Minced in the Shelves

Janice moved gracefully through the quiet aisles of the library, her fingers delicately grazing the spines of well-loved books as she meticulously arranged them on the shelves. The comforting scent of paper and ink enveloped her, creating a soothing atmosphere in the otherwise tranquil space. 

She appreciated the orderliness-predictable and serene. This was her domain, where everything felt under control and there were no surprise interruptions.

The soft chime of the bell at the entrance broke the calm. Janice turned to see a young man step inside, his demeanour a bit hesitant, as though he were uncertain about his place there. He clutched a notebook under his arm, his eyes darting around the room before settling on her.

Chris.

She recognized him from a previous visit when he inquired about a book on criminal psychology. Their conversation had flowed easily, marked by his curiosity about the library and its patrons.

Approaching her now, his inquisitive gaze was evident. 

"Morning," he greeted, his voice steady.

"Morning," Janice responded warmly, placing a book back on the shelf.

Chris looked around. "It's quiet here this early."

"Most people prefer the afternoon," she explained.

He nodded, placing his notebook on the counter. "I'm trying to find something on investigative journalism. Is there anything recent you could recommend?"

Janice considered him thoughtfully for a moment before heading to the reference section. She retrieved a comprehensive volume and set it in front of him.

"This should be useful," she said confidently.

Chris skimmed the pages, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Have you ever thought about pursuing journalism?"

Janice tilted her head slightly. "Not really."

"Really? You seem so observant."

She allowed a small smile to cross her lips. "Being observant is different from wanting to report on what I see."

Chris chuckled softly. "That's a fair point."

He tapped the book's cover before pushing it back toward her. "I'll take this one."

Janice efficiently checked it out for him, observing as he tucked the book under his arm. He paused, contemplating before speaking again.

"Maybe I'll see you around?"

She offered a noncommittal nod. "Perhaps."

As Chris departed, triggering the bell to chime once more as the door swung shut, Janice lingered for a moment, reflecting on their interaction. There was something intriguing about him-something she wasn't yet ready to explore. 

But for now, her focus returned to the books awaiting her attention.

On the precinct's rooftop, May leaned against the railing, her coffee cooling in her hands. Mendy stood beside her, unusually quiet for a change. 

They often took their breaks here, escaping the bustle of the office and the weight of their responsibilities.

"Are you thinking about the case?" Mendy finally broke the silence.

May exhaled slowly. "Not really. Just… contemplating."

Mendy turned toward her. "You don't have to shoulder everything by yourself, you know."

She offered a wry smile. "That's what partners are for, right?"

"Absolutely," he affirmed, nudging her shoulder lightly. "So, whatever's on your mind-feel free to share."

She hesitated but then shook her head. "It's nothing I want to address right now."

Mendy didn't press her. Instead, he finished his coffee and tossed the cup into the bin.

"Let's get back to work," he suggested cheerfully.

May nodded, following him, though her thoughts still wandered elsewhere.

As evening settled in, Janice locked up the library, walking her bicycle along the street as the city embraced its nighttime rhythm. 

She passed by familiar faces-vendors winding down for the day, children at play, and the distant laughter of a group gathered outside a bar. 

She inhabited this lively world yet felt a sense of detachment.

Turning a corner, she noticed a movement in the shadows but continued walking without pause. 

As she moved on, the faint presence behind her gradually slipped away into the night.

Janice arrived at her apartment, gently pushing the door open. The familiar silence of her small space welcomed her. After securing the door, she set her bag down and walked to the window.

Below, the street pulsed with life-cars honking, voices rising and falling, and footsteps hurrying by. She let the curtain fall back into place and turned toward her desk.

A single lamp cast a warm glow over the area. Papers were neatly organized, with a few books open to marked pages. Absently, she closed one before sinking into her chair. 

Despite the day's events, she didn't feel tired. Her mind wandered back to the sense of being watched earlier; it wasn't paranoia-she recognized the feeling. 

But who could it be? A former classmate? Someone linked to them? Or just a passerby in the wrong place at a crucial moment? She shook off her uncertainty. 

Leaning back, she exhaled deeply. Tonight wasn't the night to dwell on it.

Meanwhile, May sat at her desk, analysing the case files spread before her. The glow from her lamp emphasized the shadows, making the letters on the pages seem heavier than they truly were. 

Though she wasn't officially assigned to the case yet, that hadn't prevented her from investigating it. A series of disappearances with no apparent connections among the victims stirred her curiosity. 

Yet something felt... off. 

Mendy's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You're still here?" 

May looked up to see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed. 

"Yeah," she replied. "Just reviewing some files." 

Mendy stepped inside, his eyes scanning the documents. "This case again?" 

May nodded. "Something doesn't quite add up." 

Mendy sighed and pulled out a chair. "You've been saying that for days." 

"Because it's true." She tapped the edge of a file. "These victims may not share obvious connections, but I suspect there's a link we haven't uncovered yet." 

Mendy regarded her thoughtfully. "Are you certain?" 

May nodded. "Absolutely." 

Mendy exhaled. "Alright, let's explore it further." 

The next afternoon, Janice found herself sitting outside a quiet café with a book open in her hands. However, she wasn't truly focused on reading. 

She had chosen this seating intentionally-at the street's edge, where she could observe the ebb and flow of passersby. 

She wasn't quite sure what she was looking for. Or perhaps she did. 

Just then, Chris appeared across the road, hands in pockets, moving toward the café with his usual relaxed demeanour. 

Janice kept her attention on the book, only glancing up when he stopped at her table. 

"Mind if I join you?" he asked. 

She tilted her head slightly. "I thought journalists were always busy." 

Chris chuckled as he pulled out a chair. "We make time for interesting things." 

Janice closed her book. "And I'm interesting?" 

"You don't talk much," he observed. "That makes people curious." 

A small smile appeared on Janice's lips. "Sometimes, silence conveys more than words." 

Chris leaned back, studying her. "Maybe. Or perhaps it conceals things." 

Janice met his gaze steadily. "Isn't that true for everyone?" 

Chris paused, considering her words, before breaking into a grin. "Fair point." 

They settled into a comfortable silence as the sounds of the street filled the space around them. 

Eventually, Chris spoke up. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." 

Janice didn't disagree. She simply sipped her coffee, allowing the moment to unfold.

Chris tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table, observing Janice with a curiosity that felt like the beginning of a captivating story. There was something intriguing about her-an understated intensity, sharp yet concealed, like a blade beneath silk.

"Do you come here often?" he inquired, breaking the silence.

Janice stirred her coffee and responded, "Once in a while."

Chris glanced around the café, noting its calm atmosphere. It wasn't particularly busy, with just a few scattered patrons engrossed in their own activities. It was clear this place wasn't one people just stumbled upon.

"Do you enjoy quiet places?" he ventured.

At last, Janice met his gaze. "Don't you?" 

Chris chuckled lightly. "I'm surrounded by noise-reporting, bustling streets, the urgent pursuit of stories. Quiet places feel... different to me."

Janice tilted her head, contemplating his words. "And is different a good thing?"

Chris considered his response. "Sometimes, yes."

A small smile danced across Janice's lips before she returned her focus to her book. Chris respected her space, but his mind continued to ponder. There was something about Janice that he sensed was worth exploring further.

Meanwhile, May rubbed her temple in frustration, concentrating on the board in front of her. Photos, names, and scattered notes were pinned together in a way only she understood. She traced her finger along a red thread connecting two names, instincts telling her there was a connection she had yet to uncover.

When Mendy entered with two cups of coffee, he offered one to May with a reassuring smile. "You look like you could use this."

May accepted the cup, her eyes reflecting determination. "I'm onto something important."

Mendy leaned against her desk, intrigued. "What do you think it is?"

May sighed deeply, her gaze focused. "These cases aren't random. I feel there's a pattern here."

Mendy took a sip, processing her words. "Then we keep digging till we find it."

May nodded firmly, resolute in her pursuit. She wasn't backing down until she uncovered the truth.

Later, Janice walked along the dimly lit street, her steps confident and familiar. This route was second nature to her, every turn and corner etched in memory. As a light drizzle began, the air filled with the scent of wet concrete.

She wrapped her coat tighter around her, lost in thought. In the distance, laughter emanated from a nearby bar, and the rush of a car sped by, its headlights cutting through the night.

Janice glanced at her watch, realizing the hour was late. She had commitments to fulfil, people to meet, and remnants of a past that refused to stay hidden.

The following morning, the city buzzed with its familiar energy-cars honking, people rushing by, and vendors eagerly announcing their morning specials. Janice navigated through it all with focused intent, her thoughts already outlining the day's agenda.

At the library, she fell back into her routine: organizing books, assisting patrons, and sharing friendly smiles. Yet, beneath her calm exterior, she remained discerning. Chris's interest from the previous day hadn't gone unnoticed. His gaze had held for a moment too long, and his questions had been particularly pointed.

Later in the afternoon, Aunt Esinam arrived, bearing a basket of fruits wrapped in cloth. "You need to eat, my girl. You're always so busy," she said with a warm smile.

Janice accepted the thoughtful gift. "You take such good care of me, Auntie."

"If I don't, who will?" Esinam responded with a chuckle, settling into a chair nearby. "I've heard the police are on edge again. There's talk about that murder from the other night."

Janice maintained a neutral expression. "People tend to talk."

Esinam sighed. "Talk can be frivolous, but trouble is very real. Just be cautious."

"I always am," Janice assured her.

Esinam observed her for a moment longer before giving a resigned sigh. "I know."

A comforting silence enveloped them as the sky outside darkened, with rain hinted in the air.

May released a breath as she closed the file on her desk. The bracelet remained in an evidence bag nearby, its golden details glimmering under the office's dim light.

She had invested the entire morning searching for any clues-anything that might hint at its origins. Yet, she found nothing-no records, no shop listings, no stolen property reports.

It was as if it had materialized out of nowhere.

Frowning, she felt a sense of unease.

This was not only the sole piece of evidence remaining at the crime scene, but it also felt intentional.

Just then, Mendy tapped on her desk, bringing her back to the moment. "You're examining that thing like it holds secrets," he remarked.

She sighed, massaging her temples. "It's just... strange."

"Most cases have their quirks," Mendy replied, settling into a chair across from her. "But if it isn't revealing

As Janice left the library, the rain had commenced, creating a steady drizzle that blurred the city lights and made the streets glisten like glass. She wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and walked with determination, carefully avoiding puddles and the occasional sidelong glance from people seeking shelter.

She was mindful of her route, having memorized it over time-same streets, same turns-always blending into the crowd just enough to remain unnoticed. It was a habit she had honed, a vital skill in her life.

When she reached the restaurant at the intersection, she paused, not out of hunger but because she sensed someone observing her. Stay composed. Don't overreact. 

With a casual scan of her surroundings, she took stock of the scene. Everything seemed ordinary: a few customers by the windows, an elderly man polishing his spectacles, and a young boy absorbed in his phone.

Then-she spotted Chris. 

Sitting at the far end with a coffee cup in hand, he briefly met her gaze before looking away. Janice inhaled slowly, processing the moment. "Could it be a coincidence? "

Unlikely. She recalled how he had looked at her yesterday. She forced a small smile as she stepped inside, acting as if she hadn't noticed him. Ordering a light meal, she settled down by the window, letting the soothing sound of rain outside distract her.

She knew she had to remain vigilant.

May sighed and rubbed her face, feeling the weight of another dead end. The bracelet had yielded no leads, and the files she had reviewed offered little assistance. If there was a connection, it eluded her grasp.

She leaned back in her chair and glanced at Mendy, who sat with his feet propped on his desk, absentmindedly twirling a pen. 

"You're overthinking again," he observed.

She shot him a look. "That's part of the job, Mendy."

"True, but don't forget to take a break every now and then."

She sighed, noticing the time. It was late, and she hadn't even realized how much time had passed.

"Are you heading out?" he asked.

"In a minute," she replied.

Mendy gave a quick nod and stretched. "Just try not to dream about crime scenes again."

She smirked, shaking her head. "No promises."

As he walked away, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. 

She wasn't finished yet. Something wasn't quite right, and she was determined to uncover the truth. 

Meanwhile, Chris stirred his coffee, keeping Janice in his peripheral vision. 

She was cautious-very much so. 

Her movements, her ability to notice details without direct engagement struck him as unusual. She sensed Chris's gaze upon her. It was a subtle awareness, but it carried a sense of unease. While she had successfully avoided unwanted attention up to now, there was something in the way he watched her that aroused a quiet alarm in her mind

The rain had transformed into a gentle mist by the time Janice stepped out of the restaurant. The city had grown quieter, leaving only the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by the breeze. She walked at a relaxed pace, her steps light yet purposeful, seamlessly blending into the night as if it were part of her.

Chris observed her departure, feeling his grip tighten around his coffee cup. He had anticipated her to linger a bit longer, perhaps casting one more glance in his direction, but she seemed to move on as though he were no longer in her thoughts. This only deepened her allure.

Janice chose not to follow her usual route home. Instead, she navigated through the less-frequented streets, the dimly lit areas where her silhouette blended effortlessly with the shadows. Her pace remained steady and composed; it was essential to never appear as though she were fleeing from anything.

By the time she reached her apartment, the night had fully enveloped the city. She secured the door behind her, took a deep breath, and leaned against it for a moment, allowing herself a brief pause.

As she removed her shawl, her fingers brushed over the smooth metal of her bracelet. Her eyes lingered on it for a moment before she shook off the thought, focusing on the present instead.