Chapter 4 The ice blue eyed guy
“God! That's horrifying,” Cassidy heard a woman who just walked exclaim, fear boldly written in her voice. “Are the police ever going to find him?”
Her gaze snapped towards the women… were they talking about the murder or was there some—
“The whole town knows about the murder earlier,” Arthur's voice cut through her thoughts. “This isn't the city, you know.”
Cassidy clenched her fists slightly. How are they supposed to find the killer when he probably already knows their next move before they act?
Arthur began refilling her cup again. “You haven't answered my question earlier.” he reminded her, pushing the already filled cup closer to her. “Would you still have gone?”
She gulped, the scene from earlier flashing through her mind. Would she have gone if she knew the sight would haunt her like this? She was a detective so obviously she would—
“Cass?” Arthur called, startling her as the cup slipped from her hand and spilled all over the counter.
“Sorry, I…” her voice trailed off. What the hell is wrong with her? Who's the detective here—her or him?
“Cass?” he called again, wiping the counter. “Is there—”
“Here's the bill, Mr. Arthur.” She interrupted, her voice firm as she pushed three dollar notes towards him. “Thanks for your time.”
She grabbed her jacket but just as she reached for the file, the hot coffee mug burned her hand causing the file to slip off her hand and slip into the floor.
“Oh my gosh!” she cursed under her breath, blowing air on her burnt hand.
“My apologies,” Arthur said, rounding the counter to take her hand. “I'll take you to the pharmacy,”
Cassidy's body stilled when she met his eyes and she could swear she saw something dark flash through it. She pulled her hand back quickly. “It's a minor accident. I won't bother you.”
Before Arthur could reply, she squatted on the floor and began picking up the scattered pictures and statements from the file.
“Let me help you—”
“No need,” Cassidy cut in sharply, standing up. This file held everything about the Arbiter and the last person she wanted to see it—was someone her gut feelings didn't trust. “This is confidential,”
Arthur flashed her a smile. “Of course I know. I'm just offering help, not stealing it.”
Cassidy returned the smile with a tight jaw. “Thanks but no
thanks. You should return to the counter.”
“I can't take you to the pharmacy and also can't help you,” he said, his gaze locked on hers. “Why? Do you think my kindness is an act?”
Cassidy's throat went dry but she didn't shift her gaze. She has seen plenty of his kind who suddenly love playing victims.
“I'm not obligated to accept your gestures.” she stated, squatting back on the floor. “Whether your kindness is an act or not, shouldn't be my concern?”
Arthur joined her on the floor before she could protest. “You're a detective. Isn't reading people the first thing you do?”
Her hand froze on a picture for a split second. “You seem so interested in the profession. Why don't you join and find out?” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm as she placed the picture on the file.
Arthur didn't reply and silence fell between them as they picked up the file's contents. Cassidy's hand moved too quickly as she didn't want him to see too much.
“Why do the victims always have the letter “M” engraved on their body?” He suddenly asked, his eyes darting across the five pictures before him.
Her hands moved, grabbing the pictures before she could think and he pointed out the areas where the letter M stood. They were not so big to be seen quickly and also not too small to be missed yet nobody had ever noticed it except… she lifted her face and came in contact with his innocent looking eyes which were surely hiding something.
She didn't know she was glaring at him coldly until she heard his voice ring out.
“Did I just offer you a tip only to get frozen as the reward?”
Cassidy straightened, shoving everything on the floor into her file quickly.
“I'm grateful for the tip. Let’s have dinner sometime.” she said, grabbing the barely arranged file and her jacket before disappearing into the building.
Arthur stared at her already gone figure longer than he should before returning to the counter, a smudge smirk on his lips.
It was until Cassidy got into her apartment and locked the door did she release the breath, she didn't know she had been holding.
The more she saw, listened and watched the man downstairs. The more she knew there was something obviously wrong. How can a simple coffeehouse owner see what she couldn't? Why did he have that scent from the murder scene on him?
Many whys and hows ran through her mind as she dumped the file on the couch before heading to her room to freshen up. The station has a lot to answer tomorrow.
The next morning, Cassidy didn't stop by the Coffeehouse for coffee whether she was scared to face him or she didn't just want to see him. She herself didn't even know the truth.
Luckily, her truck didn't act up and she was in the station within minutes. She killed the engine and quickly hurried to the front desk. Maybe today was her lucky day as she met only Jack at the desk.
“How're you doing, Cass?” he gushed, rushing towards her when he saw her.
Cassidy raised a brow, tilting her head slightly. “I'm completely fine, Jack. Do you—”
“Fine?” Jack repeated, his voice loud. “When will you stop pretending you're always fine? I heard what happened at the murder scene yesterday.”
Her mind flashed back to the scene she had almost forgotten… Wait, did she really forget it or was it because she had something else on her mind?
Jack mistook her silence for numbness. “I can talk to the chief inspector, you can quit—”
“I'm perfectly fine, Jack. That's exactly what I signed for when I chose the violent crimes unit.” She interrupted, smiling without her eyes. Truth be told, she was anything but fine. “I came here to ask you about someone?”
Jack's forehead creased as he helped her to a seat. “Someone?”
“Arthur Finch, the—”
“The ice blue eyed guy that owns The Scales Coffeehouse?” Jack completed, a smile dangling at the corner of his lips. “You investigated him too soon.”
