Raymond needed coffee.
Ironic, he knew. He had just had some at the diner, and again upon returning to the station. But he needed it, and this damn coffee pot was taking too long. His large fingers drummed on the surface of the countertop, a low growl tickling the back of his throat.
Drip, drip, drip.
“Damn this contraption.” Raymond bent down, peering at the pot more closely. “Brew.”
A chuckle came from the doorway, and he turned his head to eye the Captain. The Captain was a spry looking human female, with stark white hair and a warm smile. She also was rather fierce, and had in her day captured some of the worst criminals to plague New Dark.
“Captain.” Raymond straightened, inclining his head to her.
“No need to be so formal, Raymond. We are, after all, long time friends.” She strolled into the room, her eyes glancing toward the rather slow coffee pot. “I do not know why you bother. That entire pot makes up your cup.”
“No time to leave.” He turned back to the pot, folding his arms as he frowned down at the coffee pot in question.
“Nonsense. I am sending you home anyways.” She reached into a cupboard, producing a simple white mug.
“Sending me home? Why?” His eyes snapped to her, narrowing to slits that nearly hid their deep green color.
“Detective Hornwhistle told me what happened Raymond.” Her fingers tapped lightly on the top edge of her mug. She stood, back straight, one hand ever resting near the gun in her holster. “The question is, why didn’t you report it yourself?”
“I did not know what to make of it, Captain. It was probably just a one time fluke.” Raymond moved his massive cup closer to the pot now, and felt her eyes judging him as he stared back at the coffee pot.
“Then it’ll be easy for you to go home, rest, and see your doctor on Monday.” She reached out, snagging the pot as soon as it made the beep sound. He grunted, watching her pour the dark liquid in her cup. “Enjoy your weekend, Raymond.”
With that, she left the room, sipping her fresh, hot coffee. Raymond looked after her, then sighed to himself. He opened the highest cupboard and placed his mug among the other rather large mugs there.
As he made his way out of the Bureau, his heavy steps thudding through the crowded desks, Howard suddenly popped up next to him. He held a donut in his hand, clearly a peace offering.
Raymond glanced down at it - chocolate glazed. He breathed in deeply, willing himself to be stronger, and then took the donut.
“Should have kept your mouth shut, Ward.” The donut, a rare delicacy made for one his size, still fit in his mouth with on violent shove.
“Damn, Ray! Savor it.” Howard frowned at him, following like a loyal dog as they passed through the doors to the lobby. “Ya know I couldn’t. Nothing brings you down usually.”
Raymond shook his head at him, and pointed to his overfull nose with a shrug. Howard rolled his eyes to the heavens, stopping by the front desk as Raymond continued on.
“Just enjoy yer weekend, Ray!” He called after him. Raymond waved over his shoulder but did not turn to look at him.
Raymond enjoyed walking, and today was no exception. He only used his car if he had too, but he lived just a few, though large, blocks away. Most people would hate the long commute of four blocks, each practically its own little world. But Raymond found it soothing for his mind. It gave him time to run over evidence, which was what he was doing right now.
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No murder weapon had been found, which did not surprise him. Normally with a case like this, the killer would have taken them with them. The other two victims were exactly the same, their wings hacked off, and all of them female.
“But for what purpose?” He rubbed his face, and shook his head. He had to take his mind off the case, at least for a moment. Perhaps he really should go for a cup of coffee, after all. He knew just where to go, too.
The Hot Spot was a small, but popping coffee shop on the next block. It sat in the perfect spot to be frequented by the multiple office buildings around. So Raymond was unsurprised to find the small, cozy shop filled.
The tables in front of the large windows were filled with patrons, as were the benches that followed along the walls. It was the line that was most impressive, especially for this time of day. In the morning, the line would go outside, but now, the giant troll managed to squeeze in at the glass doors themselves.
When he reached the front of the line, the barista, a college age looking kid, looked up at Raymond and balked. She was quickly ushered to the side by her more experienced colleague, and manager.
“Afternoon, Raymond. Though it's about evening.” He offered a warm smile, “Usual?”
“Always. Make it to-go.” Raymond leaned against the counter, making sure to brace most of his weight on his feet. It was more for show, so to speak. As the barista, Frank, made his order, Raymond looked around the café.
“Anything else today?” Frank held out his drink, and Raymond took it with a shake of his head.
“Not today.” He headed toward the door, taking a sip of his drink. The sweet, warm taste of peppermint, raspberry and chocolate washed over his tongue and he smiled to himself, briefly.
As he reached the door, taking in one last inhale of the café, a strange scent pricked his nose. He knew it now, better than before, but it stung as it dug into his nostrils. Within a moment he could smell nothing but it, and snorted, rubbing at his nose as he looked around. Everything seemed ordinary, that scent seeming to fade as quickly as he smelled it.
But the hair on his neck rose, his breathing switching to his mouth, just in case. He felt his heart beat slow, ears practically pricking up, as his whole focus shifted to finding the source. The café was too crowded, people milling about, all of them talking in a mixture of overly loud and hushed whispers.
He turned his head, searching back toward the counter. There he saw Frank, busy putting on the charm with a cute brunette. Beyond Frank was his crew, all of them busy making coffees, but he couldn’t pinpoint where the smell had come from.
Maybe the Captain was right…He should get checked by his doctor.
Strolling outside, he took another sip of his coffee and pulled out his phone, putting it to his ear. She didn’t leave him waiting long.
“Hey, Rebecca. It’s me, Raymond.” The people passing by paid him no mind as he made his way down the street.
“No shit, Sherlock. What do you want?” Her snippy voice made him smile.
“Can’t I just be calling to be sociable?” In his mind’s eye he could see her, her dirty blonde hair pulled into a messy bun. The phone perched perilously between her shoulder and side of her head while she scribbled notes down. The line between her brows, and the way her mouth scrunched up when she was focusing.
“Maybe when pigs fly.”
“Heh. Alright. I need a favor.” Instead of crossing 3rd Avenue, he cut to the left, making a beeline for the park.
“I don’t know, Ray. Last time I did you a favor, it blew up in my face.” The chair she sat in creaked, and he knew she had leaned back. Probably was drumming her fingers on the arm of the seat.
“This one is easy, I promise.” Raymond shrugged a bit, as if she could possibly see that.
“That’s what you said last time, but I’ll bite…” The chair squeaked this time, meaning she spun to face her office. “What is it?”
“Get me into a specialist. A troll specialist.” He found a bench and sank onto the metal and plastic structure. “I need to go in Monday morning.”
“What am I, your mother?” She sneered the words at him.
“Come on, Becca. Please.” Raymond leaned back against the back of the bench. “Do it for me.”
“Ugh! Fine!” It was a relief to hear her agree, and he decided he’d have to do something nice for her later. “But this is the last favor, Ray!”
“On my honor.” Raymond took a sip of his coffee. “I’ll treat you next time.”
“You better. Make it eel and sushi.”
“Heh. Alright.” As soon as he had agreed, Rebecca cut the line. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps seeing the doctor will shed some light on what was blocking his senses.
Which was good for another reason. Knowing it was could help him catch the killer, which Raymond aimed to do quickly.
He rose from the bench, and tossed his empty cup in the garbage as he strolled from the park. No time like the present to keep going, off the clock or not.