“What I’m trying to tell you is, that girl walked straight across the floor to the coffee maker. She didn’t see anything else around her,” Shavian looked back to make sure Higgins was with her, and perhaps listening. He never said anything; okay, he said ‘things’ but she wouldn’t have called that talking. When she did look at him, he seemed to sense she was going to and he would stop, turn and grunt in response to whatever she said.
Sometimes the grunt sounded approving, sometimes it sounded disapproving; it reminded her of her father’s disapproving grunt when she introduced him to a new boyfriend. Once she heard that grunt, she knew the relationship wouldn’t last. No matter how much she liked the guy, and believed she could make it last to spite him, it never did.
This time, Higgins looked and gave an approving grunt. Okay, maybe he was listening to her. The guy doesn’t talk and she turns into a babbling idiot. Just like it was with … Elliott. Damn it.
They were in the hotel kitchen looking through the storage rooms. Shavian believed because of what she saw in the police station that Junie would sleep walk her way to the next place serving coffee. It was better than Higgins’s plan; all he’d said was “Elevator” once the others walked away. Why elevator? Why would Junie be in an elevator? She wondered if she should have been listening to Elliott.
At first the guards didn’t want to let them into kitchen; not many people were allowed there. Security tried to keep some order over the only stores of food they had. But Shavian knew if she gave a sly glance with her brown eyes and tossed her red hair the right way, it was better than having the skeleton key to the building.
They checked the large coffee brewing machines; Junie wasn’t there, of course. So they had moved to working along the back pantries, trying to see if she’d gone looking for fresh beans. Shavian didn’t let anyone pick her clothes; she assumed Junie wouldn’t let anyone pick her coffee.
“I don’t think she’s here. Have you asked anyone about this Treeville Coffee house place?” she asked Higgins.
Negative grunt.
“Of course not,” Shavian stood up straight and sighed, he was always like this, never approving of … Wait what?
She shook her head; where the hell did that come from? “How did you ever become a cop? How do you get any information out of the people you arrest?”
Higgins reached out and stopped one of the sous chefs passing with a bag of potatoes. He started to protest, but at seeing the police uniform stopped. “Hey man what the hell? Oh, ahh, sorry, sir,” the Chef said, waiting nervously now.
“Treeville,” Higgins grunted at him.
“Oh yeah, that’s over in the Pearl District, down by the river, you can’t miss it. Well I mean you can’t miss it if those damn freaks out there don’t cut you down and turn you to meat,” the chef said and looked between them.
Higgins gave a positive grunt and looked smug before turning walking away.
“Oh there is going to be no living with you now is there?” Shavian growled and walked passed the chef, but not before giving him a smack on the back of the head. “This is your fault!”
“What the hell, Red …” The chef started to say, but Shavian tapped an elbow on the assault rifle she still had hanging at her side.
“I wouldn’t finish that thought unless you’re able to strike me down with that sack of potatoes.” She turned and looked after Higgins. She wondered why Elliott didn’t pick her to go with him. She was sure she was going to have to put up with him slobbering all over her, so he must have done this on purpose. He knew her soft spot for mutes; yeah, he was going to have to pay.