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All things considered, she really should not have been surprised by the report. After all, people in a close knit community have a way of finding things out regardless of how well someone tries to hide or cover it up. Her neighbor tried to cover up his infidelity and within a week everyone was whispering about it like it was some big televised event. She understood it, though, the need to report on [i]anything[/i] regarding the Ramirez case, she would've even liked to be the one to break the story, but this was hardly reporting. This was speculation and a puff piece interview. 

Any person with half a brain could piece together that a dead body, a young one at that, with no previous health issues isn't just an act of God. All this report would do is make her job that much harder. 

[color=yellow]"Shit!"[/color] 

Hazel eyes were so absorbed in the news story that she hadn't even noticed the coffee had spilled out of the cup and onto her index finger. Hester Benoit snatched her hand back and shook it as if that would make the minor pain go away faster and sucked on the skin of her finger. The taste of cheap convenience store coffee and residual sweaty skin blended together on her tongue which was a far worse feeling than a now passed coffee spill. The cup that now had brown streaks on the Styrofoam would go to him. 

[color=yellow]"Coffee and doughnuts in the afternoon, could I get any more cliche?"[/color] Hester spoke in a low voice but even still the Southern Louisianan tint to her accent was apparent. It was a drawl that gave every thing she said just an added bit of spice by way of incredulity when she wasn't omitting the 'er' sounds from words, anyway. Two cups of coffee were in front of her while a cream filled doughnut rested on a napkin next to the brew machine. 

Hester sighed as she put the lid on the second, stained cup of coffee. She had seen enough of the warm beverage over the past few days to last her a life time and were she not running practically on fumes she would've gravitated towards a cold bottle of water. Water, though, at this point was good only for bathing and for combating sleep by splashing it on her face. The reason why Hester needed coffee was clear in her face. She was a young woman, not entirely without merit in the looks department, but one look at her face and someone might swear she was approaching her forties with how haggard it was looking. Lack of sleep, tons of stress, and endless questions tend to do terrible things to even the healthy bodies. It certainly didn't help that her naturally black hair, cropped short of course, was feeling as if she had just run a marathon through hell with how sticky it felt just sitting atop her head and pressed on her forehead. 

After setting the doughnut on top of the lid of the cleaner looking cup, Hester carried both coffees towards the register, behind which sat Preston, a rather jovial old plump of a man who, as far as Hester was aware, had nothing in life other than owning the convenience store. Hester was glad to support the smaller shop; it didn't matter if she went to a gas station or a 7-11 or Preston's, all the coffee tasted the same. At least with Preston it didn't feel so god damned corporate. 

[color=yellow]"Afternoon, Presson,"[/color] Hester announced as she set her items down, [color=yellow]"Coffee supply gettin' a little low, but you pro'ly ain't replace it since this morn."[/color] 

"Ain't had the time, 'tective. You heard the Ramirez girl's been murdered? In this town?"

[color=yellow]"Murder ain't exclusive to the cities, Presson. Now I ain't confirmin' nothin' or nothin' but I and my partner been runnin' damn near ragged on this. Soon as you ring me up for these drinks we'll be closah'ta solvin' whatever it is happened to poor  Olivia Ramirez."[/color] Hester, even when running on empty and not wanting to put up with the chattering, big mouthed citizens, still managed to keep her calm attitude and friendly rapport. That, in her mind, was far and away her most useful trait. 

After settling up, dropping a five and having Preston keep the change, Hester was on her way out, back to the reality of the situation. She made it out of the shop and into the afternoon heat before putting the doughnut in a far better carrying case: her mouth. Coffees in hand she crossed the parking lot towards a plain, unmarked white Ford Crown Vic, set her coffee cup on the roof and opened the passenger door. Before sitting, she made sure to grab her coffee as she lowered herself into the car. 

[color=yellow]"Gah yuh cahfhe"[/color] Hester said while offering her partner on the case his cup, the one she had overpoured and spilled. It was only after the words, or rather the sounds, left her mouth that she realized she had spoken with a mouthful of pastry. Quickly she chewed the bit in her mouth. [color=yellow]"Sorry. Got your coffee, David."[/color] She still held the cup out to him as she set hers inbetween her legs a moment in order to shut the door. [color=yellow]"Can you believe they've gone'ta press already? As if we know fuck all yet. It ain't the crimes that kill in this job, it's the civilians and their need'a know everythin'."[/color]

Hester just wanted this investigation to bear some sort of fruit. If only so she could actually stop to take a breather. Or a decent nap.[/center]