Rue

Laverna

Goddess of thieves
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In a spotless forensic science laboratory in the basement of the east Texas branch of the Acme Detective Agency, Ruelle “Rue” Hargold worked dutifully. Now, Rue is an exceptional genius, as many who have met her like to brag about in their games of merry gossip.


Despite this, she would rather try her luck at being as impossibly inconceivable as a phantom haunting the halls of the Agency. Still, Rue often felt a sense of pride as she allowed the words to stroke her ego.


Rue’s concentration focused on the specimen of reddish soil found at the scene of the crime. She gently placed a dash of the broken terra onto a glass slide. “I hypothesize that the run-of-the-mill red clay is what I’m observing today,” Rue whispered to herself as she reached for the dropper full of watery solution.


She precisely landed a single droplet onto the flecks of dirt. “Now, I wonder what I shall uncover with this microscope,” she continued her narrative rambling.


Swiftly, she sandwiched the evidence with another clean slide. Her work was full of tiny, delicate movements that worked like a clockwork mechanism.


“Miss Hargold, I brought your frosted coffee,” a man’s voice called out. Rue, heavily focused on her work, didn’t hear her supervisor enter the laboratory.


The supervisor shook his head as he walked over with the cup of deliciousness. “Rue!” he shouted, just enough to break her concentration.


“Yes, Boss,” Ruelle responded before noticing the cup. “Oh, thank you, Ranger,” she continued as he placed it on her tidy desk.


A genuine smile crossed Ranger’s wrinkled face. He knew Ruelle needed to take a break from working on the mediocre evidence. He also knew it was futile, but he still encouraged her to analyze the evidence collected from the botched bank robbery on the corner of Fifty-Ninth Street and Main Street in their small town of Magnolia Falls, Texas.


She rolled over to her desk without even getting out of her chair. The cushioned office chair’s wheels squealed softly as she maneuvered toward it.


Ranger chuckled at the sight of his newest recruit. “She’s only been working here for six months,” he noted, truthfully. He had taken her in out of pity—and because work in this Acme jurisdiction was as empty as a tumbleweed.


She sipped her frosted coffee—a thick blend of vanilla ice cream and iced mocha made with a dark Arabian roast from their local cafe, The Roaster—while Ranger vented his frustrations about the broken water fountain and how he’d had to contact headquarters for repairs all the way in San Francisco, California. Rue nodded as she half-heartedly listened to her boss.


She hadn’t heard a single word. “Rue, did you hear anything I said?” he asked. She sheepishly grinned and sunk deeper into her chair.


“Sorry, Boss,” she grumbled, and he let out an exasperated sigh.


“I know, you’re hearing impaired and all, but I wanted to congratulate you on how earnest of an agent you are,” he admitted.


“Oh, I’m trying my best, sir,” she replied.


Her straw was thoroughly chewed up by the time she finished the frosted coffee, making Ranger jokingly wonder if Rue was part goat, since she clearly ate plastic. “Are you a goat?” he asked with a belly laugh, gesturing to the chewed-up straw.


Rue’s face turned as red as a tomato.


He playfully swatted her shoulder before urging her to continue her work. “Alright, I have to check on things in my office,” he explained before departing from the laboratory. Rue shrugged before going back to figuring out the exact type of red clay.
 

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