The Devil's Due: A Cooper and McCall Scottish Crime Thriller by Ramsay Sinclair (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕

inspector’s most important task. I shut myself away in my private office, and the window allowed me to watch the gaggle of constables closely.

The office remained poky but a nice space to get away from everything. Furnished with regimented bookshelves rammed to bursting point from all sorts of folders and a desk which took up half the room, it wasn’t exactly tidy. Just an explosion of stuff. To be fair, a computer filled up half the desk space, leaving little room to store much else. My clock ticked solemnly.

As I settled down to arrange some files, a strange sensation hit me like a ton of bricks, sudden and without warning. Not that a warning would have been useful either. The room blurred near its edges whilst hazy lights split through my head. A sharp sensation stabbed and prodded too, causing an epiphany of pain.

What was that? An intense migraine or dehydration? We hadn’t had many drinks today. Last thing I remembered drinking was McCall’s hideous coffee.

Hunched over on the tabletop, all I could do was wait for that fleeting discomfort to disappear. Shaking, my hand brushed against a glass of water leftover from God knew when, but you shouldn’t closely examine small details at desperate times like that.

The fresh, if warm, liquid entered my system gratefully, and my body heaved a breath of relief. After a short pause, everything felt back to normal again. I cursed whatever occurred and put those symptoms down to a long day. Work and duty called, so I decided to ignore it all and dived into a world of gruesome tales, dull forms, and over spilling binders. Pausing every now and again, I’d spin on my swivel chair to get a fresh perspective of my surroundings.

From its corner, my personal evidence board caught some well-needed attention. I decided to redo the information, for there were maps and pieces leftover from a case solved last month, by the last DI. Each piece of paper ripped satisfyingly, leaving a couple of pins sticking out from the corkboard dangerously. I scribbled down what we knew so far. Kris Ellis, Sammy Davis. Crime scene location. That sort of thing.

Once some photographs of Gavin’s body had been sent over, they’d be joining this board too. Most of our constables had left, trickling out one by one. Leaving a quieter atmosphere in the office. Just how I enjoyed working. Sometimes, quietness was necessary to think thoroughly. Stretching and extending my arms in discomfort, something different caught my attention.

McCall and DC Taylor drinking together. Could be tea, but who knew with McCall? She perched on his desk, chatting, her auburn hair startling bright compared to DC Taylor's mundane appearance. They laughed at something. But who made who laugh?

Squinting, I tried to work out what they had seen. Nothing. They were just laughing.

Huh.

Crap. McCall caught me staring. Deflecting any unwanted attention, I viewed the office in intense detail, acting as though I wasn’t sniffed out mid-stare. But then they both stood up, exchanging farewells. McCall pointed directly to my office, and DC Taylor grinned, waving goodbye. What’s that supposed to mean? Did he know I was staring, or was he being polite?

Waving wasn’t really my thing. Instead, I nodded once with tight lips, awkwardly as usual. I preferred the lone wolf type attack. That way, no one knew you well enough to understand how you’re thinking or feeling. DC Taylor swung a rugged satchel over one shoulder, energetically pacing away.

McCall, on the other hand, headed straight towards my office. Rapping on the window pane sharply.

“I’m busy,” I called out tensely.

“Not too busy to stare though, are we?” she retorted and pushed through anyway, completely ignoring my previous wishes. McCall’s glittering blue eyes burned a hole in my cheek, making me paranoid that something stuck to it. I brushed my cheek to double-check. Nothing.

“Making sure you both stuck to the task at hand, that’s all. I don’t think the best time to start flirting is during a homicide case, do you?” I chastised, viewing McCall’s expression of amusement change. Those smiling, ruby lips automatically changed to pouted ones.

“I wasn’t flirting!” Her head shook in disagreement, hands settling upon her petite hips. For such a small woman, McCall sure was frightening.

“You may not have been, but DC Taylor sure was,” I quipped, typing random gibberish on my keyboard in hopes of distracting this pending confrontation. It wasn’t supposed to sound harsh, but I guess I hadn’t gotten the hang of ‘joking’ yet.

“Not that it’s anyone’s business, but he is funny. And smart. That doesn’t mean I fancy DC Taylor. It means that I value a member of our team, which is more than you can bring yourself to do.” McCall appeared to be in disbelief at my evasive actions.

I couldn’t help it. Whenever I tried to avoid speaking, my big mouth had other ideas. “Whatever you say.” I bit my tongue and received a slight pinch. Wheesht, won’t you? This was worse than prodding bears with sticks.

“You may be my superior, but you’re not my father, although you two would probably get on. We were after-hours. Therefore, I can do whatever I decide.” McCall paused for breath, allowing me to glance at the clock. In all fairness, they were after hours. Blimey. How time flies.

“I actually stayed behind to offer you a lift home.”

My mistake. We made stubborn eye contact, neither one admitting our faults. Well, I was wrong, but McCall would never hear those words from me.

“Forget it.”

McCall left. Her shoes squeaked away. I stayed put momentarily, starting to retype half of the nonsensical information I wrote whilst McCall was here, but nothing allowed me to concentrate. Now, our office felt too silent, our clock ticked too loud, and being on my own felt… fine.

Giving in, at last, I logged out and grabbed a random coat from a hook hanging nearby. There may have been a small chance to catch up to McCall before she drove home. Echoing sounds emitted from the stairwell I