Chapter 12

(Chapter song ‘Wannabe' by Spice Girls, ‘Everybody Hurts' by REM)

PAISLEY I walk into the station, well dance into the station with Spice Girls blaring in my ears.

I’m singing and rocking it out as I walk to the city clerks desk to drop off my ticket book and get another one.

“Hey, Paisley.” The clerk says as I dance up to the counter.

“How’s it going, Dave?” I smile as I bounce.

I hand him my book and looks it over. “Good shift?”

I shrug. “Could be better.” My feet shuffle in the spot. “I could really use some action.” I grin.

“You hand out parking tickets, Paisley. There’s no action in that.” He chuckles.

“There could be.” I lean on the counter. “I almost had to exchange fisticuffs with a loiterer.” I tilt my head to him.

“No.” His face looks shocked, but I know he’s making fun of me.

I narrow my eyes at him as he smiles. “Listen my job is dangerous, ok. Do you know how many threats I get a day for writing those tickets?”

“How many?” He folds his arms on his desk.

I lean on the counter with my elbow on the top. “At least five. I’m telling you. I should be getting danger pay.”

He shakes his head.

I slap the counter. “See ya!”

“Bye, Paisley.” He grins and moves to his computer.

I strut dance into the station where my people are. The real Enforcers.

A bad guy is chained to a chair and fighting it with a snarl on his face.

I point my forefingers at him. “Should have listened to your mother.” I click my teeth and wink. He growls in response.

I shuffle up the isle to my main man. “Hey, Baby. What’s shaking?”

Casey leans back in his chair. “Hey, P. Good day?”

I plant my but on his desk. “It’s OK. You?”

He sighs and leans forward. “Not really. Found a body last night.”

My eyes widen and I pull out my ear buds.

I look across the aisle and rush to a chair and pull over.

Just as sit, I hear a thud on the floor behind me.

I turn around to where I got the chair from and another Enforcer is on his but on the floor. I scowl. “Drunk again, Henderson?”

He groans, shoots me a death glare and flops his head back on the floor.

I shake my head and turn back to Casey. “A body? Like an actual dead as doornails body? A real live stiff?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s a real weird one too. Not typical.”

“What do you mean?” I ask as I lean on his desk and my chin on my hand. I reach over to his file to look. He slaps my hand. “Ow.”

“Don’t.” He points to me. “It’s weird because it was a Lycan attack, but the victim died.”

I smile. “What. Lycans don’t kill?” From what I know, lycans are murderers.

“Not when power feeding.” Casey runs his hands through his textured blonde hair. “Lycans try not to kill humans because it brings unnecessary attention to themselves and they don’t want to dwindle the power supply. Vampires don’t think about that stuff. They binge feed.”

I stare at him and his knowledge. “Interesting.” I slowly nod. “What else?” I ask with enthusiasm.

“Well, lack of evidence. DNA is crap and fingerprints are coming up with nothing. I’m thinking they messed those up too.” He leans back and crosses his arms.

I spin my finger in a circle at him. “Is that because of the whole transformation manipulation thing?”

He nods. “We think so. They can change their DNA and scramble their fingerprints. ID-ing this bastard is going to be tough.”

“Sounds like you need an old fashion investigator.” I sit up and smile.

Casey looks around. “P, no. Don’t even think about it. You know what happened last time.”

“Oh, phish.” I wave at him. “I would have caught the jewel thief if he didn’t get away.

He leans to me. “You crashed your patrol car into the lead investigators car and fucked up the bust, P. No. Stay in your lane. Please.”

“God, you guys are just a bunch of wet rags.” I wave him off.

He sighs. “P. Just promise me. Don’t try to get involved.”

I side eye from my seat. He’s asking way too much. Does he not know me at all?

He leans close and points at me. “Paisley!”

I flick my eyes ahead and back to him. I cross my fingers in my lap. “I promise.”

He hangs his head and sighs. “Thank you.” He breathes.

“Ok, but I know things, Casey. I can help.” I turn and place my hands on his desk.

“Archer. I’m a very capable investigator. I don't need you.” He turns to his file.

I stand and lean on his desk. “Nobody knows old school police work better than me. If conventional methods aren’t working, then you’re going to have to use the expert sooner or later.”

He arches a brow. “1950s black and whites don’t make you a cop, Archer. Experience does. Which you have none. You’re no expert.”

I stare at him. “You know, that hurts. That really hurts my heart...”

I sit down, but my chairs gone and I fall on my ass with a yelp. I look to Henderson and narrow my eyes. “And my kiester.” I growl as I rub my but cheek.

He smirks at me and turns to his paperwork.

Casey chuckles and shakes his head while I blow out a lock of red hair from my face on the floor.

****

I walk into my apartment on the upper east side of the city.

It's a gorgeous two bedroom apartment. Fresh, decorated with plants and pictures. White furniture and a great view of the dome. I love it. There’s just one problem.

It's empty.

I live alone. Have since my dad died. I felt I needed this.

I did have a great guy with me once. Yep. He was perfect…for my neighbor upstairs. I came home early and heard them through the floor. Guess what I found when I went to complain?

Anyway, that was two years ago. I love living alone. It’s quiet, uneventful. I can walk around naked. I can eat chips in the bubble bath. I’m not lonely at all. No, sir.

I drop my keys on the hallway table.

“I love you, Daddy.” I kiss two fingers and place them onto the red headed police officer in a gold photo frame. I talk to him everyday.

I take off my work shirt and push the message machine button to play the messages beeping on the screen. I only use it for my mom because she doesn’t use cellphones and for some reason won’t call mine. I think she’s struggling without my dad, so I try my best to make her happy.

“Paisley? This is your mother…”

I nod. “Yes, mom. I know it’s you.” I shake my head and walk to my aquarium stand.

“…Anyway. You know Cheryl from next door? The one with the dogs…”

“Yes, mom. I know Cheryl…” I sigh and pick up a small container of crickets.

“…She told me to tell you that there’s a sale on mothballs at the grocery store…”

I scrunch my face and look at the machine. “Why would I want mothballs?”

“They’re good to have around the house, sweetheart. Might want to look into it.”

My mother’s a witch. I swear it.

The machine beeps through the messages and one horrifying message gets my attention.

“…So I was talking with Debra down the street. Her son. You remember Edward?...”

I stick a finger in my mouth and gag.

“…She says he’s coming home from school and said he’d love to have dinner with you. I told Debra you'd be delighted.”

I whip my head to my machine. “What?" I run to machine. “What?!” I rewind it and listen to it again.

“SHIT!” I slap my forehead. I hate my mother!

“If you ask me, you two would make the most beautiful pups…”

“Oh my god!”

She has me mated already to a guy who hasn’t showered in 6 years!!

“I’ll call you later, sweetheart. I have a turkey in the oven.” She hung up then called back. “Oh. The date is this Friday. Wear that blue dress your Aunt Silvia gave you. The one she wore to Uncle Harold’s Wedding 30 years ago. The one with the puffy sleeves. You’d look so beautiful. Bye darling.”

I slam my head in my arms on the little table.

I hate my life.

I walk across my living room and drop two crickets in to my green iguana and pout. “At least, you get me.”

He snaps his tongue out to the cricket and its sticky end catches it, pulling it into his mouth.

I don’t mind being alone. I really don’t. Just some days, it would be nice to cuddle up on the couch with someone and watch The Big Sleep or Casablanca.

We could laugh and cry together. I would fall asleep on his chest. He would carry me to bed and wake me up in the middle of the night for some hanky panky then we’d have breakfast in bed in the morning.

All I want is flowers when I’m sad. I warm hug when I’m feeling overwhelmed. Home cooked dinners with candles and Frank Sinatra. Is that really too much to ask?

If I’m mad at the world and screaming my fool head off, all I want is someone to grab me and kiss me, instead of yelling back.

All I want is to not be alone anymore.

Until my Humphrey Bogart arrives, I sit with my Miami Heat throw blanket and a box of Kleenex.

I put on my favorite crime solving movie. The Big Sleep. It gets me every time. I don’t know why I torture myself, maybe I like the pain of it.

An hour into the movie, I’m pulling Kleenex out of the box. “See…why can’t I have that?” I throw my hand to the TV. Humphrey Bogart just kissed Lauren Bacall.

I sniff hard as I ugly cry at the TV and shove microwave popcorn in my mouth. “I deserve that damn it! I think I earned the right to be scooped up in a handsome man’s arms and kissed like he’d die without it.” I say with my mouth full and wipe my nose.

“What do you think?”

I look to my iguana who’s sitting on my couch cushion giving me an angry look. He blinks at me and digs into his fruit bowl.

I toss my head onto the back of the couch. “Oh my god. I’m pathetic.” I plop my eyes into my Kleenex.

I pull the blanket up around me and finish the movie with the only man who wants to be with me.

A freaking lizard.