at the least. In heels she was almost as tall as me. Blonde hair, blue eyes. It was completely plausible.
The Captain had yet to even explain what she was doing her before I came up with my question, which was most likely going to piss her off way more than she obviously was that morning.
"Ms. Winston here is going to assist us for the next two months, and since you've been gone for a while I feel it right to partner you up with her until she leaves. Because you just got back, we're going to take it easy on you and give you some old unfinished cases for you to figure out. They are all in those boxes on the table. Good luck!" And with that and a tap on my shoulder, the Captain was gone. I wasn't too sure if it was Roxanne's questionable stares or my avoidance of her glances, or even something completely different, but it was like he couldn't wait to get out of there. And that was make two of us. Or maybe even three. For I was stuck in a room with an FBI agent named Roxanne, who already told me, not in words, but in actions, that she hated me. What could get worse? Oh, I had a list of things.
"So..." I started off, attempting to make up a question quickly, a question that wasn't as deep as the whole modeling thing I had going on in my brain.
"Let's start with the earlier dates. Maybe they'll give us some insight on the later ones." She spoke quickly, as if avoiding everything that had to do with... I don't know. Me.
"Okay... Should we work on them together or..."
"You take that box, I'll take this one." She didn't even look at me as she slid the box across the table toward me. So far she was answering my questions, but I could only wonder how she would respond to some more... personal questions. After all, I was partnering with her. What better to do that get to know my partner? A lot of things, I later found out.
"Uh... Can I ask you a question?" I finally said after a few minutes of an awkward silence only I seemed to be feeling. She was already through one manila folder and onto her second as I pulled out my first case. 1958. That was a long time for a murder case to sit and Roxanne had the even older boxes.
"You can shoot, but it doesn't mean you'll score." I wasn't sure if that was a yes or no, but her lack of straight communication basically gave me a choice. And I chose it.
"I'll take that as a yes. What are your reasons for hating me as much as you obviously do?" She didn't look up from the papers as she put them back in bent, battered manila folder. She was onto case three already and it hadn't been more than five minutes.
"What are my reason's for hating you? Is that the best question you can come up with? Not much of an interrogator, are you?" I stared at her blankly as she went through yet another folder, flipping through pages, scanning the sketches and pictures, putting the pieces together and writing the name of the murderer on the pages.
"I'm a great interrogator, and that question is something I'm interesting in finding the answer to." It wasn't much of an answer to her own question, but it was partly the truth. She sighed and pulled out another folder from the box as if she were bored.
"You're a detective, Mr. Sempers, isn't that correct?" She looked up at me for the first time in minutes. Her face was emotionless as she waited for me to answer. It was obvious that she knew the truth, but somehow she wanted me to say it.
"Yes..." I said, staring into her dark blue eyes. Her eyes seemed to light up as she cracked a smile, but it wasn't any normal happy smile, it was a challenging grin, one that made me almost fear her next words.
"Deduce it." Her voice was low and soft and she finally looked away from me and went back to work. Her answer made me sigh and loose my patience.
"You're kidding right? You're not going to make me guess until I finally get the right answer?"
"I asked you if you were a detective, Mr. Sempers. You said 'yes.' I said 'deduce it.' You've been gone for three months. And in those three months I highly doubt you did any solving of any sort. If you really are a detective and want to succeed in not only your own life, but also in the reconstruction of this pit of fire you and your Captain call a precinct, I'd recommend solving a few things on your own. Who knows. You may find some... hidden answers in the people most suspicious."
Her insight made no sense to me, well that last part didn't, but her little speech wasn't that clear either. Whatever she meant, whatever she thought I could do, it didn't matter. All I knew is that she was going to teach me. And I wasn't too sure I was ready for that level of intensity that was burning through her own bones.

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