Page 17 of Outrun The Devil
She found herself watching his hands as he clenched and unclenched them, a sure sign of annoyance. Olivia wanted to prod him and see how he’d react if he’d snap at her, and if she could push just the right button to shove him off the edge.
But they continued in silence, the awkwardness between them growing with each passing moment. Olivia felt a knot of frustration building in her stomach. This was not how she had envisioned working on this case. Or any case for that matter.
As they pulled into the junkyard, Olivia took a deep breath, determined to put their differences aside and focus on the case. She turned to Nathan, ready to lay out their plan of attack, but he beat her to it, outlining his ideas in a calm, measured voice.
“He’ll respond better to me. Hell, everyone here will respond better to me, a familiar face, than they would you,” Steele pointed out.
Collins disagreed. She had always been good at getting information, some kind of allure that lead to people being open with her. But pick your battles wisely, she thought to herself.
“Fine, I’ll let you have this one, Steele.” She wasn’t sure she agreed with his plan but they needed to be on the same page. Being a united front was key when following up on a lead that could potentially supply them with a suspect.
With raised hands, she once again conceded to him. Was she keeping track of the battles she picked? Absolutely. And right now, she allowed him two points. Determined, she wouldn’t allow him a third any time soon.
Nathan Steele was only temporarily useful but eventually that usefulness would run its course. She would make sure of it like she had all the others that came before him.
After all, Detective Olivia Collins didn’t need or want a partner.
Olivia got out and made her way over to the building just past the towering stacks of metal junk rusting in the sun, and the sounds of clanging metal in the air.
“So, Collins, got any theories about this case?” Nathan asked, breaking the silence between them.
Olivia glanced at him briefly, her guarded expression softening just a fraction. “You're the rookie, Steele. I'm sure you've got plenty of theories to entertain us.”
Nathan chuckled, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. “Touché, Collins. But I'm all ears if you're willing to share some of that seasoned wisdom.”
“You’ll get my theory when we’ve gotten more evidence and facts.” And she left it at that.
Olivia scanned the area, taking in the scrapyard and its workers. It was a vast expanse of metal and broken-down cars – where abandoned dreams and discarded hopes are strewn. The pair made their way to the receptionist's office, a small hut nestled in between the towering stacks. Small in comparison to the scraps of metal that it was surrounded by.
“Afternoon, I’m Detective Steele and this is Detective Collins, we’d like to know if one of your employees is working today?” Nathan was polite, a stark contrast to the behavior he was exhibiting in the car prior.
Olivia showed the receptionist Liam's nametag. The receptionist hesitated, glancing over her shoulder as if checking to see if anyone was watching. She leaned in close and whispered that Liam was expected to start his shift soon.
“Thank you, we’ll wait for him over here,” Nathan gestured to the small waiting area.
As they waited, Olivia couldn't help but feel the tension between herself and Nathan. It was palpable, and the awkward silence between them was suffocating.
“Collins, mind if I ask you a few questions?” Nathan asked, cutting through the silence that Olivia was enjoying.
Olivia turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. She raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. “Shoot, Steele. But don't expect any juicy revelations.”
Nathan chuckled, appreciating her straightforwardness. “Fair enough. So, what led you to become a detective? Must be more than just catching the bad guys.”
Olivia's lips quirked into a half-smile, her guarded demeanor still intact. “Curiosity and a desire to make a difference. And you?”
Nathan shrugged a glimmer of determination in his eyes. “Protecting those I care about. I've seen firsthand how a single act of violence can turn lives upside down.”
Olivia nodded, acknowledging his answer without delving into her own experiences. “It's a tough job, Steele. Are you sure you're up for it?”
He met her gaze, a fire burning in his eyes. “I'm here, aren't I? Ready to take on whatever comes our way.”
A man in a stained jumpsuit approached and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Olivia recognized him as the man they had been looking for. As they approached him, Liam's eyes darted around nervously. Olivia could see the sweat glistening on his forehead.
“Excuse me, Mr. Davidson,” Olivia said, stepping in front of him. Did she think her small frame would stop the large man? No, but it might give the hesitation they need. She held up her badge, the glint of metal catching the dim light. “Detective Collins and Detective Steele. We need to ask you a few questions.”
Liam's expression turned sour. “I don't know anything,” he grunted, trying to move past them.
As Liam Davidson brushed past Olivia, a sudden jolt of recognition surged through her, freezing her in place. An image flashed before her eyes, vivid and fleeting. She saw Mr. Davidson, his jumpsuit stained and worn, but her focus zeroed in on something peculiar about his attire. Was that hair? The vision seized her attention, leaving her bewildered by its significance.