« Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… »
Greer walked as fast as possible, almost running, but never leaving the speed-walking they set on. They didn’t want people to see them running, but they had to be fast anyways. Olive called them earlier, asking them to come as soon as possible, threatening them to lock them down in a cell without food if they didn’t arrive immediately.
Their scrunchy in the mouth, they clumsily tried to tie up their hair while still walking. They didn’t want to waste time. Way too scared to get killed by their coworker if they loosed a signle minute, probably. Nearly stumbling several times on the sidewalk, Greer rushed finally to the police station, still insisting on not running.
They quickly climbed the stairs. No way they could loose a single second. Once in front of the deskroom, they stopped a moment to catch their breath. They obviouslly wouldn’t let their coworker find a reason to criticize them because they rushed to come here. Greer inhaled longly and entered the deskroom.
« I’m here, I’m here, claimed Greer, throwing their bag under the hanger.
- You’ll do me the favor to hang up your bag instead of abusing it like that.
Greer grabbed back their bag and hung it up slowly so Olive could clearly see what they were doing.
-Does it suit your exigences ?
Olive looked up to Greer and nodded approvingly.
-Ah, a nod from Olive, my day is truly blessed, exclaimed Greer with a smile.
Olive rolled his eyes and came back to his desk.
- Oh, yes, ignore me, pleasse. Why did you even asked me to come ?
-Greer, you’re getting interrogated today. You didn’t forgot, didn’t you ?
Greer stayed silent. They had, in fact, forgot.
- Unbelievable, sighed Olive. Did you know skipping interrogations like that is illegal ?
- It’s not like I do it on purpose, I just, forgot ! ah, I’m not in trouble, am I ?
- To be honest, if I wasn’t the inspector in charge of this case, you’d be in trouble. But, added Olive, next time you get yourself in a murder case, I probably won’t be there to call you personally and remind you to get your ass here for an interview.
-Ha-ha. So funny. We’re talking about my friend, for the record.
-Hm, you’re right, sorry. »
Olive tidied the photos of the crime he let in a mess on the desk to put them back in the file. He took his time to put them in a drawer he locked with a key. Olive had clearly explained to Greer that he didn’t want them to see the most shocking pictures. He pretexted civilians shouldn’t see such things, but it really was just because he didn’t want to trigger his friend’s memory of the murder he witnessed.
ns 15.158.61.5da2
