A little more from NaNoWriMo 2012…


Light filtered through the half-drawn blinds in her office, casting razor sharp shadow strips across everything in her line of sight. This was how Gabi sometimes told the time. The room she rented for when she was doing legwork and needed some quiet only ever got the dying light, and by the looks of things, the day was winding down.

She sighed and pulled her glasses off and squeezed her eyes shut. Gabi had been stuck in the office for hours, fielding calls, harassing medical examiners, bribing anyone she could… You’d think that since her father had left the business on such a stellar note, they would at least extend her some sort of courtesy. But no, instead the police department and everyone else treated her like the thorn in their side.

Maybe she was. She did close cases, much to their dislike. Surely the whole point of this game was to make the sure the bad guys are caught and put in jail? Apparently that was a little too idealistic for her uniformed friends. She never had understood the politics when it came to solving crime.

But they had made one right guess – that dead guy could not have committed suicide. And she was right in assuming he was a religious man. Father Elliot was one of the favourites at the church, and Gabi couldn’t help but notice he was also one of the youngest members of the congregation. So if he had offed himself, his secrets must have been as sordid as they get. Or at least morally dubious enough for him to consider the world a better place without him in it, and hell the most deserving place of all for his eternal soul.

Gabi leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the desk, carefully avoiding the stone cold cup of coffee and her half-eaten lunch. Just as she was getting comfortable and feeling a nap coming on, the goddamned phone rang.

Hitting the speaker button with a pencil, Gabi barked “Colt.”

“Quite a bedside manner you have, Colt.” Fucking David.

“It’s all for you, baby.” Grumbling, she leaned back again and closed her eyes. “What do you want, David?”

“I figured you might have wanted to hear what the medical examiner had to say… but if you’re going to be like that…” Her eyes shot open, she pulled her feet off the desk and sat up straight, picking up the phone and cancelling the speaker.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know, Colt, what are you going to do for me in return?” Seriously?

“Seriously?” Gabi asked, annoyance biting her tone.


“Isn’t this against police code or something? Are you even allowed to bribe and evade?”

She heard him huff on the otherside. “Listen, you want the info or not?”

“Obviously I want the info.”

“So let me buy you dinner?” It started out like a tickle at the back of Gabi’s throat, but soon grew into an obnoxious guffawing laugh. She could practically hear him reaching for his gun on the other side of the phone.

“Whatever David. I’ll settle for drinks. Joe’s Bar, 9pm. See ya.”

Putting the phone down, Gabi grinned. Drinks with David. That could go so impossibly right, or so, so, so wrong.


About sonneillon

Avid reader (of sometimes dubious literature), word-lover and crazy TV series watcher. If I could live in a library, I would.

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"We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown."

- T. S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (1917)

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