Ryan and Hawkins watched the screen together in silence for a time. Duane sat on the cot with his head in his hands, then he rose and began to pace, then he lay down on his back. This repeated several times. Just when Ryan was starting to consider gnawing off his own foot to escape the tedium, a voice from the hallway interrupted.

“The action never stops with you, does it Taylor?”

Ryan hit pause and turned to find a tall, platinum-haired man standing in the doorway. He was sporting impeccably sculpted facial stubble, a deep golden tan and what appeared to be a very expensive suit. Hawkins swivelled around in her chair to face him, a wry smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Ethan Cross. Finally, back from Dubai, I see.”

“If only I’d been back sooner,” his voice filled with mock regret. “I could have saved you some trouble and taken this case off your hands.”

“Saved me some trouble, eh?” Hawkins’s voice was saccharine sweet, “I’m sure. You could have saved me the trouble of questioning the victim, because you never would have found him.”

“You think so?” he raised a brow. “I’m willing to bet that I not only would have found him, but I would have done it without losing both of my suspects.”

“Easy to bet, when you’ll never have to put up.”

“No, easy to bet when you know you’d win,” he grinned.

“Look, I’m sure that you’re very good at what you do, whatever that is,” she waved a hand dismissively. “But leave the investigative work to those of us with a talent for it, ok?”

“And that would be you?” he asked incredulously.

“I think history has proven that. More than once, I might add.”

“A bit of bad luck on my part,” he retorted. “One of these days, I’ll show you what I am really capable of.”

“Oh, I think I’ve already seen your best,” her eyes twinkled mischievously.

“You wish,” Cross chuckled, dropping into the chair next to her.

“So, how did Dubai play out?” Hawkins asked amiably.

“Brilliantly, of course. You know, I think you would have liked this one. It turned out that our diplomat was murdered by his mistress/secretary. She followed him down there, on his request of course, and when he dumped her and fired her, she snapped. She locked him in his in the steam room in his hotel suite and left him there to cook. The wife found him 8 hours later. It was pretty gruesome stuff. Did you know a human could be fall-off-the-bone tender? Because I could have gone my whole life without picking up that little tidbit and I would have been perfectly happy,” Cross shuddered slightly. “Why can’t people just commit their crimes here at home and save me the jet lag and time in customs?” he sighed.

“Because then you wouldn’t get the nice tan, or the expensive hotel stay,” Hawkins chuckled.

“True. Can’t complain, I suppose.”

“But still you do,” Hawkins shook her head. “Hell, a case that easy should count as vacation time.”

“Is that why you never take vacations?”

“It would be like stealing from the company,” she replied with mock sincerity. “Speaking of stealing, is that Armani?” she fingered the sleeve of his suit jacket.

“Canali, actually,” he replied proudly. “It was a gift.”

Hawkins scoffed,

“I’m not even going to ask.”

Ryan watched this entire exchange in silent fascination. He hadn’t known that Hawkins had any friends within the agency, though perhaps that was because this wouldn’t be what most people defined as a ‘friendship’ per say. It seemed more like a rivalry. It figured.

“How about now?” Cross turned to her, serious now. “Are you ‘on vacation’ at the moment?”

“No,” she admitted. “There is something about this case, Ethan. I…”

She was interrupted mid-sentence by the appearance of a woman in the doorway behind Cross.

“There you are, Ethan,” the brunette frowned. “I was wondering where you disappeared to. I thought you were right behind me.”

“Oh, Mia, I’m sorry. I just spotted Taylor and couldn’t resist stopping in to say hello. I’ll be right with you.”

Ryan got to his feet.

“Mia?” his voice raised in surprise. “When did you get back to town?”

“Ryan?” she gasped. “Oh my god!”

Mia rushed over, throwing her arms around his neck, she embraced him. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he returned the greeting. It would have been rude not to.

“How long has it been?” Ryan asked, stepping away and looking her over.

She smiled and ran her hand through her hair, smoothing it reflexively,

“Thanks. I guess it’s been 4 years, now. Since the day I was transferred to Montreal.”

“You still wear the same perfume, though,” he murmured. “Brings back memories.”

“You always did notice the little things,” she laughed.

Ethan and Hawkins were the ones watching in silence this time. Mia turned back to Ethan.

“Ry was my partner a few years back,” she said, as if that explained everything.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“I see,” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “So, as your new partner, when can I expect that sort of greeting?”

“Well maybe if you’d stop disappearing every time I turned my back, I’d consider it,” she replied.

The two of them glared at each other for a moment. Hawkins rolled her eyes.

“The world is just full of coincidences, isn’t it? But you two seem to have a lot to discuss, and we are very busy here,” she ushered Ethan back out into the hall. “So, good luck with that.”

“Hey, wait a minute, Hawkins!” he protested. “You still haven’t told me about the case.”

“Must have slipped my mind,” Hawkins muttered. “I don’t have the time now, maybe later, Cross.”

While they were talking, Mia pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket; scrawling down a number, she pressed it into Ryan’s hand.

“Give me a call,” she whispered in his ear. “We should, you know, catch up. Now that I’m back.”

He winked and slipped the paper into his pocket. Then she rushed out into the hall after her partner; Ryan enjoyed the view as she left.

Once they were both out, Hawkins slammed the door and clicked the lock.

“So, what was that all about?” Ryan asked.

Hawkins burst out laughing,

“You’re asking me? You were the one fondling a colleague.”

“True. But what’s more surprising: that or you having a friend?”

“Point taken,” Hawkins conceded. “Though friend is a strong word.”

“So?” Ryan pressed.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really. Ethan just gets a little bit competitive sometimes,” Hawkins chuckled. “He really hates it when I get a more interesting case than him.”

“And how do you know him?”

“It’s actually a funny story. He was supposed to be my ‘mentor’ after I finished my first field assignment. They sent me to shadow him on one of his cases, you know, watch a pro in action,” she chuckled. “I don’t think he ever forgave me for solving it before he did. It’s been like this ever since. I’m sure he really hates that this is my case. Probably came looking for me the minute he stepped off the plane, wanting details.”

“It would have been his,” Ryan commented. “If he hadn’t been in Dubai, I’ll bet.”

“Of course it would have.”

“What, you think he’s better then you are?”

“Sure. Better at following orders. And Collins likes him better.”

“That’s a low bar to clear. It would be hard for Collins to like anyone less then he likes you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” she muttered. “What about you and his partner?”

“Mia? Not much explanation needed. She was a good partner,” he shrugged. “We had a little thing for a while.”

“Must’ve been a pretty amicable breakup, given that reunion.”

“Not really a breakup at all. We never had that kind of relationship. It was very casual, a matter of convenience, if you know what I mean. She got transferred to the Montreal office and we fell out of touch.”

Hawkins turned and looked him up and down, like a specimen under a microscope.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“I’m just trying to figure out what it is women see in you,” she smirked.

“My boyish good looks and my irresistible charm,” he grinned.

Hawkins laughed,

“Must be that sense of humour.”

“That hurts,” he put his hand to his heart, twisting his face in mock pain.

“Truth always does,” Hawkins kicked back in her chair again. “Now, let’s finish the video, before there are any more interruptions.”

Ryan hit play again and settled back into the mind-numbing monotony that was Duane Tompkins’ last hours. The only brief moment of excitement came when his dinner was delivered. Ryan wiled away several minutes trying to figure out what the mystery meat with odd pink sauce was. Eventually he gave up, Duane finished his meal and the boredom resumed. As his mind drifted, he touched Mia’s phone number in the pocket; he would have to call her, maybe tonight, if they finished up in time. His reverie was broken when Hawkins reached across to slow down the video.

“What is it?” Ryan asked.

“Look,” she pointed at the screen.

Ryan leaned in closer. It took him a moment, but eventually he noticed the beads of sweat rolling down Duane’s face. Ryan had been down in that holding cell this morning himself; it was cold and drafty, not exactly a sauna. And Duane hadn’t been sweating until an instant ago. He was suddenly looking very uncomfortable. He stood up and started to pace his cell, mopping sweat from his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt. After a moment, he began rubbing his left arm absently and his steady pacing degenerated into a weaving stagger. Suddenly, he clutched his chest and stumbled into the wall, sliding down to the ground. He started writhing on the floor, his face twisted in pain. Then, his eyes closed, and he stopped moving. After that, nothing happened for a long time. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly, the dead man lying silently on the floor, alone and unnoticed. His absolute stillness was mesmerizing. Then, suddenly, there was a shout and the guards arrived; in an instant, the cell became a hive of activity. Guards, their superiors, the prison doctor, paramedics and finally the coroner, swarmed the cell, first trying to resuscitate, then simply removing the body. Only after the last responder had gone and the cell sat silent and empty did the tape finally end. Ryan looked over at his partner; she was chewing absently on her lip, still staring at the black screen, her eyes far away. Then she reached out and started the video again from the beginning. Ryan groaned and sunk his head into his hands. This was going to be a very long day.

After what seemed like an eternity, the video finally finished for the second time.

“So that’s it then,” Ryan concluded, hoping to head off another repeat performance. “Natural causes.”

Hawkins grunted, an ambiguous response at best, but she said nothing.

“Why is this still bugging you?” Ryan asked.

“He was a young man, no evidence of a pre-existing heart condition in the autopsy, in good physical condition. Coroner didn’t see any signs of drug abuse. Why would he have a heart attack?”

“It could be anything, Hawkins. Hell, it could have simply been the stress of the kidnapping and arrest. It could happen to anyone.”

“It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Going off of a feeling? Odd, coming from someone like you.”

“Not really,” Hawkins replied nonchalantly. “Instinct isn’t something supernatural, you know. It is the accumulation of all the little bits of evidence, the subtle things that may be too small to notice consciously, but together add up to something important. I’m not saying that instinct is always right, but it is worth looking into.”

“So, you really think something is off, here? You aren’t just being paranoid?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But you saw the tape, no one went near him. He had no interaction with the outside world or another human being for 6 hours. What could have happened?”

“He ate dinner,” she mused.

“What?”

“Right before he died, not more than 30 minutes before he collapsed, he ate dinner,” Hawkins was chewing on her lip again; Ryan had noticed she did that when she was thinking. “He could have been poisoned. Something reasonably slow acting, hard to detect, that mimics a heart attack. It would have been perfect.”

“If that’s true, and that’s a big if, how would anyone have gotten access to the food? I mean, there is no way Andre Martin could have managed it.”

“I don’t know. It certainly couldn’t have been Martin. But… well, there is still a lot of investigating to do, obviously.”

“What do we do next, then?”

“Well, we send out for a full toxicology panel on Tompkins, we see if they can find any poison. And while we wait for that, we go figure out how it could have been done.”

“Should we really be wasting time on this, Hawkins? I mean, we already have an active investigation on our plates.”

“This is part of that investigation,” she muttered impatiently. “If Duane really was murdered, then it is a key part of it.”

“But if he wasn’t…” Ryan trailed off.

“OK,” Hawkins sighed. “How about this, I will follow up on Duane, and you keep working the other side. That way, nothing gets neglected. Deal?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Ryan was pleased that she was finally giving him some responsibility, it was progress. “Just one question, where do I start?”

Hawkins rolled her eyes,

“I’d start by talking to Alex Pauling again, if I were you. He is the best witness, after all and he should have calmed down by now. After that, figure it out yourself, it is your job, you know.”

Hawkins stood and strolled over to the door,

“Call me if you get anything.”

She left without another word. Ryan was pretty sure she had never given him her number.