DETECTIVE COPLER’S POV
He kept beating himself up as he drove back home from the laboratory.
He had promised himself that he would keep his emotions in check, but he had failed miserably by kissing Zara. Now, the look of surprise and how uncomfortable she was afterward, haunted him.
If there was a thing he hated, it was mixing business with pleasure, and he had just defaulted in that aspect.
His thoughts were still conflicting when he arrived home. He got inside and walked straight to the kitchen to fix himself breakfast.
“I’m sorry, but the hair does not belong to a human. The strands of hair are from a synthetic wig.” He clenched his fists in anger as he remembered the results from the lab.
Who the hell was the person messing with him? He could bet with his badge that the culprit was a female, because why the hell will a man wear a wig?
Wait…a wig?
The person must have bought it from a shop, right?
Reluctantly, he picked up his phone and dialed Zara’s number again. He needed more information, hoping it would lead him closer to the truth.
“Detective?”
“Oh hi, Zara. I need a favor, please. Could you please tell me the type of synthetic wig those strands of hair are from?”
“Sure. They are from a monofilament synthetic wig.”
“Okay. Thank you so much, Zara.”
“You are welcome, detective.”
“Ummm…Zara, about the…” he hesitated, unsure of how to address the kiss.
“Don’t say it, please. If you want to apologize for the kiss, please don’t. It was not a mistake and I liked it. I’m sorry if my reaction was not encouraging. I was just stunned we kissed,” She blurted out, her words catching him off guard.
“Thank you. I will have to go now.” he managed to say before abruptly ending the call. He needed to focus on the case, not on his complicated feelings for Zara.
Abandoning his breakfast, He hurried out of his house, determined to get to the bottom of the case. He had a hunch that the wig could be a vital clue, and he knew exactly where to go.
He arrived at a local wig shop with the envelope containing the hair evidence in hand. Walking inside, he approached the salesgirl at the counter.
“Hi, I am Detective Copler.” He said, showing her his ID.
Her eyes immediately squinted in fear. “Go.. good day, Sir.”
“Is the owner of this place around?”
“Yes, he is.”
“I would like to see him.”
“Okay, Sir. I will go and inform him in his office.” She hurried away and returned a few minutes later with a red-faced pudgy pudgy-looking man.
“Who are you?” The man asked, irritation evident in his voice.
“Detective Copler.” He replied and flashed his ID in the man’s face.
His angry face immediately turned confused, then scared. “Am I in trouble?”
“I wish I could tell you that. Do you recognize this wig?” he demanded, showing them the strands of hair.
Both the salesgirl and the owner shook their heads vigorously, denying any knowledge of selling such a wig. Copler’s frustration grew, feeling like he was hitting a dead end again
“Check your sales records. See if you find any matches with the sale of this wig,” he probed further.
The owner and salesgirl exchanged a nervous glance before pointing him toward their records. He carefully scanned through, hoping to find a clue, but he was disappointed as he found no records that matched the sale of the wig.
“Here, this is my card,” he said and handed his card to the owner. “Give me a call if you remember anything. And by God, I hope you are not lying to me.” With that, he walked out of the shop.
He got into his car and rested his head on the steering. He had hit a crossroad again and he was at a loss on what to do at that point.
TIFFANY’S POV
As she stepped out of the car, she spotted Timothy, leaning on another car and waiting for her. Annoyed by his presence, she quickly walked away in a bid to avoid him, but he quickly caught up with her.
“Hey, Tiffany! Wait up,” He called out.
Her eyes flashed with anger as she turned to face him. “What do you want, Timothy? Can’t you see I’m in no mood for this?”
His expression changed, remorse vivid in his eyes. “I-I’m sorry, Tiffany. I don’t know what got into me. I messed up, and I understand if you’re angry, but please, forgive me.”
Her voice filled with bitterness, She glared at him. “You seriously think it’s that simple? You asked me to be your girlfriend, knowing full well that I’m engaged and married to Shawn Gold! Do you have any idea how disrespectful that is?
His face immediately fell as he could no longer look at her face. “I never meant to disrespect you or your relationship with Shawn, Tiffany. I was just caught up in the moment. It was a mistake, and I regret it.”
Her anger grew, and she lashed out. “Regret doesn’t fix things, Timothy. You’ve betrayed my trust, and you’ve shown me that our friendship doesn’t mean anything to you. I thought I could count on you, but you’ve ruined everything with your thoughtless proposal.”
“Please, Tiffany, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. You mean the world to me, and I value our friendship more than anything. Can’t you please give me a second chance to prove myself?”
She shook her head, her eyes cold. “No, Timothy. Your actions have spoken louder than your words. I need some space, and I need you to stay away from me henceforth. I don’t trust you anymore either”
Without Waiting for another response from him, she turned on her heels and walked to class.
Time seemed to drag on, as she had classes upon classes. By the time it was recess she was already tired and famished.
“Let’s go for lunch, Tiff.” Freya said, walking up to her.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“You don’t have to worry about Timothy. He won’t be sitting with us. He deserves everything he is getting.”
She hesitated for a moment, before accepting. “Fine. But make sure he doesn’t sit with us.”
“Sure,” Freya replied and they both walked out of the class.
They got to the cafeteria, sat down and ordered their meal.
“Can I join you guys?” Timothy asked, joining them with his tray of food.
“No, you can’t.” Freya said.
Timothy turned to Tiffany with pleading eyes, but she quickly looked away.
“It’s fine. I understand you are both angry at me and I deserve every treatment I get. I will let you be.” And he walked away to another table.
“Will he stop being our friend?” Freya asked when he was out of earshot.
“I don’t know,” she replied simply and returned her attention to her food.