Erin took a beat, then responded.
“During intake at county, the suspect underwent a standard medical screening that included a blood draw. The results have not come back yet. Due to the time delay between the incident and the screening, it is possible that any substances had already left his system.”
Jamie jotted something down. The other reporters finally found their footing and began asking about the victim. Erin answered each question with clinical precision, but her mind lingered on the first one.
She hadn’t expected to be surprised today.
After the briefing, the Medford chief cornered Erin for a debrief, but her focus was elsewhere. Her eyes kept drifting to Jamie, who was now laughing at something Tilly had said as they packed up gear. Erin made a split-second decision.
“Excuse me, sir. I need to introduce myself to one of the new reporters before they leave.” She didn’t wait for permission. “I’ll circle back when the tox results are in.”
The chief looked surprised, rightfully so. Erin never went out of her way to talk to the media after the mics were off.
She crossed the room quickly, calling out over the shuffle of bags and tripods.
“Garrison?”
Jamie turned. So did Tilly. The latter’s expression cooled instantly, slipping into something unreadable. Erin held Jamie’s gaze, extending a hand.
“Erin Calhoun. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”
“You can just call me Jamie,” she replied, her voice gentler than it had been at the podium.
Erin offered a firm handshake. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at any of these before.”
“J started a few weeks ago,” Tilly interjected before Jamie could answer. “She’s from Colorado.”
There was no warmth in their voice. They stepped slightly forward, standing just a little between the two women.
“Appreciate the intro,” Tilly added, already shifting their bag higher on their shoulder. “But we’re on a deadline, so we’ll catch you next time.”
Jamie gave a small shrug and a parting smile but followed Tilly’s lead. Erin watched them disappear through the door, her hands hanging at her sides.
Whatever she thought that exchange might be, it wasn’t that.
Erin walked briskly back to her office, heels echoing on the tile as she pressed the door closed behind her. Her fingers were already on the top button of her collar, tugging it loose. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a sterile glow, but it wasn’t the lighting that had her irritated. Not really.
She crossed to her desk and sank into the chair, letting her head fall backfor just a second. Jamie Garrison. That was the name. It shouldn’t have stuck, but it did. Sharp questions. Steady tone. That little smirk as she scribbled notes. Erin had given hundreds of briefings, and most reporters just parroted whatever made for good sound bites. But this one was digging, even if her question had felt premature.
Erin huffed. It wasn’t the questions. Not really.
Tilly’s look had been warning enough. Erin wasn’t blind or stupid. She hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but she also hadn’t expected that. The stiff posture, the arm halfway between them, the clipped words. She hadn’t seen Tilly in months, maybe more, and yet all that unspoken weight still sat between them like a second badge.
She shook her head, reaching for her laptop. She had a dozen emails to get through and a toxicology report to follow up on. But her fingers hovered just above the keys.
Jamie Garrison.
She’d need to remember that name.
Four
“Til, you didn’t have to brush her off like that. She was trying to be nice,” Jamie said with a sigh as she looked across the console. They were in the car now, heading back to the station. Tilly sighed, tightening their grip on the steering wheel.
“Trust me, Jamie, she wasn’t,” Tilly said, a tight line taking the place of their usual smile.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jamie continued to prod at a sore subject that Tilly wanted to drop.
“J, can you just trust me? She’s never nice, only when it benefits her.” Tilly sighed again, flipping the turn signal to merge onto the highway. Jamie nodded and leaned back in her seat.
