Emily had been meaning to call Billy, but she was overthinking it as was her wont. She was waiting for the perfect moment that wasn't strangely soon or so far in the future that it was out of the blue. Of course, that moment didn't exist, but how did one even broach the topic of 'Hi, Billy, it's Emily, the cop you met a few days ago. Yeah, I wanted to ask you about the strange substances I saw in your bag...'
Fortunately, it was taken out of her hands. Juniper hadn't had the decency to warn Emily about giving out her number, so she assumed the man was calling because he wanted to add his statement to that police report, which was better than nothing when she hadn't expected to hear from him at all. Unless he was planning that lunch, to which Emily wondered why he didn't call Max when Max had done the lion's share of the talking and was the friendlier of them.
All of these thoughts passed in the first few rings, the woman sitting on
her couch (an actual couch, built of hardier materials than cardboard), chin propped on her knuckles as she considered the screen and the number. Then, on the third ring, she answered.
"Hello... Billy?"
Her voice was soft, words precise, likely better suited for a kindergarten teacher than a cop. Emily had a Professional voice when it came to work, but this wasn't that as far as she knew.