3 | Evergreen

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Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Barbara made her way down the hall towards the front door. Whoever was knocking on the other side was persistent and most likely, a salesman. Because who else would be knocking for at least two minutes straight if not someone desperate to sell her something?

Barbara turned the doorknob, already preparing to tell them she wasn't interested in whatever they were selling, when a head suddenly appeared between the gap in the door, grinning at her.

"Officer Bard!" Barbara startled back in her chair as the man forced his way inside. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm here to see you!" he exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Sorry I couldn't come sooner. Your dad has us working like a couple of dogs, especially with everything going on with the Wayne employees," he sighed, lifting his cap and running a hand through his short blond hair. "I thought with his new fiancee he'd want to be home more often. Hell, I know I sure would."

From behind her glasses, Barbara rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Yeah, I bet you would."

A sly look came over the officer's face. "Ahh, I take it you don't approve of the soon-to-be Mrs. Pamela Gordon?"

Barbara's frown only deepened at the title. "Ugh, don't call her that."

Officer Bard chuckled as he moved further into the house, examining the various plants in the living room. "Sure looks like she made herself comfortable. It looks like the damn Amazon in here." He pinched a fern leaf between his thumb and forefinger. "Speaking of Pamela, where is she anyway?"

Barbara raised an eyebrow and smirked at the young, red-blooded officer. "Oh, I see why you're really here. It's her you want to see."

Spinning around, Officer Bard opened his mouth to protest until he saw the teasing grin on Barbara's face. "For a second there, I thought you were serious. Maybe even jealous."

The smile on Barbara's face fell. Jealous? Jealous of what exactly?

"She's asleep." She gestured with her head towards one of the closed doors in the hall. "It's practically all she ever does during the day. It's like what? Nearly eleven and she's still asleep."

Officer Bard nodded. "Weird. But hey, maybe the lady needs her beauty sleep?"

Barbara gave another scoff, this one much louder than the first. "That's not the weirdest thing. You haven't seen her eat. And I mean that literally because I haven't seen her eat," she emphasized. "The other night, she made some ribs but didn't take one bite."

"Maybe she wasn't hungry." He shrugged. "What's weird about that?"

"She didn't eat last night either." Barbara's eyes glared into the officer's, pleading for him to understand. But as she expected, he didn't. He was too rational for that. Or so, he liked to claim.

"All right, so maybe she doesn't like to eat? A lot of women that look like her don't. They just keep themselves going on cigarettes and coke." He circled back towards the front door. "So are we just going to stand here and talk about Pamela, or are we going to go do something? My time's precious here, Babs."

Barbara reached for her coat off the rack and threw it over herself. "We're going to the library. I need to pick up an application."

Officer Bard perked up. "I know a good pizza joint near there where we can grab lunch." He followed Barbara into the kitchen. "It's an authentic Italian place. The family's actually from Italy—probably involved in the Mafia—but hey, the pizza's good." He shrugged, watching as she grabbed a pen and notepad off the fridge.

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