Mindspace Investigations [4.6] Temper by Alex Hughes

Author:Alex Hughes [Hughes, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Mystery, Science Fiction
Goodreads: 28094872
Published: 2015-12-16T07:00:00+00:00

After one more errand, I was back on the road for, hopefully, the last time today. I was pissed and tired, and Atlanta at three p.m. was just the kinder, gentler version of the die-now-please rush hour we’d all come to know and love—just as clogged and dangerous and frustrating as ever. But I did get to flip some people off.

I pulled up to a small building a few streets away from Decatur Square and turned the car off. Took deep breaths. Then picked the paper bag that was the result of my errand up off the passenger side of the car.

I missed Adam, I realized all at once. I missed having him here, to talk to, to complain to, just to be there. I hadn’t heard from him since yesterday while he was off doing important things for the police department, and I was angry and sad and wished I was there, doing what he was doing. Or, better, wished for him to be here, doing what I was doing. Wasn’t that what this whole PI firm thing was about in the first place? I thought better when he was around. I had to explain things with him there. I had to think—or at least tell him to get out of my head, which made me think. I felt testy and blocked-off without him.

Tyler’s words came back to me, and I got angry. I wasn’t—I pushed the thought to the side. Adam wasn’t—I grabbed the bag and a box, got out of the car, and slammed the door too hard behind me. My breath fogged in the February air; I’d forgotten my scarf at Collins’ office and my neck was cold. Well, let it be cold. Adam wasn’t here, he wasn’t going to be here, he had better things to do, and we weren’t together anymore. We weren’t together, and Peter wasn’t…well, there wasn’t any danger I’d forget him for someone new, now was there? Somebody like Tyler, he was good, he was a known quantity, a friend—supportive, kind, but not demanding. Peter would have understood Tyler if he’d known he wasn’t going to be here. Adam, now…

I pushed away from the car, gathered my thoughts together, and marched up the brick stairs, past the sign that said COMPLEX DIAGNOSTIC SPECIALISTS to the small converted house. The front door stuck; it always stuck, but I got it open.

I stomped my feet on the mat on the inside and said hello to Rhonda, who was filling out paperwork in the main room. Unlike the exterior, the interior of the building was all tile and gleaming white surfaces filled with microscopes and diagnostic equipment of all kinds, a laboratory for medical types that sometimes handled the DNA testing overflow from the DeKalb Police Department’s lab when it got too backlogged. Or when, like today, a certain Isabella Cherabino needed her evidence processed faster than the brass would otherwise make possible.

The fact that today wasn’t an official case for an official department didn’t matter.

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