I have never written a note I didn't mean.
Erik Satie
The supplies, including the wire, were already in Jorge’s truck. They made the transfer from Miguel’s garage to the truck in secret the night before. A very slight breeze moved over his face. It felt as delicate as the melody line to his current favorite piano piece. Music was intertwined with his walking on wire almost as tightly as the braided steel he walked on. He felt the wire with his toes the same way he felt the keys on the piano, the effort was intentional but the weight from his arms and legs was relaxed and only carried enough force to propel him forward.
Miguel saw the lights on Jorge’s truck go out as he came to a stop in front of the house.
Stevie Dangerfield felt the perspiration on her neck. A drop trickled down between her shoulder blades. She pulled her thick, brown hair back into a pony tail. It was only 9:00 am but the heat was going to reach record levels today. The Seattle precinct was air-conditioned but the unit in the Homicide division was broken. Small fans placed around the room hummed, working hard to move the stagnant air.
The computer in front of her flickered and the report she was reading blurred before her eyes. A haunting piece of music was circling around in her head. The tone was minor. Grace notes flitted up and down the octaves, louder first and followed by the same melody more softly, as an echo. Before coming to work she had seen the sheet music sitting on the music stand on her piano. Her mother was likely teaching the piece to one of her students. She couldn’t resist playing through the familiar Gnossienne No. 1 by Erik Satie. The mood was both eery and peaceful. The tune followed her to work and now she had a nagging ear worm leaving her in a melancholy mood.
She looked over at Reggie Watts, her partner, sitting at his desk facing her. His dark hair looked slightly damp around the ears. It looked like it had been recently cut. The white shirt he was wearing was open at the neck and she noticed his pulse beating regularly at the base of his neck. A slight shadow of a beard on his cheeks and under his nose gave him a rakish appearance. She forced herself to look away and back to the screen.
She picked up on some discrepancies in the police report from their last case as she refocused and starred at the list of items recovered from a crime scene.
“Stevie!”
Reggie’s voice interrupted her search for more errors. She looked up and noticed Captain Monson standing behind Reggie. Where did he come from? He was looking at her quizzically as if he had been talking to her. His expression was serious but not unkind.
“Sorry, what did I miss?” She liked Captain Monson so much better than other bosses she had in the past. She trusted his instincts and appreciated his confidence in her police work.
“Whatever you are doing must be gripping. As I was saying...,"
The Captain cleared his throat now that he had her attention.
"I am asking you and Watts here, to take an assignment outside this precinct. The Highland Park City Police Chief is a friend of mine and he has reached out for help. They had a suspicious death this morning. He needs a couple of detectives to investigate who are outside of his team and who can make some delicate inquiries. I recommended the both of you and he is asking that you go over there immediately.” It bothered Stevie that Captain Monson was not meeting her eyes.What was he not telling them.
“Can you give us more information?” Reggie asked.
“No, I need you to just go and investigate. Find out what happened and work with the other ………” Captain Monson turned away before he finished the sentence.
Reggie pulled his tall athletic body up from his desk and grabbed his pack. Stevie watched Reggie take his holster and gun from his desk and carefully place it inside. He looked at her expectantly.
“Do you know the address?” Stevie asked.
“I’ve been to Highland Park. It’s about 20 minutes south of Seattle. Come on, pull yourself away from that report.” He was moving towards the door and Stevie had to quickly grab her gear to catch him.
While Reggie was driving south on the 509 highway, Stevie was still in a foggy state of mind. Her thoughts jumped from idea to idea leaving her a little muddled. She went back to remembering a few nights earlier. That night she had accompanied Reggie to a care facility where she played the piano for a group of residents, including Reggie’s father, who was living there after a debilitating stroke. They sang songs from the forties and fifties. Harry, Reggie’s father asked to sing his favorite, “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” a Richard Rodgers composition. The tune was familiar to Stevie but the words were new. As she played she listened and watched Harry sing the lyrics, “Couldn’t sleep, wouldn’t sleep, then love came and told me I shouldn’t sleep.” He smiled at her while he sang with a rich baritone voice. His eyes drifted over to his only son. As Stevie followed Harry’s glance she noticed Reggie was watching her. He looked away when she caught his eye.
It made her self conscious now to be sitting next to Reggie in the car. What was she feeling for him. His right hand was resting on the console between them while his other hand tapped the steering wheel. She looked at his large hand and noticed the well kept cuticles. His fingernails were evenly cut straight across.
“What are you thinking about?” Reggie asked.
A warmth came up into her face and she turned to look out the driver’s side window.
“I’m thinking about what could be going on in the Highland Park precinct.” She kept her face turned away hoping the color would return back to normal.
“I’ve never heard of loaning homicide detectives to another city, have you?” Stevie turned back to Reggie and agreed that it was a weird request.
“We may be heading into an awkward situation. Let’s play it cool and not ruffle any feathers.”
“Agreed.” Stevie took a deep breath and met Reggie’s eyes.
