*** 02

Tom and Petty had been partners two years and seven months. For a pair of detectives, that was more than long enough to know everything about each other, except for the deepest secrets. The two couldn't be more different, and it was more than just them being of opposite genders. Tom, man, thirty three years old, hundred and seventy four centimetres tall, olive complexion, deep red curly hair, deep brown eyes, and ever smiling. Most importantly, he was all instinct. Petty, woman, thirty years old, hundred and seventy two centimetres tall, snow white complexion, straight black hair falling just past her shoulders, jet black eyes, lips ever pursed, and expression ever stern. Most importantly, she was all science.

The nicknames weren't born out of air. Tom had hunches. He would go to a crime scene, and within a minute see so much more. He just knew things, that he couldn't substantiate, that were sometimes far out there, but were mostly true. In the absence of understanding, Petty did the only thing she could, simply accept. And so, he was the instinct guy.

Petty was the opposite. She followed procedure, believed in science and method. She didn't give much weight to anything without evidence, not even her own senses. And she was always signing up for courses on new techniques and developments in criminal science and investigation. If all of her certificates were framed and hung, they would cover the station's wall. Thus, she was the science gal.

The relationship wasn't all roses. They were almost always arguing, be it about their personal lives or professional opinions. As beautiful as their partnership was, the thorns were many. The current argument was about a course in psychology being offered by prof Hinashima Aikawa. The course was centred around her study of the subconscious, in particular about how some people's subconscious perceived greater detail than others' either due to life experiences or an innate quality of their personality, making them able to see much more detail in a scene. When Petty read about the study, she was struck by surprise. She was happy at finally being able to discard the idea of Tom having superpowers. His subconscious was just a little better active. She made up her mind about joining the course, and have Tom go along as well. Tom was never very academically inclined. Thus the argument.

They were arguing as they drove.

"I can't believe you signed me up," Tom complained from behind the wheel. "And you forged my signature? How could you? You're an officer of law. Not a member of a law breaking institution."

"Oh shut up," Petty scoffed. "I gifted you the course. So, your signature isn't necessary until the first day, when we actually show up. Stop being a prude. We both know you're not shy."

Tom had a lot more to say, but they had arrived. They were professionals, and could pause their discussions at a moment's notice. They were detectives as they left the car. The neighbours had taken notice by now. They weren't gathering, but they were throwing suspicious glances.

"So it's that kind of a neighbourhood," Petty noted drily.

Tom shrugged. They walked in while observing everything. The first responding officers greeted them, and recounted their observations.

A call was placed to the police hotline, reporting a burglary. When the officers arrived, everything was quiet. Didn't seem to be the neighbours who reported. There was no response to their knocking. The front door was unlocked, and open. They went in, searched the house, but found nothing. There was no one, and nothing seemed out of place. Except for the phone on the kitchen floor.

"What about the neighbours," Tom asked when the female officer finished. "They say anything? Ask anything?"

"What do you mean," she asked back in confusion.

"Hmm, nothing. Thank you. We'll take it from here."

Tom spoke in a warm tone, which sometimes could be worse because of the brusqueness. Petty smiled apologetically, but she didn't seem to mean it either. The officers weren't offended, didn't show it if they were. Their shift wasn't done. They had to return to the streets.

"What are you thinking," Petty asked when they were inside.

"I don't know," Tom answered. "Doesn't it feel odd?"

"Odd? How?"

Petty was truly curious. First impressions were when Tom was at his best. As they gathered evidence, she caught up. But now, at the beginning, was when he had a huge head start.

"Definitely not a burglary," he said, as if talking to himself. "Kidnapping? I don't know. Doesn't seem like it. Doubt the neighbours would have missed a van in their streets. The cameras would have caught it too. Maybe a car. But that would make them true professionals. Like the real kind. But what would such guys want with a suburban family? I don't know, it doesn't feel like a kidnapping. And the phone. Dropped on the kitchen floor? A novice mistake like that? Deliberate? Maybe. Maybe the whole thing is something else."

Viki was the CSI for the case. She came over smiling brightly in greeting. She was one of the few lovers of science who liked Tom better, which was clear from the smile that was wider for him.

"Detectives," she said, nodding at both, before continuing. "So, what we have here is the most perfect crime scene, if it was one. Nothing's out of place. No trace of any crime having happened. If it was any other officer, they would have driven off, writing off the call as nothing. But it was officer Joy. And officer Joy is better than, well, most. The bed isn't made up in the bedroom upstairs, I'm thinking the daughter's bedroom. The cupboard in the hallway, it's not in its usual state. Almost as if someone was hiding in it. And, in the kitchen, by the phone, traces of sweat. Like she hid there for a while, and she was sweating. The daughter, I think. That's all I've got. We've dusted the house, picked up prints. We'll run them in the lab, along with the sweat. See ya."

Viki didn't wait for questions, because there was room for none. She left, leaving the detectives unsure in the house.