"No," she said, growing quiet for a moment. "But it's the quantum enigma. Observing particles changes how they behave. Like wave-particle duality. What if I've been a wave for all of my life, then you come along and turn me into a particle?"
"Double-Slit Experiment, right?"
"Yeah. What if it's like that?"
"It's scientific, isn't it?" I smiled when I asked a question I knew she could answer.
"Yes."
"We're made up of subatomic particles put together in all sorts of ways. Who's to say we're not a wave-particle duality as well? Quantumly entangled, too."
"Why do you know so much about physics?" she asked, her lips twitching as if threatening a smile.
"I've had a good teacher. Who I've also enjoyed getting to know." The confession left me in a flush of truth.
The referee blew the whistle and we broke apart. Mira smiled at me from over her shoulder as she returned to the field. It warmed my cold insides, giving me a fragment of hope that we'd recover from the shock to our existence. I couldn't be sure yet, but a smile offered a start.
Chapter Nine
The following morning, I spent time with Eleanor before work, explaining the situation to her and reconciling her fear that I was angry with her. Robert joined us at the breakfast table, but he could hardly keep his eyes open long enough to contribute.
At work that week, I remained distracted, and opted to hang back at the precinct to file all the reports. Angelina and Sorensen made off for the field, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Mira and I decided to make an effort to return to our regular routines in hope of processing our feelings. Leaving her at her place, tear-stained and sad, broke my heart, but I honored our agreement. For now.
Can you get me from Mermaid? It's raining, texted Eleanor at around six-thirty.
It's Seattle, boo. Rain is always, but yes. Leaving work now.
Woot.
What's woot?
It means yay. Finn says it.
Well then.
Woot.
The Mermaid Salon welcomed me like a cozy hug. Not just the nautical environment and sexy mermaids, but all the women who nearly squealed my name when I walked in.
"Billie!" shouted Cin which drew Jordan's attention. As the owner and one of my oldest contacts in Seattle, she bounced over to me, tossing her arms around my neck.
"Look at you all babe-like," she said after smooching my cheek. "How are you?"
"Trucking along. How are you? Taking care of my little sis?" I released her from our embrace and she grabbed my hand, tugging me down the row of filled salon chairs. I kissed Cin's cheek, then returned Grace's one-armed hug as I greeted them on the way.
"I'm amazing as always. And I love your sis. She has purple hair now, bee tee dubs."
"Bee tee what?"
"Never mind." Jordan waved me off. "She's finishing up the laundry with Finn." She led me to the vacant portion of the salon where she usually painted and dyed hair. I slid onto one of the empty stools and she sat across from me.
"I see you looking at my hair. You just did it three weeks ago. Relax."
"Those roots though…" She let out a dramatic sigh.
"I don't have any roots." I laughed at her. "Wipe that look off your face. You're gonna have to wait until my next appointment." Jordan's caretaking often involved involuntary haircuts, dye jobs, or general beauty fussing. It was always her way of showing love and concern.
"Fine, bully." She grumbled at me and flailed her arms.
"How's Ainsley?" I chuckled at her theatrics.
"Really good. She's upstairs after a long week of cutting, she said. Whatever that means."
"Monday we had some gang-related homicides, then some other suspicious cases so it's probably my fault." I smirked, shrugging. "Sorry, girl."
"No complaints because she's off for a bit now."
I heard the jingle of the front door over our chatting, and a round of happy greetings followed. I listened for familiar voices but didn't pick up on any.
Jordan and I chatted about Eleanor's work at the salon and her interest in learning how to color hair.
"Permission granted, Jordy. Teach her whatever she wants. She's got eighteen years of sheltered life to make up for," I said.
"Done."
"Jordan, Willa's here," called Grace.
"Send her back." Jordan slid from her chair to hug me again. "Duty calls, love."
"Always. I'll go fetch my kin from her employment." I returned her embrace then stepped away right before a woman clad in cowboy boots and a pink flannel shirt entered. Her pretty face and kind smile appeared familiar, but I couldn't place her.
I shifted around the corner, not expecting someone to be following her, and nearly collided with a mane of brunette. My sidearm clashed into hers and our belts caught for a second.
"Whoa. Sorry." My eyes widened and I checked my weapon to secure it.
"Watch where you're going, Olsen. Seriously." The raspy croon drew my attention to her face, and there stood Dax Stocker. Beautiful, strong, and way more feminine than I remembered with her hair down in long layers. The rest of her remained the same, right down to her motorcycle boots.
"Oh my God." In my vulnerable state that I managed to keep a handle on for the visit with Jordan, I choked on the emotions that tightened my throat. "Dax, hi."
"Hey," was all she said, her tell-tale smirk ever-present.
I stammered, blinking away the tears that managed to form. "It's been a long time."
"It has." Her brow wrinkled with concern. "Don't cry, Beej. Come meet Willa." She grabbed my elbow, as if no time had passed at all, and urged me back toward Jordan.
"I'm sorry." I wiped my eyes and stumbled over my own feet.
"What's going on, honey?" The woman with Jordan addressed Dax while Jordan prepared her color supplies.
"We used to work together," Dax said, releasing me as she came to stand beside Willa. Even while seated, Willa snaked her arm around Dax's middle. "Billie Jean Olsen."
"From the pictures at Wildrose." Willa perked up, her expression brightening as if she knew me. "Nice to meet you."
"You, too. Since Dax has terrible manners, I'm going to assume that you're her girlfriend," I said, still overwhelmed by the notion of seeing Dax again. After what happened to her, and finding her there…
"Correct assumption." Willa gave Dax a squeeze and she leaned her hip against her chair.
When Dax left for Sequim, she refused to talk to me, ignored my texts and calls. It didn't stop me from sending her birthday and Christmas cards every year though, and occasionally shooting her a text. She never answered, but I would assume she saw it.
"You look happy, Dax," I said, watching the two of them. "You're cute together."
"Aren't they?" added Jordan as she wrapped a smock around Willa. Dax stared at me with her face frozen save for the half smile that tugged up her cheek.
"Yes." I glanced from her to Willa. "They are."
"Go talk with your friend, honey." Willa gave Dax's hip a pat. "I'm not going anywhere for a while." Dax gave her a tentative look, but Willa's encouraging smile seemed to unlock her.
"Don't worry, Will. These two never hooked up. Totally chart-free." Jordan snickered as she gripped Dax's shoulder. Dax shot her a glare but it only made Jordan laugh more.
"I'm not worried about that." Willa cocked a brow at Jordan and the challenge made both Dax and I laugh.
"You want to talk to me, Olsen?" Dax asked, crossing her arms as she boxed her feet. She appeared about ready to take me down.
"Not if you're going to shoot me or something." I held my hands up in surrender.
"Go on. Five minutes won't kill you." Jordan shooed us and I led the way back toward the main part of the salon and the empty sofa that leaned against the wall that separated the two parts.
Dax slid her hands into the pockets of her bomber jacket, hesitating before joining me, perching herself on the arm of the far end of the couch. I watched h
er for a moment, not quite knowing where to start.
"It's good to see you. And Willa seems really nice," I said, because it seemed socially appropriate.
"You mostly look good except your puffed-up eyes from crying. What gives?"
"Gee, don't skip a beat, do you?" I smirked, shaking my head. "It made me happy to see you so I had an emotion. Deal with it." We were right back at it. Our old banter, and jabs.
Her raspy laugh made me chuckle and she shook her head. "You're a detective now."
"You're a marshal."
"We got older."
"Yeah, and thinner." I gestured to her. "Are you a cross-fitter or something? Shit."
"No." She laughed, a cocky grin following. "Farmer. You?"
"A lot of gym time. A lot of worrying."
"Siblings?"
"Yeah. But I have them both now here in Seattle. They're doing good. Eleanor is here somewhere with purple hair, allegedly," I said, glancing down the line of salon chairs, but didn't see her yet.
"You're a good sister." She nodded in my direction, then turned to prop her feet on the sofa.
"I try. How long have you been with Willa?"
"A few years." Now she smiled, a full, real smile as she gazed behind me in the direction of her girlfriend.
"Look at you all in love."
"Yeah. I am." She narrowed her eyes at me. "But shut up about it."
I laughed at her and swatted the back of the sofa. "Nope."
Our conversation lulled, which wasn't always Dax's style. She'd changed in some ways. She didn't command the room with her silliness, or run circles around her peers. Instead, she seemed more focused, mindful even.
"Come out to the farm sometime. Pumpkins. Horses." She lifted her shoulders in a light shrug.
"I'd like that." I sucked in my breath to hold on to the surge of emotions that accompanied her sentiment. "I've missed you. It's been years…"
"I know." She stared over my shoulder, her expression softening. "I got your cards."
"You were my closest friend. I'm not going to just forget about you."
Her sharp gaze returned to mine. "They meant a lot."
"Did they?"
She nodded, digging her hands further into her pockets. "You were the only one who bothered."
"I feel like there's more we should say, but not here," I told her while holding her gaze. "I'm going to keep sending cards."
"Okay." I'm not sure what she agreed to, the longer talk or the cards, but I let it be. "Come to the farm."
"I will. I'm really happy to have run into you, Dax. I mean it."
"I'm glad, too," she admitted, her voice soft. "Willa helped me."
"I can see this. Also, answer my texts sometime, jerk. I know you read them," I said on the tails of a chuckle.
"Merry Christmas to you, too. There. I answered." Dax smirked, letting out a small snicker.
"Oh my God. I hate you and love you at the same time." I cracked up, hopping up from my seat and grabbing her in a hug. She tensed right away, though she patted my back after.
We chatted for a while longer, until her girlfriend appeared with her hair treated. The way they embraced, with Dax so comfortable in her arms, and the two of them making eyes at each other, left me smiling. I worried for Dax, and talking about her hurt sometimes. To know she was okay, that she survived and even thrived, made me happy.
Eleanor appeared a few minutes later carrying giant loads of towels with a red-headed teenager on her heels. They chatted endlessly and I watched as they stored the towels in various cubbies.
"Well hi to you, too," I called out when Ellie walked right past me. "I've been on this sofa for an hour."
Dax smirked, watching the interaction between the two of us while she lounged beside me. Jordan worked on Willa's hair in the chair a few paces away.
"Hi, Beej." Ellie turned, laughing with it. "Sorry. This is Finn."
"Hi, Finn. I've heard lots about you," I told her. She stood a head shorter than Eleanor, but with an athletic build and wearing some type of workout gear, she appeared ready for a fitness challenge. Her flaming red hair reminded me of Ciara, and she was equally as pretty.
"You, too. I'm glad you kidnapped her." Finn tossed her arm around Eleanor's shoulder. "Otherwise I wouldn't have a bestie."
Eleanor laughed and gave her a playful elbow to the stomach. "Would so. Olivia is your bestie."
"I can have two besties!" Finn broke into a giggle fit when Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Speaking of, I have class. See you tomorrow."
"Bye." They released each other, and we waved as she bolted out the side door. "Ready, Beej?"
"Sure am. Ellie, this is my friend Dax." I gestured to Dax. "Dax, Eleanor."
"Hi." Eleanor waved and her sweet smile brought a sense of pride to our encounter.
"Hey." Dax smirked, leaning back on her elbows. "Clone."
"She is not." I shoved Dax's arm as I stood. "Our hair isn't even the same."
"This is true." Eleanor laughed and hugged me like she hadn't seen me in a week. "Can we get Taco Bell for dinner?"
"You wanted me to pick you up just for that, didn't you?" I rubbed her back and she nodded, her grin wide.
"Guilty. C'mon." She tugged my arm. "Nice to meet you, Dax. Bye, Jordy!"
"Bye, kiddo. See you tomorrow," Jordan called back.
"Talk soon, Dax?" I pointed at her and she nodded. "Nice to meet you, Willa."
"You, too, Billie. Take care." Willa smiled as she bid us farewell.
To say I didn't expect to run into Dax, literally, was an understatement. It made my heart glue a few pieces of itself back together.
As promised, Eleanor and I indulged in heaps of tacos, both in the car and when we got home. Like good sisters, we ordered extra junk food for Robert who would eat it no matter when he got home.
Eleanor and I ended the night snuggled on the sofa. For the first time all week, I fell asleep with less restlessness, but not before sending Mira a goodnight text.
The next morning, I sat at my desk alone, checking emails while everyone else slowly rolled in for their shift. Angelina showed up around eight, setting down a cup of coffee beside me, then hopping up to sit on my desk.
"So, you told her how you felt and it sent her running, right?" she asked, a cocky smirk on her lips.
"No. I didn't. Who said that?"
"Eve. You know she can't not tell me things."
"I know, but she doesn't get it. I tried to talk to her and Ciara. They didn't understand what I was saying." I waved her off then lifted the hot cup from the desk. "Thanks for this."
"What do you mean they didn't get it?"
"They just didn't, Angie. I don't want to talk about this now."
Moreno waltzed in with Stiles and Walsh, the three of them grumble-talking as always. As soon as Moreno saw me, he assaulted me. Verbally.
"Olsen," he said, stopping in his tracks. "Gym." He pointed down the hall.
"What? Why?"
"You haven't been there in two weeks, we nearly got our heads blown off, and your personality is shittier than a turd. Go to the gym." He frowned at me though his cocked brow made me smirk. Behind him, Stiles, the lead detective of the Sex Crimes Unit, laughed while he sat on a desk eating a bagel.
"Shittier than a turd, huh," I retorted.
"Extremely. Gym or I'll flush you." Moreno pointed. "All day."
"I'm very unpleased with the leadership here today." I sighed, and followed his pointed finger down the hall.
And just like that, after a change into a Seattle P.D. sports bra and leggings, I hit the treadmill first as a warm up. Some of the trainers hovered around me, and one of them stood beside me reading a clipboard. With his giant biceps and military tattoos, I knew he was coming for me.
"Thirty minutes on that, Olsen, then we hit the mat."
"Ugh. Not you, Cooper. I'm not in the mood for mental abuse."
"Tough shit. Moreno's call."
I lost all control over my life for the rest of the
day. Cooper ran me through cardio, lifting, Pilates, and eventually sparring after lunch. At around three, with my muscles fatigued, and reactive to emotional and physical stress, we fought a long spar, and I hit the mat at least thirty times. The gym began to fill up when other law enforcement agents appeared for their daily workouts, which broke some of my focus.
On my thirty-first trip to the mat, I lay there, panting as I attempted to catch my breath.
"This normally isn't so difficult for you, Olsen." Cooper crouched beside me, looming over me. "What's bothering you?"
"Right now? My ass cheek that you've sent to the mat ten times in a row."
"You know what I'm asking."
"Are you a therapist now, too? I'm fine."
"Moreno said if your stamina is down, I need to refer you to psych."
"C'mon." I smacked the mat as I sat up. "I'm fine. I have some things going on in my personal life. I'm dealing with it."
"Well, people are noticing." He swatted my shoulder. "Get up. We're going again."
And again, we did. Over and over, until my legs trembled, but I pushed through it enough to manage a takedown of Cooper at least once.
"Olsen," one of the other trainers yelled. "You got a visitor or some shit."
"A visitor?" I panted as Cooper offered me his hand, tugging me up to stand.
I grabbed my towel off the bench and wiped the sweat from my face and neck. Every inch of me burned with fatigue and overuse. Cooper walked with me toward the entrance of the gym where Angelina stood, her eyes wide with surprise. I opened my mouth to question her until I heard the click of slow, deliberate heels on the tiles. Behind her, clad in a three-piece navy-blue pantsuit, stood Mira. With her hair down long, classic red lipstick, and hands tucked in the pockets of her pants. I nearly died on the spot. Stoic, commanding. She was a force at times, and right now, was one of them.
"I come bearing gifts." Angelina gestured to Mira. "Who isn't allowed back here but insisted, and so here we are."
"You hired a lawyer? Harsh, Olsen." Cooper clapped me on the shoulder before heading off.
"Very funny." I sneered at him then drew my gaze back to Mira. "Hi."
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