Page 52 of Demo
“Story or personal life?”
“Story.”
“Big, holy shit news, or mundane police activity?” Knox knows how to navigate conversations around work intel that is confidential, off the record, or otherwise shouldn’t be discussed.
“Oh, a little of both, I guess.”
“Something you’re currently working on?”
“Um, no,” I look down at my hands around my mug and try to focus on the leaf-shaped foam that is now seeping out into a big blob.
“So, what does it matter if it’s in the past? Is it a high-profile case?” Knox takes a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah. It is still getting some attention actually.”
I see Knox mull that over. His Adam’s apple bobs while he swallows a gulp of coffee. Before he can ask me another question, I decide to give him a little more.
“I think I messed up a story. But other times I’m certain I didn’t. Anyway, I’ve been circling back around to some sources, trying to get answers, and Chief Scott apparently doesn’t like that.”
“Why do you say that?”
“That the chief doesn’t like me poking around? Well, he pretty much threatened me today, so—”
“What?” Knox’s reply is loud enough to cause a couple at a nearby table to look over at us. “What do you mean he threatened you?”
We stare at each other, heat creeping up my throat. “Don’t do that. You don’t get to go all protective of me. Not right now.”
Knox runs the hand not holding his coffee over his stubbled chin.
Despite my scolding him, I decide to answer his question. “He tried to offer me a distraction, a lead to another story, in exchange for dropping my current ‘investigation.’” I use one hand to make air quotes for my last word.
Knox takes another sip of coffee and then shakes his head slightly while shifting his body, so his elbows are resting on knees. “I really hate that guy.”
“Right now, so do I.”
“Let me ask you,” Knox begins, and I turn my head toward him, watching him re-adjust his position in the bean bag chair. “Why do you think you fucked up?”
“The story?”
“Yeah. Because, Lizzie, I might not know exactly which story you’re talking about, but I would be willing to bet you didn’t mess it up. You’re really good at what you do.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s the truth. So, what gives?”
I take another sip and continue to look down at my drink. “I was distracted when the story broke. We were wrapped up in personal stuff, and I wasn’t in a good headspace.”
I notice Knox still, then. “The Jerome King case?” He isn’t looking up at me.
“Yep.”
“That was right about when …”
“Yep.”
“Awe, shit, Lizzie. I’m sorry. I’m … I don’t know what to say.”
“Not your fault.” I manage to get out.
