Poison - Chapter 3

III

"So, we didn't find any finger prints other than yours on the envelope and paper, but we did find where the paper came from. Printers Co. is the only store in the U.S. that sells this type of paper. But aside from that, we've got nothing." Zak told me as soon as I had arrived at work. I had called him last night to see if he was coming in for work since his sister was due to deliver anytime that week. He wasn't. Not until I told him the situation that is. And just to make me seem like less of a dick, I kept it to myself until he convinced me to tell him.
"So no leads then? No one suspicious?" Zak shook his head and looked around at the busy room. Tuesdays were one of the busiest days of the week, though no one really knew why. So at five o'clock in the morning, most, if not all, of the officers were there. I sighed.
"Look, maybe it's just some random person trying to get into your head. Hell, maybe its an ex of yours. Don't stress. It's only a name."
"An important name." I said firmly, leaning back in my chair and looking away. I had been so stressed out by a single paper that I totally didn't notice Roxanne sitting at the desk across from me, typing away and then finally looking up at us to most likely say some witty comment about our supposed stupidity.
"You're joking, right?" She asked. "Please say you're joking. No leads?" Zak's attention span went from five seconds to five hours as he finally noticed the blonde. He had been so distracted by his own work that he hadn't even noticed one of the only women in the office, one who was new and not exactly federal-looking.
"Who are you?" He asked flirtatiously and for the first time in a long time I felt sick to my stomach. Zak was basically my wing man. One of the only friends I had who wasn't associated with my dad. And now he was hitting on the woman who was sent in to be my partner. Well, at the least I could thank God they weren't exactly hitting it off.
"Printers Co. is located in only three states. One store per state. Your limited to three locations, all locations in small, isolated towns. You should at least have that from knowing what store the paper is from." She said, ignoring Zak's question completely as she continued. "The font is old, associated with the 1930's. 1936 to be exact."
"How the hell do you know that?" I asked, doubting that she was right for even a second. Like she had done the night before, and earlier this morning, she continued to type as she spoke, multitasking once again and refusing to make eye contact. To either of us.
"If you look closely at the letter you received, you'd find that some of the letters have been covered and retyped. Most of those letters that were covered were no where near the letter on top of it. On the keyboards we know, that is. The person who typed the letter was not familiar with it's keyboard, so while typing the name he or she made the mistake of going back to the current keyboard, which is much different. By noticing each letter or symbol that was covered and typed over we can deduce that whoever sent Mr. Sempers that letter was using an August Dvorak typewriter. Which as you should already know, includes the Dvorak Simplified Keyboard. From there all you have to do is test the ink, find out where it's from, deduce the area from which the materials were found, see if any of those types of typewriters have been stolen from museums in local areas and well, the end." She looked up and shrugged. "It's not as complicated as it seems."
Zak was in total shock. And to be honest, I was too.
"Holy..." Zak muttered, staring at Roxanne in awe. I could tell that he had this new level of respect for her, which was as frightening as Roxanne herself. "Where did you go to school?"
"That is a personal question, Mr. Hall. Personal questions are inappropriate in a work place environment. Stay on track. And since you have convinced yourself that you have nothing better to do and your sister is not due until Friday - though there is a sixty-nine percent chance she'll go over her due date - I recommend getting to work on Mr. Sempers' case. And just to speed you up, Arizona, Michigan, and Wisconsin are the only states with those specific stores. Or technically store."
Zak was as astonished as I was, though he was showing it more than I. He stumbled off like a dog following it's owners commands and I raised my brow as I stared at the blonde as she, once again, continued to type.
"What the hell was that?" I asked her in a low, slightly threatening whisper. She continued to type, her posture making her look more like a secretary than an FBI agent.
"'That' is a very vague term, Mr. Sempers." She spoke.
"You know damn well what the hell I'm talking about."
"Again-"
"Yeah, yeah," I cut her off, pissed off that she wasn't answering my question like a normal person. "It's a vague term. I got it. Just answer my God damn question."
"You asked me one question and it was a vague one. If your going to ask me something, don't make the terms as vague as you are currently making them." I rolled my eyes and clenched my fists in anger.
"Is 'vague' your favorite word today or something, because you seem to be in love with it?"
"'Favorite' is a perplex and unjustifiable word. But just for the record, today's word is 'Verisimilitude,' not 'vague.'"
"What the hell does that mean?" I asked. "And I know it's a vague word. I got it." She sighed.
"'Verisimilitude' is the appearance of being true or real."
"What? Whatever. Just tell me why the hell you had to interrupt my conversation with Zak."
"Mr. Hall obviously had nothing to say after that, and you both looked... lost, so I decided to give you some of my own inquiries and let you figure the rest out."
"You gave us most of the answers." I said dead pan. She smiled that same challenging smile she had the day before.
"Not really." I rose my brow at her comment. "You'll figure it out soon enough. Or will you?"
I swallowed and decided to leave the scene. Roxanne was smart, everyone knew that, but she also had this awkwardly creepy side too. Like a horror story gone wrong. However that happens, I don't know. But whatever it was, all I knew is that I wanted to find this guy, or girl, who sent me the letter. And if Roxanne had some of the answers I needed, I'd take them. Most of them, that is. For no one really knew who the hell she was anyway. She could've been the sender all along, sending us on the wrong path and leading us to a dead end or even a trap. I'd just have to figure it out.

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