Chapter 12.

                                    

                                          
Kate kept the radio on the local channel while she worked in autopsy room #3. She was waiting to hear something, anything about the woman that had escaped the prison the previous day and what was happening. It was her only link to Joan throughout the day; they hadn't even exchanged phone numbers yet, and even if they had she didn't expect Joan would be the type to send a text message, especially in the middle of what would have been a nightmare of a day.
                          
Every half hour a local journalist would announce the news with any fresh updates. 
                          
As the day stretched on Kate found herself becoming more and more irritated with everything in her life in that room as the newscaster gave her nothing. The way her blue scrubs moved against her body made her skin itch. The crinkle of the plastic apron every time it moved caused a twitch in her face to start acting up with every crinkle noise that seemed to cut through the air like a knife. Even the commercial grade blue gloves seemed to restrict the blood in her fingers as they sucked to her skin as a layer of protection and she felt like her hands were being strangled. 
                          
Desperately she tried to keep her mind on the job in front of her and not let it wander to Joan and the level of stress she must have been dealing with that day, as every half hour the newscaster continued to bring her nothing.
                          
It occurred to Kate that perhaps the media wasn't even notified yet about the break out. Joan was definitely the sort of person who would want to keep an incident like this under wraps and deal with it herself, if she could. She would use an internal network of officers and possibly the help of some sympathetic police to help her contain and manage the situation. She wouldn't want media getting a hold of the story and making it look like she wasn't in control of the situation.
                          
Kate waited all day to hear something, anything. But all throughout the day the news continued to roll around with no updates, no breaking news, no information at all. 
                          
It was on her drive home in the late afternoon that she finally heard something.
                          
"Breaking news, an escaped prisoner and an officer have been arrested after gunshots were heard from nearby residents..." Kate didn't manage to hear the whole bulletin; just that they had both been arrested and a man was found dead. 
                          
"Oh no," she whispered to herself as she battled the inner city traffic. She knew it would be another late night for Joan. Kate had had no idea there was an officer involved, she wondered if Joan had known when she was there the night before or if this was a new development for her too.
                          
Detouring past the market on her way, Kate picked up some fresh produce with a plan in mind. 
                          
Joan returned home late, as expected, satisfied with the result of the day, but something deep inside was irking her. A facial tick twitched occasionally without warning, she could feel it. 
                          
As she stepped from her car she looked across the road to the lights shining through Kate's windows. Joan smiled as she thought about how Kate's little distraction last night had caused her mind to clear, giving her brain room to think logically and develop the plan she had instigated this morning. She liked that. Kate was good for her she decided as though it was a conscious choice. 
                          
Collecting her transparent work bag Joan walked to her front door and found a sticky note hanging there right at eye level. 
                          
Loopy cursive handwriting, written with a blue pen on the traditional yellow paper. Have a shower then come over for dinner. X. 
                          
Joan plucked the note off her door and wandered inside with a surprising lightness inside her. She put her things down haphazardly, not like her at all, the car keys and small work bag hit the hallway table where they stayed without being unpacked or put away properly, but she kept the yellow sticky note between her fingers as she floated up the stairs to her bathroom. She stuck the note on the mirror, off to the side, where it would live from now on.