War Zones and Paradise

Chapter Fourteen, Part One - White Shores

I stared at the reserved young woman, seated on the couch across from me.

She was pretty, but her seriousness sharpened her features–which I had a feeling kept all but the boldest men at bay. Her sleek hair was pulled into a flawless ponytail, highlighting her best features–bright eyes and sculpted brows.

Her jeans, along with the leather jacket above her plain, button down shirt, spoke as many volumes as the badge she had greeted me with. Rachel Lee might not have been on duty, but she still had a job to do.

"Thank you, for inviting me in." Officer Lee's smile was polite, yet stern. "I appreciate your time."

"Fuck a warrant--amIright? Whatever we can do to help--Officer."

I smiled, backing my boyfriend's frosty offer with a weak smile.

Tyler slouched against the wall, arms folded as he glowered at the cop. He was rude and surly as ever, but at least he was calm. I was perched on the edge of the loveseat, sweating for him and me.

My thoughts ping-ponged, between the fire, and the gun.

I envisioned myself, sobbing behind bars--forced to become another girl's bitch for survival, holding her pocket and cornrolling her hair in exchange for protection and commissary...

Quit tapping your fucking foot, Aaliyah--look innocent! Shit-oh-shit! Why the fuck is she looking at me staring at me like that?

"Don't worry, you can relax. I'm only here because I'm looking for my sister, Erin."

Hoooooooooooooooly CRAP.

So that was what it felt like, dodging a bullet.

I had to stop myself from letting out a sigh of relief. Even Tyler was standing up straight.

"I'm sorry, Officer," I said, "but we don't know anyone named Erin."

"I had a feeling you'd say that..." With a strange smile, she reached inside the pocket of her jacket.

I half-expected her to pull out a pair of cuffs.

Or maybe a gun.

She stretched her hand across the coffee table. "And please--call me Rachel."

I hesitated, then leaned forward, accepting the photograph she offered.

Two sets of flawless, white-teeth smiles gleamed against blazing color. Each girl had her arms wrapped around the other, their cheeks pressed together as they embraced for infinity.

Beautiful.

I looked up from the photograph. I saw Rachel's pretty, carefully-arranged face, superimposed above the blankness of my mind.

I could not connect these pieces.

I wasn't ready to.

"This... is a picture of me," I said. "And Valentine."

"I don't know what she's told you, but the girl in that photograph is my sister. Her real name is Erin, and I need to find her... before the NYPD."

Tyler and I exchanged glances. He strode across the room, then seized the photograph. He scowled at the picture, then tossed it on the table.

"No offense, but this is kinda crazy." Tyler shook his head at Rachel, like it was her fault. "If you're a cop, why aren't you working with the force?"