JACKSON
My feet pounded against the synthetic pavement, long strides pushing me forward. The summer sun was brutal beating down against me and the few other runners that had made their way up to the track for a morning run.
I love living in a small town. Mostly, I love living outside of Dallas. As much as I loved the beat that I worked in and the people that I worked with, I needed a break from the bustle of the city. Southlake was only about twenty minutes away, expensive but about the only thing I'd really invested my trust fund in, and not much of a commute if I left early enough in the morning to avoid the traffic. Afternoons coming home were a different story, sure, but the moments of road rage are mostly worth it. The only other people here this morning are a bunch of high schoolers on the cross country team. Most of which can and do outrun me. It's a nice ego check. Most of the time.
Saturday was supposed to be my day off, but it doesn't surprise me that criminals don't respect that.
Halfway through my first mile, my phone buzzes with a call. Pulling it out of my armband, I slow down and catch my breath, seeing Chief Webber's name appearing on the screen. Not a call that I can ignore.
"What's up?" I answered the phone.
"We need you down here. Got two bodies down on West Mockingbird Lane, down by the storage facilities. Looks like the same guy who dropped the bodies down in Preston Hollow last month." Webber informed me gruffly. I paused, looking down at my watch. It's too early for this.
"Alright. Should be there in about twenty-five minutes." Good thing there's no traffic this early.
I'm not going to smell nice, but at least a crime scene is grotesque enough to take away from a haphazard appearance on my end. Jogging out to my car, I wipe away the sweat from my face and neck, putting my truck into gear and heading over. I'd have to shower and change at the station.
A nearly empty highway means that it's quick to get there, almost a straight line to get there. Webber had sent the exact address to my phone, but the cluster of police cars and other vehicles make it easy to spot.
Closing my car door, I dip into my truck to grab a pair of gloves and my badge, clipping it on top of my running shorts. Most people around here don't know me, except for Derek. Showing up in leggings and a college t-shirt that I'd pulled out of the backseat probably wasn't going to be particularly stellar for my reputation. I hadn't been a homicide detective for long. Someone had to die for me to get this position. Someone that had been a close mentor and ally to me when I had first joined the department twelve years ago. I'd majored in criminal justice with the expectation to be a lawyer, not a police officer, not a homicide detective. My mother and grandfather both hadn't been thrilled. I'm pretty sure they both still weren't, even with the recent promotion.
But I don't feel entirely ready to fill in his shoes. Mark had been everything to me, the closest thing that I'd had to a father. Now there's no turning back. The last thing that I wanted to do was disappoint him.
Swallowing the thoughts about him, I force myself over. Derek's easy to spot. He's tall and almost always overdressed for the situation when we're not in uniform. It's pretty much a running joke among everyone else. He was well aware of it.
"We were starting to wonder when you'd show." Shepherd offered up.
"I said twenty-five minutes. It's seven in the morning on a Saturday." I paused a moment, glancing down at my watch. "And it took me… twenty-six. Whatever." I shook my head.
"Don't worry about it, I'm just messing around." He brushed off quickly. "Two vics, looks like they were here together. We got an ID on the male – Victor Gonzalez, 43, a broker. Looks like he hired the female for a little company."
Taking the information, I snap on the gloves and step a little closer, lifting up the sheet that had been placed over the both of them for modesty. His assessment looked correct enough. It's a bloody mess, the work of a knife. Gunshot victims are common enough, as are gang-related deaths. This didn't look like it fell into either of those categories. Sighing heavily, I get out of the way for one of the CSIs, stepping back over toward Derek. Definitely reminded me of what we had seen in Preston Hollow.
"The medical examiner should be here any minute." He commented.
As if he was in sync with the examiner, the black van pulled up a few moments later. Straightening up, we both glance over. A small, red-haired woman got out of the driver's seat, appearing the rather annoyed with the male getting out of the passenger seat. I stare for a brief moment, unable to help myself. You don't see a lot of people in this business that look like her. Must have been the coroner's assistant.
I walk over to the pair of redheads walking toward the crime scene, extending a hand toward the male to introduce myself. "Detective Jackson Avery. You must be the medical examiner."
The woman cleared her throat, shooting a glare at the male.
"Uh, Dr. Owen Hunt. Assistant to the chief medical examiner." He introduced, shaking my hand.
"Dr. April Kepner," the woman chimed in, offering her my hand. "Chief Medical Examiner. Just moved here from Seattle."
Oh. I couldn't help but feel like an idiot for going off of the assumption, but I quickly take her hand. She had a firm shake. Good for her. She probably had to deal with a lot of idiot males in the field, for a moment, myself included. It was male dominant, even with attempts to diversify the departments. I'm sure the medical examiners had the same issue.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. Both of you." I offered. Derek stepped up, the both of them shaking hands and exchanging introductions as well. I don't miss the less than subtle way that he checked out April.
April didn't seem oblivious to it, either.
"Well, there's work to do." She cleared her throat, brushing past the both of us. We both instinctively turn around and watch her walk away for a moment, a little bit of a habit. But even I wasn't expecting the crude comment that came from Derek's lips a moment later.
"You think that she's a natural redhead? 'Cause I'd like to find out." Derek retorted.
"Dude, you're married," I shook my head, letting out a sigh. "You've got to knock it off with that kind of crap." Even if, well, I couldn't help but check her out too. She had a nice rear.
"Can't help it, that's just where my head goes." He replied.
I rolled my eyes at him. "C'mon, let her do her job without having to worry about you ogling her. Let's get back to the station and start from there."
We head back to the station in our own separate vehicles. The first thing I do is head to the locker room and get a quick shower, running the sweat and grime off of my body from the morning's workout. A spare set of clothes was kept in my locker for this purpose, among others, and I quickly redress in a pair of black pants and a blue button-down. When I get back out there, Derek had already begun setting up a bulletin board, pulling out some of the information and the autopsy report from the last victims that we had found.
As far as Dallas went, it wasn't the worst area of town. There were shady parts mingled in here and there, and I probably wouldn't have wanted to roam around the area at night. But this definitely wasn't like it was south Dallas. Anything on the north side was relatively clean, comparatively.
I grabbed the autopsy report from the last murders, glancing over at them. They're not the most brutal thing that I've ever seen but they hadn't had a quick death by any means.
"Did the M.E. call and give an estimated time of death on the most recent victims yet?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, I made sure she got my number, too." Derek beamed at me. "Killed between one and two in the morning."
"Dude, how do you know she's not married too?" I retorted with a shake of my head.
"No ring on the finger." He answered without missing a beat.
"You don't wear a ring at work." I pointed out. "Besides, she could still be in a relationship. I don't think you want to get off on a bad foot with the chief medical examiner, man. I definitely don't." I commented.
Derek raised his eyebrows, tossing his gum wrapper at my head. I react just in time to knock it away. "What, you trying to go for her?" He suggested with a chuckle. "'Bout time you went for someone around here, dude. Celibacy isn't going to treat you half as well as you think."
My eyes roll without even thinking about it. I wasn't celibate. Not by any means or standards, that'd been done with long ago in high school. It'd been awhile since I'd had anything more than a few cause dates, met up with a girl at a bar, nothing ever serious. I was pretty happy with where my life was. I liked my work. I liked helping people and making a direct difference in their life, trying to fight against the stereotypes that often went with police officers. I had a good group of friends that I hung around with, even if Derek could be somewhat of a dick sometimes. Most of the other guys that hung around the station were good people.
"No, man, not even close," I disagreed with a shake of my head. Sure, she was attractive enough. Clearly successful. But that just wasn't the first place that my mind went every time I saw a woman. "I just believe in this little thing called respecting a woman, you know? Maybe you've heard of it."
"Oh, shut up." He snorted out. "Let's just look at the case."
We pour over the details of the last case again, knowing that there won't be a lot of progress to make until we got the new coroner's report. That would probably take another day or two minimum, and there hadn't been a lot to go off of in the first place. More victims would mean more information, one way or another.
The day comes and goes without any major progress. A few ideas thrown around here and there, Webber checking in at one point to see if we'd come up with anything solid, telling us to keep working. Even if Derek could be a bit of an asshole, he was good at his job. He'd been a homicide detective years longer than I had, and there were things I could learn from him. Even if how to be a decent person wasn't one of them.
Eventually, there comes a point where there's nothing more that we can feasibly do without the autopsy report. After a long day of staring at dead bodies, though, sometimes the only thing that a person can do without going crazy and stop is getting a drink.
Or maybe that's just how alcoholics start. Either way, it's not uncommon to hit up a bar relatively close to the station and find other officers there. Part of it's a social thing. It's kind of just the way that it was, though.
Parking in one of the few remaining slots, it doesn't surprise me that it's this crowded on a Saturday night, even if it's not terribly late yet.
"Hey, Joe," I greeted as I walked up to the counter, offering him a smile. The bartender was a significant part of everyone's life, it seemed like. Everyone had a story involving him, even if not everyone was quite as willing to tell with the embarrassment that came along with some of them. "Just give me whatever you've got on tap tonight."
He served me and I set down the cash and tip, offering him a smile before moving over to sit down at one of the tables. It's not too loud here, decent rock music from the 80s playing. All in all, not a bad place to spend a Saturday night, even on my own.
Sipping at my beer, I lean back in the chair and look around. Nothing particularly surprising, just the usuals – people gathered around, getting a little rowdy over the sports game playing on the televisions. I'd never been as big of a fan as basketball as I was football, only keeping up with March Madness by word of the brackets of everyone around me. To me, there's more entertainment in watching them all go at each other than there was the actual game.
Bouncing red curls catch my attention for a moment, the same shade of auburn that I had seen earlier today at the crime scene. Not who I had expected to see here, certainly.
Kepner was seated at the bar by herself, nursing a glass of red wine. She was wearing dark jeans and a beige sweater, black bralette peaking out. I watched her for a moment to see if anyone else was going to join her, half expecting to see Hunt coming in any moment. People had a habit of sticking with those they knew more than anyone else. Cops were almost always hanging around with their partners. I was probably one of the less common exceptions for that.
I don't want to stare at her like a creep, though. Turning into Shepherd wasn't a part of the plan. I pull out my phone for a moment, scrolling through some of the most recent news articles. There was always some kind of ridiculous headline to grab attention.
The next time that I look up from my phone and glance around, most things hadn't changed, but Kepner was no longer on her own at the counter. Instead, another officer had joined her. I recognized him right off the bat, Sergeant Taylor. A bland guy, not a bad one, just not good company by any means. He did happen to hit on anyone and anything that would give him the time of day, so it didn't surprise e that he'd pinned her down as soon as the opportunity came around.
Based on her face, though, she wasn't particularly thrilled with the position that she was in. She had given off the impression of a woman more than capable of taking care of and asserting herself at the crime scene, but at the moment, she looked more like a deer caught in headlights than the same bossy medical examiner that had shut Hunt and his ego down in two seconds flat. No point in leaving her hanging out to dry.
Getting up and pocketing my phone, it only takes a few seconds for me to get over there. There were a few different ways that I could have gone around it, but I decided to go for a less than subtle approach to get him to knock it off. With a broad smile on my face, I sling my arm around April's shoulder, facing toward Taylor.
"Hey, April. Sorry, I'm late. Got a little caught up at the station." I throw out casually.
"Oh– hey, hi, hey." She stuttered out.
"Oh," Taylor said shortly, blinking at the pair of us. "Sorry, I didn't realize that you were waiting for someone. Uh, nice to see you again, Detective Avery." He gave a smile that was clearly forced, no doubt uncomfortable that this wasn't going where he thought it would.
I offer a smile back at him that's just as fake. "No big deal."
"Sorry, I uh, I should have said something sooner." April piped in for his benefit, clearing her throat. "Hi, Jackson, it's nice to see you again," she leaned into me a little more, no doubt putting on a show for him.
"I guess I'll just leave you two be. See you around." Taylor didn't hesitate to get out of there before it could become any more awkward between the three of us, scampering away with his tail between his legs.
Once he was out of sight and no longer paying attention to the two of us, I retrieve my arm and step back a little to put a more appropriate amount of distance between the two of us, not wanting to seem overbearing.
"Thank you for that," April said with a shy smile.
"Don't worry about it," I brushed off quickly. "Taylor's got a bit of a reputation around here, didn't want you to have to find out about it the wrong way. You seem pretty serious about your work so I thought that I'd spare you the trouble." I explained. "Hope it's okay I slung my arm over you like that. I thought it'd be the best way to get him out of your hair."
"I appreciate that. Can I buy you a drink as thanks?" She suggested, both of her eyebrows raising up into her forehead hopefully.
Normally I don't let women buy me drinks – it's an ego thing, mostly. Maybe a little painfully masculine and a smidgen chauvinistic, but I had been raised as a gentleman. I still believed in paying for the woman on her date and holding doors open. I was for gender equality all the same, and treating women well was certainly a part of that.
"Sure," I smiled.
I let her wave over Joe and order me another beer and another glass of wine for herself, sitting down on the stool next to hers. I faced toward her slightly to give her my full attention, thanking her properly once the bartender had brought over us both another set of drinks.
"So, you said earlier that you were from Seattle, right?" I asked politely.
"Yeah. I've bounced around a little bit, but I was in Seattle for awhile. When the chief position here opened up, I had to take to jump and take it." April explained. "Definitely a lot more sunshine here," she chuckled.
"Oh yeah, you might want to invest in some sunscreen." I grinned. She was definitely pale. That probably wasn't going to last for long. "Seemed like there was some tension earlier between you and Dr. Hunt, right? I take it that he applied for the same position that you did?"
April took a deep breath and picked up her glad son wine, sipping it and nodding her head. "Yeah, I don't think he's pleased that they brought in an outsider for the position. He wanted it."
"Sorry to hear about that," I offered up empathetically. "I'm sure that he'll get over it soon."
Both of her shoulders lifted up in a shrug. "Doesn't matter, I'm still his boss."
"That's a good attitude to have." I raised my glass toward her, waiting for her to the same. "To you, and to being boss." She smiled at me, echoing the sentiment.
"How long have you been here?" April asked me.
"I uh, grew up in the area, actually," I answered with a single shoulder shrug, taking a sip of my beer. "I live out in Southlake now, but I've always been in the Dallas area. Makes knowing my beat really easy, for sure. You do get used to all the sunshine, eventually." I threw in for good measure.
"Good to know," she chuckled. "Any suggestions for a first timer?"
"Depends on what you like. As far as food… there's pretty much good everything. If you like burgers, can't go wrong with the original Snuffers. They've got some really good cheese fries, too. Torchy's is good for some sit-down tacos, but honestly, there are cheap little taco trucks that'll beat it out every day of the week if you know where to look. If you like entertainment, House of Blues. The American Airline Center is a good venue, too. Museums… the JFK one is kind of a bust, about five minutes of facts and then just conspiracy theories. I'd go with the Perot."
I knew my city pretty well, I'd taken the time to explore it both as a child and adult. My mom had always wanted me to be well cultured and insisted on taking me to all of the museums around as a child, and I'd learned pretty quickly what I did and didn't like. April seemed to be taking my considerations pretty seriously, nodding slightly.
"I guess you really have lived here your whole life," she chuckled. "Thank you. I do love a good taco truck so you'll have to tell me where all of the good ones are."
"I can do that, no problem," I chuckled.
We sit there and talk back and forth for awhile, discussing some of the different quirks about Dallas compared to the other places that she had lived. Apparently, before Seattle, she'd lived in Chicago and a small town that no one had ever heard of before then. She didn't talk about herself a lot, or at least not in great detail. Shy, it seemed like, even if she was confident about her work.
There was something a little endearing about the charm in her shyness, though. The way that she blushed and bit down on her lower lip, turning to her glass of wine whenever she got a little sheepish over the question. She was a sweet girl, certainly. She made that much clear.
"Wow… it's getting late," April finally commented when she glanced down at her phone.
"Why don't I walk you out to your car?" I suggested politely. She nodded in agreement and gathered her purse. I held open the door of the bar for her and trailed next to her out to her car, a little amused to find that she was actually the car next to mine. Right under a lamp pole, that was no doubt intentional. I was sure that she had seen just as many grotesque and gory things in her work that I had.
"Thank you, for tonight," she said, stopping by her trunk and turning to face me. "I kind of thought that I was going to just drink and sit alone at a bar all night. You really made a difference." There's a sparkle of something in her eyes, something that I can't quite place my finger on.
"Of course. It was my pleasure," I quickly said, shaking off her apologies. "You're good company, Kepner. And uh, this is my truck, anyways." I said, clapping the bed of it.
April glanced, letting out a slight laugh. "I guess you really are Texan." She teased. "And you can call me April," she added.
"Guilty as charged." I threw up one hand in mock defense. "Have a good rest of your night, April. And let me know if you ever need anything around the city."
"Thanks," she smiled once more, before adding on an afterthought. "Oh! You should have the autopsy report on your desk by Monday morning. I had Hunt stay and run a few more tests. But… Monday morning. I'll make sure that it gets there." She smiled at me once more before moving to the driver's seat of the car, pausing and glancing back at me with a smile, then getting in.
I follow suit and get int he front seat of my own truck, waiting until she had backed out of her parking spot and drove away. I turn on my radio to a low volume, mostly wanting some background noise. Two beers and I'm pretty much just as sober as I had been walking in after long conversation. But it had been a good conversation.
Maybe homicide wasn't going to be all bad.