“Cherie!”

Dean was running after her now, and he knew that he was going too far. She continued to walk away from him. Her long brown hair bounced intoxicatingly about her shoulders.

“We have a crime scene to attend, Dean. This isn’t the time.”

“Please, Cherie. I just wanted to say…”

She turned around to look at him with her head on one side, eyes wide and teasing.

“It doesn’t matter.” finished Dean with an embarassed shrug.

Cherie rolled her eyes, sighing, and placing her hands on her hips.

“Did you get anything on that RTA?”

“RTA?”

“The dead boy and drunk driver, Dean. Read the files!”

“Oh, yeah.” Dean said slowly. “We don’t think the kid died in the accident after all.”

Cherie shook her head and frowned questioningly.

“Um…there wasn’t any blood from the metal scrapes.”

“So you’re saying the child was dead before the car crashed?”

“Basically, yes.”

Cherie nodded and turned away again.

“Not my department. I’ve gotta scene waiting.”

He followed her like a dog. RTAs could wait.