Nocere

by Max Ellendale

  "You make me nervous," I blurted out.

  "How come?"

  "Because of what you said to me." I glanced at her.

  "That you're cute?" She smiled and tilted her head to the side.

  "Yeah," I said, gulping down the dry sensation in my mouth. I gripped my cup so tight that the lid popped right off and a splash of hot liquid hit the back of my hand. A gasp left me and I yanked my hand away as the snap of a brief burn lashed across my skin.

  Samirah swept over to me, cupping my hands in hers with a slew of napkins. "Easy, let me see."

  I choked on a sob, one born of embarrassment coupled with the lingering sting. My hands trembled as she wiped off my arm and sleeve, her eyes scanning my hand. "You're okay, Rose. A little welt, that's all."

  I nodded as she turned my hand over to continue inspecting me. When she released me, her hand fell to the top of my head, holding me close to her while she piled some napkins on the small spill beside my cup. She fixed the lid, and then crouched in front of me, taking both of my hands in hers.

  "All good?"

  I cleared my throat, nodding as I looked down at my barely-blemished hand. "I'm sorry."

  "There's nothing to apologize for. It scared you. Luckily, lattes aren't as hot as other drinks," she said, a soft smile parting her maroon-painted lips. Her thumbs stroked the insides of my wrists, and under the gesture, I nearly melted in my chair. Warm, soothing tingles ran up my arms and over my shoulders, as if she captured me in an embrace.

  "I messed this up, too. First the hike, now coffee," I said, surrendering to the notion that I'd bumbled up everything so far.

  "Nerves will make things less smooth, I'll admit, but you're at no fault. Okay?"

  I nodded and glanced at her. "Thanks. I'm just… I'm not good at this. Talking to women—or anyone really."

  She chuckled softly and gave my hands a squeeze. "Who needs to talk when spilled coffee brings me this close to you?"

  My cheeks heated to a flush and my gaze shot to hers. "Why do you like me?"

  "Because you're beautiful and shy. And you have no idea how cute your smile is. Do I need any other reason right now?" she said, leaning back on her heels while she held my gaze.

  "I guess not. We haven't known each other long..."

  "Do you like me?"

  "You make me really nervous, so probably," I said through a smirk.

  She laughed, releasing my hands as she stood to return to her seat. "That's a start."

  "Other than those superficial things, why do you care? There are plenty of pretty and shy women out there," I said and finally took a sip of what was left of my drink.

  "Because I watched how you were with Luna. The way you played with her and interacted with her. Your quick snaps of humor every now and then. The way you allowed Jordan to cut your hair in the middle of the backyard. To me, you seem like a good person and I really enjoy getting to know good people. It's how I became friends with Stella and Alice. They're good people," she explained, then took a sip of her drink.

  "Fair enough."

  "So, if I ask you on a real date, what would you say?" Her smile, playful and cautious, broadened at the notion.

  I toyed with a napkin on the table while contemplating her question. "At a restaurant or something?"

  "Not necessarily. It could be whatever you wanted."

  "Anything?" I tied the napkin in a knot then plucked at the fringes.

  "Anything you wanted," she said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. Both of her hands came to wrap around mine to stop the nervous fidgeting. "Tell me what you would want if we went on a date."

  She held my gaze, and I searched her expression for any hint of something nefarious. Was she really asking me this? Why was she so interested in me?

  "Maybe...just something private. And simple. Like pizza or Tai. Watching a movie. I'm not sure."

  "Rose, would you like to come to my place for takeout and drinks tomorrow night?" Samirah tilted her head, her smile soft and unassuming.

  I bit my bottom lip and nodded. "Yes."

  Her eyes brightened and she brushed her thumb over my knuckles before releasing me. "Great. I'll text you my address. How's that?"

  "Good." I watched her as she sipped her coffee, her eyes nearly twinkling with mischief as she gazed back at me. "You look at me funny."

  "Because you're cute. Remember?"

  I laughed, shaking my head at her. "You're something else, Samirah. Did you know?"

  "Yes," she said, chuckling as she stood. "Tomorrow, we'll know each other better."

  "Tomorrow it is." I rose with her, both of us lifting our purses and drinks. "Thanks for the coffee."

  "Any time." Samirah's hand fell to the small of my back as we walked out together. She turned to me on the sidewalk, her free arm held out to me. "Can I hug you?"

  "Sure." I smiled as we embraced as our parting gesture. "See you tomorrow."

  ***

  "Stiles, you need to come see me as soon as you can," I told Detective Stiles on the phone the next day.

  "What've you got, Rose?"

  "Just get back here." I hung up the phone and continued pushing red pins in the map of Seattle and the surrounding areas that I stuck to the wall. I stood on a chair, poking the last pin near the harbor.

  "Rosie," Ainsley called out behind me and I nearly lost my footing.

  "Christ, Ainsley. You could've warned me." I gripped my chest and turned around to face her. "Shit."

  "I'm sorry." She let out a soft giggle before gesturing around the room with one hand held behind her back. "Did a file cabinet explode in here?"

  "No." I pointed to the map behind me before jumping down. "Working on a case."

  "Take a break for lunch with me?" she asked, her brows lifting toward her bangs.

  "I can't. Stiles is on his way to see what I've found."

  "He's not here yet and I brought food." She pulled her arm out from behind her back to reveal a hefty brown paper bag. "So... lunch?"

  My stomach grumbled as if it heard her beckon. "Okay."

  "Thought you might agree," she chirped, bouncing on her tiptoes before joining me at my desk which was the only spot not covered in a spread of files.

  I sat in my chair and Ainsley pulled up a second to sit adjacent to me. She opened the bag and to reveal deli sandwiches, chips, and iced tea.

  "Roast beef?" she asked and I nodded. "You're easy to please."

  "I eat everything so that makes it easy." I unwrapped the sandwich and took an oversized bite.

  "I'm happy you called me, Rosie. I'm sorry things went sour." Ainsley's words gushed in her usual way.

  "It was me overreacting. For the most part," I told her, while ravenously devouring the sandwich. The introduction of food into my stomach made me realize I hadn't eaten since yesterday. Between coffee with Samirah, Alex on my sofa, and my case discovery, I hadn't stopped to think about anything else.

  "We can understand it might've felt like we were in on some sort of romantic coup," she said, smiling at me from around her bite of chips. "But I hear you have a date."

  "Going to Samirah's tonight."

  "She lives close to Stella and Alice. Same complex."

  "She texted me her address."

  "So…are your bits all shaved and ready to go?" Ainsley snickered and I nearly choked on my food.

  "Ainsley! No."

  "C'mon. You can't tell me you wouldn't dive between her legs if the opportunity came up." She dropped her elbows on the desk with a harsh clunk. "Am I right?"

  "You're making me uncomfortable." I huffed when my cheeks heated and I knew it meant I'd turned beet-red.

  "I make everyone uncomfortable." She shrugged through her laughter. "Except Jordan, which is probably why we're together."

  "Incorrigible." I smirked, and helped myself to some chips.

  "Jordan said Alex is staying with you." Ainsley cocked a brow at me. "What's that about?"

  "Her roommate is a jerk. She's looking for a
new place."

  "Are you sure that's all?"

  "Yes, Ainsley. Alex and I are like sisters."

  "Gross. Incest." Ainsley made a gag face and I gave her chair a kick.

  "C'mon. Quit it."

  She snickered and patted my hand. "Okay. Back to Samirah then."

  "How well do you know her?" I asked, glancing from my lunch to her.

  "Conveniently. When she's in town, we'll share a meal. Her friendship with Stella over the past few years has brought us closer. She lived about an hour away so only when she is at U.W. did we see her. A few times a year."

  "But she's there more now?"

  Ainsley nodded. "Apparently took a position with a new company that works largely with U.W. and affiliates."

  "What else do you know about her?"

  "She's strong-willed, tenacious. A good doctor. And that she likes you," she said, crossing her legs as she leaned back in her chair with the final bite of sandwich between her fingers.

  "I don't understand why. She doesn't know me at all."

  "She knows you enough. You shared a meal with her, then several hours on the hike. She's seen more of you than you realize, Rosie." Ainsley reached forward and placed her hand on top of mine. "You're sweet and kind. Not to mention beautiful and tiny like a little fairy." She grinned when she said that. "Or so I hear."

  "Oh, stop that. You're the same height."

  "Maybe so, but I'm not a fairy."

  "No. You're a nudge." I scoffed at her and she laughed.

  A knock sounded on my door before Stiles appeared, his brows raised so high that they nearly touched his bald head. Behind him, Eve Grant yawned her way into the office. She smirked at Ainsley before offering her an awkward wave.

  "Hi, Evie. Ben. What's shakin'?" said Ainsley as she rose from her seat.

  "My presence has never been demanded by an analyst before," said Stiles, his brow narrowing when he saw the map on the wall and the piles of paper. "What's going on?"

  I stood from behind my desk, and joined them by the map. "I've been working on this all week."

  "I can tell," said Stiles, then glanced to Ainsley. "You staying for this, Doc, or what?"

  "I'm already here. Might as well." Ainsley hopped up to sit on the desk and Eve mimicked her posture like the two of them enjoyed a show.

  "There's an over-abundance of lesbians in my immediate proximity," said Stiles, folding his arms over his chest. "Feels like home."

  Ainsley and Eve laughed, but I didn't understand the reference.

  "I've gone through your files over the last three years and found a pattern of sexual assaults."

  "Go on," urged, Stiles, gesturing to the map.

  I climbed onto the chair and pointed to the first pin at the top of the map. "Three years ago. White female, twenties, raped in the middle of the day. She was on her lunch break from work and it happened in the parking lot of an office building. This was the first."

  "Okay. I remember that one," said Stiles. "She called emergency services from the lot."

  "The next one." I pointed to the second pin. "Similar time of day. White female, early-thirties, assaulted in the middle of the day while waiting for the bus. No one saw."

  "That one I remember," Eve piped up. "She told the bus driver. Described the suspect as a six-foot-tall white guy in a baseball cap. Unremarkable description."

  "Right, but they both said he smelled strongly of coconut or sunscreen. All of them said the same thing. The women were close in age, but the victim's race differs. Started out as white females, then became black women, and a few Hispanic women. Age stayed the same, body type as well. All of them wore blue skirts or dresses at the time of the assault. All of them in the middle of the day. All of them had bruises on their neck." I turned around to face them, and both detectives wore similar expressions—frozen, hinted with mitigated horror. Ainsley covered her mouth as her eyes searched the map.

  "How many total, Rose?" asked Eve.

  "Fourteen. Each assault occurred about ten or eleven weeks apart. They take place all over Seattle. I compared all the files from the sex crimes unit, plus independent reports that never made it to your unit. Imported documents from all precincts in the entire city. This is what I've found. I'm reticent to say we should expand state-wide. I'm worried about what we'll find." I stepped down from the chair, and glanced between them. "Other than this serial rapist that I've already uncovered."

  "Shit, Bryant." Stiles folded his hands behind his head as he paced in a circle. "Write up this report. Send it to Walsh."

  "Already did." I snatched the printed copy off the desk and handed it to him. "And my requisition for state-wide access."

  Eve slid from her seat, glancing to Stiles. "We need to go back further in time. Rerun the metrics. Five years. Ten."

  "I will." I pursed my lips as their heavy emotions slammed down on me. Ainsley came to stand beside me with her arm around my shoulders. "Get them to give me clearance."

  "On it." Stiles nodded to the door, and Eve followed him. "Good work, Bryant."

  "Keep this to yourself for now, Rose," said Eve before they exited my office.

  I turned to Ainsley and she offered me a sad smile while gripping my shoulders. I nodded to her and she bumped her forehead against mine. The gesture brought a small smile to my lips.

  "What's this like for you? Looking at all these cases?" she asked with caution.

  "I don't think about it. I can't."

  "Yeah. I get that."

  "Cutting up bodies isn't much different, I guess."

  "It's different, Rosie. It's less personal," she said, and I nodded.

  "I need to get back to work and rerun those metrics," I said, stepping away from her to return to my computer.

  "Okay." Ainsley watched me, and dropped back into the seat near the desk. "I've got nowhere to be yet."

  "The luxury."

  "Very much so." She leaned her elbow on the desk and I glanced at her.

  "Why are you really staying?"

  "Support. Deal with it."

  I smirked, returning my attention back to the screen. "Thanks."

  ***

  Samirah's condo, in a much fancier part of the city than where I lived, offered an almost intimidating atmosphere. Dark wood walls, with gorgeous shiny onyx floors, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the bay had me nearly fainting at the sight of it. It must've been a million-dollar home at least. Unpacked boxes filled the hallway by the stairs that I assumed led to the bedrooms. Samirah's living room, with a plush carpet in front of the fireplace, seemed to be the only area set up completely. Her kitchen sported small totes on the bar counter, and her kitchen table held a lot of unwrapped knickknacks.

  "Your home is beautiful, Samirah," I said, awestruck and riddled with nerves. Living like this, how could I ever invite her to my tiny space?

  I half-expected Samirah to wear a fancy dress or something equally extravagant to her home, but in her casual jeans, and worn out sweatshirt, she appeared as normal as anyone. My decision to adorn leggings and a sweater dress made me feel almost overdressed in comparison.

  "It's a little over the top, but I really liked the views. The balcony is my favorite, second only to the jacuzzi tub in the bathroom upstairs," she said, her hand falling to the small of my back as she led me to the sitting area. "Can I get you some wine?"

  "Sure." I continued to stare at the structure of her place, closing my mouth when I noticed my jaw fall slack.

  "Any preference?"

  "Nope."

  She chuckled, her socks sliding on the floor as she gestured to the sofa. "Okay. Dinner should be here soon. I went with Tai. Sound okay?"

  "Definitely." I sat down, leaning my purse on the floor by my feet.

  Samirah returned with two glasses of white wine and handed me one before joining me on the sofa. "Sorry about all the boxes. Literally moved in the day I texted you."

  "It's lovely here regardless," I said, and sipped my wine. "Thanks for this."

/>   "Welcome. You look very pretty, Rose. If you don't mind me saying so."

  "Thanks. You always look pretty. Without even trying." The words tumbled from my lips without much thought.

  "It's my eyebrows. They're thick and dark. Makes me look like I put effort into how I look," she said, her face deadpan and it made me laugh.

  "C'mon. You can't blame everything on your eyebrows."

  A grin parted her lips when she chuckled. "It's the effort that counts."

  "Hardly."

  The doorbell rang and Samirah set her glass down to scuttle over to answer it. She returned a moment later with the takeout bags, and joined me in the living room.

  "We're going totally casual and eating around the coffee table with paper products. I hope that doesn't make me appear gauche," she said, unpacking all the containers.

  "Not at all. It's better than some fancy pressure-filled formal thing. Makes me nervous." I helped her set out the containers while she scurried off for the dishes and utensils, all in paper and plastic category.

  In barely a heartbeat, we sat together and shared our first meal alone. Samirah spoke about what made her move out here, similarly to Ainsley's disclosure, and my ease in her presence increased. Our conversation seemed less date-like and more normal.

  "Do you have family around here?" I asked her after she disclosed that living in Olympia and commuting made for a lonely existence.

  "My mom lives in a local retirement community, but that's all. My dad died a few years ago," she said, then took a bite of pad thai. "She returned to her Middle Eastern roots after he died. An Irish-Romani dad and a Middle Eastern mom made for an interesting combination growing up."

  Her disclosure brought a smirk to my lips. "That sounds unusual."

  "It was. Mom came to Canada in her teens and married my dad as a way to defy her parents. It worked for them, for the most part. Though they were both ultra conservative and critical."

  "Of you?"

  She nodded, crunching on a noodle. "I was married to a man in my twenties. We divorced after I came out to him. It was amicable. He was a doctor, too."

  "How old were you when you realized you were gay?"

  "Twenty-eight. We were married for about three years."