Tracey knocked on her colleague’s door for the 4th time, growing impatient with the lack of response from inside. She ignored the suspicious look a paranoid neighbour threw her way as they made their way past her, and not convinced the woman she was looking for wasn’t inside, continued on her mission.
Realising a sense of urgency had crept into her actions, Tracey pulled back, stopping her fist halfway to the door on her 6th round of knocking. If Kelly was avoiding her, which was looking more and more likely, she wanted to know why, but it suddenly felt inappropriate to be here.
It wasn’t like her partner to say she would do something and then not do it, but it was Saturday. They had nothing urgent to prepare for. Kelly had only said she was coming so she could review their last trial and identify what caused things to go so wrong. Changing her mind at the last minute and staying home was not a huge drama; it wasn’t like Tracey needed her for anything.
“Christ,” Tracey muttered as she dug her phone out of her purse, “she’s probably just hungover.”
Twelve rings later Tracey snapped her phone shut and stared at the purple door, not knowing what she was expecting it to do, but further irritation set in when it didn’t do it.
Tracey slid down the wall and stretched her long slender legs out in front of her, half-heartedly kicking the door with a frown. ‘What on earth am I doing here,’ she sighed to herself, resting her head against the cool concrete wall and staring blankly at the strangely stained ceiling.
Flipping open her phone again she stared at the text message one of her co-workers, and friend, had sent her last night. ‘Kelly knows’ was all it said. Cryptic messages were not Tracey’s favourite way to communicate, and since Hector had declined to offer anymore information she still had no idea what Kelly knew.
Just as she was wondering how a shoe print managed to find its way imprinted up there above everyone’s head, the door she had been banging on moments earlier creaked open slowly.
It took every ounce of Tracey’s inner strength to look cool and nonchalant, despite having just been caught camped outside her colleague’s door. The look on Kelly’s face told her she hadn’t quite pulled it off.
Kelly leaned against the door frame and studied Tracey, looking for a hint of anything Salazar had pointed out to her last night. Ordinarily, she would be mortified at having a male colleague point out the apparent obvious attraction between the 2 women, and then offer some advice, but Salazar was a friend, and a detective who obviously didn’t miss much.
A faint blush crept across Tracey’s cheeks as she felt the blonde’s eyes on her, scrutinising her; seemingly looking for a response to a question unasked. Tracey looked up to meet Kelly’s gaze and smirked as a blush mirroring her own appeared on Kelly’s face.
Ignoring the heat rising in her cheeks, Kelly took a slight step forward, out of the doorway. Her heart was pounding and Kelly had no doubt Tracey could see how nervous she was. “Well come on,” she started with a vague smile, surprised at the evenness of her voice, “are you going to sit out here all day, or are you coming in?”
Making no effort to move off the floor, Tracey looked up at the woman in front of her. The silent communication happening between the two was oozing suggestion but Tracey needed more than unspoken implications to act on.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked softly, the usual edge of cynicism absent from her voice. She felt like she had stumbled upon the missing piece of the puzzle; what Kelly knew.
Kelly struggled for a moment with her response after catching the proposition in Tracey’s question, then with a slight smile playing on her lips replied “I think I’m about to find out.”