CHAPTER 4

Walking into the building and seeing everyone pause their work for a minute to gawk at us and then whisper to each other even after four months is getting a lot more ridiculous and a lot less pleasing, I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. I look over at Ivy, on my right, clad in her skin coloured frock covered in flowers with white knee high boots and gloves and a matching white hat perched atop her head, walking with an almost continuous bounce in her step, twirling a stand of her chocolate brown waves which have finally grown back till her elbows but I will bet good money that she will have them cut back to shoulder length or even smaller before the month ends. To my left Hazel is walking with a very bored expression like she cannot wait for this day to be over with when it is not even Eight am yet but well that is Hazel for you, she is wearing her signature all black look with a slick black blouse and matching straight black trousers with pockets, always with pockets, in which she has stuck her hands, on top of that she has a very well made black wool sweater and a matching black scarf wrapped around her neck, while her jet black hair is pulled up into a neat pony tail going till a little above her waist which is quite long for what she usually goes for but I guess long hair seems to be a theme going among us at the moment what with my blonde hair being so long that it stops at my hip but I quite like them long.

The Bureau's building is very typical made of solid bricks, ever room containing one window lined with cream coloured curtains consisting for three tables each with a chair of its own to accommodate three officers, one wall of each room is lined with a black board for plotting and putting up leads. Outside the building there is a small patch of grass with a few flowers growing on the sides while the pavement to the front door runs in between leading to four stairs and a brown wooden door. On entering there is the main hall, lined on two sides with different booths for lower ranking officers that deal with everyday complaints and missing reports etcetera. The building is painted a boring black inside and out.

Walking through the main hall towards the hallway directly across from the door leads to different offices on either sides, turning a left from the narrow halfway the first office was assigned to us when we came here back in September, much to everyone's dismay, what with us being only 25 years old but people ought to stop gossiping and start working to get to the position we are with the reputation we have of never letting a case run longer than two months. The case that ran two months of a bit of a bummer because if not for that then we would have a record of getting cases solved under our belts with a maximum of a month but well some cases are bound to give us more trouble than some, not that I am complaining.

Inside the office I go to my desk that it is in the far right corner while Hazel drops down on her desk to my right, across from the door while Ivy's desk is in front of mine.

I have barely taken my seat when there is a hurried knock on the door none of us has even uttered the permission before the door swings open a panting young officer named Sterling is standing there, I get up from my seat and before I can ask him what the matter he is speaking, "Conference room, now, White." He barely looks back over his shoulder with a grim expression and says, "We have got some trouble."

I am up and out of the room anyone else has the chance to say anything. I silently follow Sterling to the conference room while accessing every point of the case in head, turning it over and over to see what might have happened and the only conclusion I can come up with is… a new victim, but that certainly cannot be a causing trouble to make Sterling look like he has seen a ghost, right?

Right?

Stepping into the conference room I am ready to deal with whatever that has happened but I certainly was not ready to deal Federal officers surrounding the table, leaning over my cases photos. I take a deep breath to calm myself down and clear my throat, all of the head turn towards me from the photos except for one. One thing everyone knows about me and something I am not ashamed to admit is that I am bit of an attention seeker, of who am I kidding I am attention hoarder and if someone does not pay me enough attention it royally pissed me off and to say that I dislike those people would be an understatement. So being ignored this early in the morning by someone who should be giving me his entire and undivided attention seems to set me off, I narrow my eyes on the head of perfectly made mop of chocolate brown curls connected to, from where I am standing, a short neck and broad shoulders, hunched over the photos we have collected so far. He is dressed in an impeccable grey tailored suit, his left wrist adorned with an expensive looking watch and the same hand holding the latest victims photo and the right hand seems to disappear under the table. When his left hand moves a little I refocus my eyes on his head, or maybe face now because he finally seems to have looked up.

Our eyes meet and I for a moment am left reeling with how clear of a green his eyes are but then my face forms a scowl when I see him smirks back at me.

.∅∅∅.

Heaven helps all if he and I have to stay in the same room for more than a few minutes.