Clouded Thoughts

As Natalie rested her elbows on her knees, she tapped her foot restlessly. Taking a deep drag of her cigarette, her eyes darted back and forth between the organized evidence scattered on her walls. A wave of relief passed through her when she blew out the sweet, sweet smoke…

“You really shouldn’t smoke, Naty. That stuff will kill you, y’know!” Her sister’s concern about her disgusting habit rang in her head, along with all the other damn things that plagued her mind. But she couldn’t think about that now. Not when she had to focus on the case.

What was she missing? What had she not thought of? Natalie followed the trail of color-coded threads, scrutinizing each piece of its never ending puzzle. As the nicotine wore off, her head throbbed with a dull pain.

She reached forward toward the ashtray on her coffee table to put out her cigarette—three times to be sure—and stood to approach the tidy newspaper clippings on her wall. Thank God no one from the precinct ever came over to her apartment. She could hear Captain Hawthorne already…

“Goddamn it, Stone. Have you gone insane?!” The thought of it made her laugh.

“Not any more than I already am,” she replied to his phantom voice, thick with the sense of dry humor.