Maybe life was too short not to acknowledge the things you cared about; the people you cared about. Maybe she was done with her self-imposed penitence, denying herself happiness and pleasure.
“I guess I wanted to see you,” she admitted. Despite needing that space after the Bountiful case, Mitch had never been far from her mind. That’s why she’d kept that disc. That’s why she’d watched it too. More than once.
He nodded, then stood from his chair. “It’s late, Salvi.”
She felt her stomach sink a little; regretted having come here like this. “I know…” She nodded and stood. “I’m sorry.” She moved to the door and he followed her.
“You don’t have to go. That’s not what I’m saying.”
She turned around to face him.
“I told you I’d be here when you were ready to see where this goes,” he said. “I just didn’t expect it to be at nearly four o’clock in the morning.”
She smiled softly. “You should know by now that nothing is straightforward with me.”
He said nothing. She stared deep into his eyes.
“I guess I just wanted you to know that I’m… back.”
He nodded and raised his hand to study the healing patch on the side of her neck. She felt his warm fingers brush her skin, then he locked his gaze with hers again. “Does that mean you want to stay?”
Her eyes poured warmth into his.
“Yeah. I do.”
Salvi stood dressed, staring out the circular window of Mitch’s apartment. In the corner of her eye she saw him blink awake and stretch out. He saw her by the window, grabbed his iPort off the bedside table and tilted it to view the time.
“Doing another runner on me?” he asked, studying her.
She looked at him and smiled. “If I was doing a runner I’d be gone by now.”
“And yet you’re not laying here beside me in bed.”
“I did last night. Isn’t that enough for now?”
Mitch rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Guess it’s going to have to be.”
Salvi walked to the door, pausing when she reached it. “Intimacy isn’t my strong suit, Mitch.” She opened the door and looked back at him. “But… maybe one day it will be.”
Salvi read through the Medical Examiner’s report on their photographer vic, Devon Barker. Dr Kim Weston had estimated the time of death to be around 12.30am. Cause of death was no surprise; traumatic brain injury. The apartment was clean of fingerprints, but Salvi noted that Weston had managed to collect some fibers from the vic which she was taking a closer look at.
Hernandez and Bronte entered the bullpen just as she peeled the healing patch off her neck. The abrasions had already sealed over and were well on their way to disappearing altogether. The healing patches really were a marvel of modern medicine.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Hernandez joked, eyeing her neck.
“First day back and you got into it again, Salv?” Bronte’s deep voice was amused.
“She’s a scrapper this one,” Hernandez grinned.
She smiled at them. “Would you like me to give you matching ones?”
“Meow!” Hernandez laughed, walking over to his desk. Bronte grinned and followed, as Beggs entered sipping a coffee.
“Hey,” Salvi greeted him. “Any word on when we can see Myki Natashi?”
“Not yet, but let’s head down to the hospital now, huh?”
Salvi nodded and moved to collect her coat. “You see Weston’s report?”
“Yeah. Nothing we didn’t expect. How’s Riverton going with the warrant for the house AI?”
“Still working on it,” Salvi said, moving for the door.
“Wait,” Ford called as she emerged from her office. “I’ve got an update from Narcotics. Where’re Grenville and Caine?”
“Right here,” Mitch said as he entered the bullpen alone. Salvi locked eyes with his briefly, before turning back to Ford.
“And Caine?” Ford asked Mitch.
“He’s checking on something. I’ll update him.”
“Alright,” Ford said, “then gather round.”
Hernandez and Bronte moved to join them, as Salvi, Beggs and Mitch clustered near Ford.
“Narcotics have released a warning on a new nasty that’s about to hit the streets,” Ford told them. “Well, they think it’s already on the streets, but that it’s only a matter of time before it hits in a big way. Word is, it’s like meth times a thousand. They’re trying to find out where it’s coming from but want us to keep our ears to the ground. If anyone’s going to hear about this drug, it’s us, because it sounds like we’ll be the ones wiping the bodies off the sidewalks. Got it?”
The team nodded, as Hernandez posed a question.
“This drug got a street name yet?”
“Yeah,” Ford said, “they’re calling it Fyte. That’s F-Y-T-E.”
“Well, that sound ominous,” Bronte said.
“Great,” Beggs said with a sarcastic tone. “So it’s called Fyte and it’s a souped-up version of meth. That should make our jobs easier then.”
“Hey, criminals keep evolving, so we gotta evolve with ‘em, Beggs,” Ford said.
“I’m getting too old for this shit,” he muttered.
“Just keep your eyes and ears out, right?” Ford said. “We’re looking for particularly violent crimes that may have involved drug use.”
Salvi’s mind turned over the footage from Kelto’s Diner of Tynan Williams pacing around as the blood poured from his bullet wounds. She looked back at Ford. “Like, maybe the Kelto’s Diner shoot-out?” she asked, curious. “Witnesses said Williams appeared to be on something that made him agitated and aggressive, and he was active a lot longer than he should’ve been with that blood loss. Do we need to get a toxicology report on this guy?”
Ford sighed. “Let’s not reopen a case unless we have to.”
“Our photographer last night had his head smashed in good,” Beggs added, looking at Salvi with raised eyebrows, “and his girlfriend was pretty out of it too.”
“Doped up, though,” Salvi said. “Not aggressive.”
“Your scratched neck says otherwise.”
Salvi shrugged. “It was a normal reaction to strangers wanting to touch her. She
