"Inspector, the reports from the lab just came and Dr Ramirez personally told me to deliver these to you. He said he had some urgent personal business to attend to," said the mousy lab assistant. She didn't look Cyrus in the eye and was fidgeting on the spot, hoping to be let off soon. Detective Inspector Cyrus Threadgill was also called 'The Silencer' by his colleagues because of his ability to drive even the most eloquent officer to silence and tears with his harsh words.
Cyrus raised his eyebrows, waved his hand as a gesture for her to leave and began to shuffle through the report. Whatever Theron had told him earlier had been confirm by the actual post-mortem. The head wound killed him almost instantly. Then why the show with the shot to the heart and testicles?
Cyrus frowned and decided he will have to read through the report in detail later on. He needed to first talk to his other officers working on the case to see if they had come up with any leads to bring him a step closer to some answers.
On the top of the list was an interrogation with their lead suspect- Mrs. Sybilla Wilde. Cyrus didn't think that the demure Mrs. Wilde was capable of doing such gruesome act; knock herself senseless only to wake up, grieving like the bereaved widow she is now. It just didn't make sense. The blood was sprayed on her clothes as well, meaning that she must have been standing behind the victim. Yet she claims that she did not remember anything.
From the corner of his eyes, Cyrus spotted a brunette frisking by; turning his head a slight angle, he spotted her.
She looked better than she did the other time. In her crisp business suit and tight chignon bun, she didn't look like she was about to ask for his number.
"Detective Threadgill?" her tone wasn't enquiring but one seeking confirmation.
"Yes, Ma'am," Cyrus replied, the curiosity in his voice unmistakable.
"What the hell have you done, you sick bastard?" she hollered; slapping her palm on the desk in front of him.
Heads turned and a scarlet flush crept up his face.
"Cy, with that hot head, you're on your own" said a detective to his direction.
Rolling his eyes, Cyrus grabbed her hand and led her out of the building. He could feel her eyes burning holes into him. Those whiskey eyes... and her scent were sending his blood boiling.
"Inspector, what do you think you're doing by putting my client in custody without seeking my advice? Who do you think you are? Oh, she has her rights and I will make sure she gets them!" Eulalie managed to shoot her venom even though she appeared to be smiling at him.
Amused yet surprised to be spoken to in that tone, Cyrus simply stared at her, contemplating his next course of action.
In the sunlight, her hair actually had streaks of blond in them and beneath her powder; he could see her pretty freckles spread across her cheeks. He never understood why but he always found freckles cute. Cyrus didn't know what exactly about her that intrigued him. But before he could stop himself, he blurted, "Why don't you have coffee with me?"
Eulalie stopped in her tracks and turned her perfectly heeled feet to face him. Her eyes flickered over his body for a moment; her eyes showing the contemplation going through her mind. Sashaying boldly to his side; she stood merely inches from him and whispered to his ear, "I like to make my own moves."
Stepping back, she smiled and said, "Why don't we discuss this over lunch? I have a proceeding in two hours and I need to fill up my stomach."
To the world, his face did not register a single flicker of emotion, but in his head, Cyrus was practically in hysterics. This woman is something, he thought. Never in his twenty-eight years did her ever meet a white girl he didn't consider too boring or demure. Whatever he saw in Sybilla that night, Eulalie clearly was the opposite.
***
"So Detective, tell me, did my sister not request for me to be present for her interrogation as I have instructed?" she asked, taking a spoonful of pasta into her mouth. Cyrus caught himself staring at her mouth and almost didn't hear the question.
"She did not Ms. Duras," he replied, smiling to himself as a wave of confusion and embarrassment washed over her.
She was silent for a moment. Cyrus figured she was possibly trying to put forth an argument or trying to see if there were other cracks that she could attack him with. He knew that his office called him 'The Silencer', yet in the current situation he was in, he did not appreciate this silence that was growing between them.
"I was on the Police Force scholarship to major in law at Columbia. So whatever you're thinking of doing, over this meal; just stop at the thinking part. This is my move now," said Cyrus as he leaned over the table and set his mouth on hers.
He kept his eyes open and saw the shock register in her widened eyes. Almost as swiftly as his lips had touched hers, he pulled back and leaned back on the chair. As if on impulse, she wiped her mouth with the napkin provided and glared at him.
"Don't ever do that to me again. I will sue your freaking black ass and the entire police department if I have to. Is that understood?" the anger in her voice was unmistakable. Cyrus merely smiled, enjoying the game he was playing.
"Sure, if that's your move," he replied and got up; tipping an imaginary hat in her direction, he walked back to his office. He was positively sure that she was seething mad right now.
*** Sitting in her car, Eulalie frowned, thinking about the exchange she had with that incorrigible Inspector. She never fell into silence and was never undermined as she was at that dining table. Oh, he thought he was so hot and macho in his black tailored pants and neatly pressed shirts. She bet that his mother still ironed them for him.
Oh, she did not notice his cute butt or his light tuff of brown curls. Oh, she certainly did not also notice his torso which was muscled and lean from all that training. Eulalie hated herself for not noticing all those things. But she hated herself most for not noticing that bulge between his thighs. Was it true about what they said about black men? Eulalie shuddered.
"FINE! I'm in denial, damn it!" she shouted to no one in particular. Lucky for her, she was in her car and no one was within her range.
