Chapter 1

The heavy pounding on the door woke Sofia from her uneasy slumber. She groaned as she opened her eyes slowly. The shafts of light poking through the drawn curtains hurt her eyes. Her head was thumping and her throat was dry. She sat up gingerly and looked around to gather her bearings. The layout of the bedroom was familiar and she was relieved to see she had at least made it home last night. Her recollection of the preceeding night was sketchy. She remembered the bar and the whiskeys but the rest of it was a blur. This was the culmination of a rough few days.

Sofia tried to retrace her movements. She had been working a murder case involving Vegas businessman Leon Traynor, a property speculator. He had a knack for buying up old rundown neighbourhoods and redeveloping them into hip, respectable city quarters. He also had a very profitable drug business and used his property ventures to clean his dirty money. Sofia dealt with the fallout of his off-the-books activity every day on the Vegas streets.

She had a solid case against Traynor; a woman was found strangled in his hotel room, CCTV footage had placed them together for much of the night and there was physical evidence which linked him to the crime. The woman in question, Tracy Jones, was his girlfriend. They had a fight, he found out she had an affair and he killed her where she stood. The case should have been open and shut, but the DNA evidence, which was crucial for his conviction, was deemed inadmissible by the judge. That decision undermined the whole trial and Traynor walked free. Sofia was furious, she had spent weeks methodically building the investigation, she wanted to be sure it would go the distance. But presiding Judge Alder had put paid to that plan on a minor legal point and Traynor had just gotten away with murder. She was sure Traynor had influenced the judge somehow and she didn't hold back those thoughts. She accused Judge Alder of corruption at a very public press conference. That outburst had earned her a date with Sheriff Mobley.

"What in the hell were you thinking Curtis?" bellowed the Sheriff. "You've put yourself in contempt of court."

"Sir I..." started Sofia.

"Have you got any evidence to support your accusations?" continued Mobley.

"No Sir, not exactly, but..." replied Sofia.

"Well you've put me in one hell of a situation," said the Sheriff. "How do you think this is going to end?"

"Sir, if you just let me explain," pleaded Sofia.

"Save it. There's nothing you can say now that'll make a difference," replied Mobley. "I'm suspending you without pay for two weeks. Leave your gun and your badge on my desk."

"You can't do this," argued Sofia.

"Get out of here before I make it four weeks," roared the Sheriff.

"Yes Sir," replied Sofia, shoulders slumped.

Sofia reluctantly handed over her badge and gun and made her way out of the office. Jim Brass was outside waiting for her as she exited.

"You okay?" asked Brass softly.

Sofia sighed.

"I got a two-week suspension," she replied glumly.

"You'll get through this," said Brass.

"I've just ruined my career," said Sofia scornfully. "I don't think I'll ever recover from this."

"Just let things blow over, once the dust settles this will all be forgotten about," said Brass.

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before asking, "Need a ride?"

"Thanks Jim, I'm fine," replied Sofia. "I'm just gonna go home."

"Okay, you take care of yourself," said Brass.

Sofia nodded and made her way out of the building. She drove around aimlessly for a few hours. Eventually she found herself outside a bar. She quickly decided that a drink would help so she wasted no time, parked her car and strode through the door. The interior was dingy and dimly lit with torn upholstery. She pulled up a stool and looked around. The place was almost empty. There was a man sitting at the opposite end of the counter watching a football game on tv. There were two other guys playing pool at the back. All heads turned when she entered and she could sense them throwing occasional glances in her direction. But she wasn't here to cause trouble so she simply ignored them.

"Whiskey, straight up," said Sofia gesturing at the unkempt barman while making herself comfortable.

He stared at her briefly before pouring a glass and setting it on the counter. Sofia leaned on the counter with both elbows before grabbing the glass and downing it in one gulp.

"Same again," she said.

The barman eyed her suspiciously but poured a second glass. She drank this one more slowly and chased it down with a bottle of beer. And so she spent the next few hours hoping the whiskey would do the trick and drown away the bitterness she felt steadily brewing inside her. What had happened in that courtroom made her question her whole purpose as a cop. What good was it risking her own safety to chase down these thugs if they could just turn around and buy off the law makers. And to top it all off the Sheriff had made an example of her all because she stood up against this injustice. For a fleeting moment she wondered if he was complicit in this perversion but she brushed those thoughts aside. The Sheriff was a political animal, more interested in his own profile than in getting his hands dirty. Sofia mulled over the case and the trial and resolved to get Traynor. If he committed one murder you could be sure he committed others. She'd been studying other homicides as part of her preparations for the trial and she had uncovered circumstantial evidence to link him to other crimes. She decided that once her two weeks was up she would investigate those cases in more detail. Something was bound to turn up and then she'd have him.

That was Sofia's last conscious memory until she woke suddenly in her own bed with the mother of all hangovers. The persistent banging on the front door brought her back from her ruminations and she decided to investigate who was there. But first she made her way to the bathroom and splashed cold water across her face. She gasped as the refreshing liquid cleansed her sore eyes and dry skin. She towel-dried her face and then reached into the cabinet for some pain killers before downing them with a mouthful of water. Then she put on jeans and a vest and shuffled through the apartment towards the banging door. She unlocked it sleepily. No sooner was the door opened than she was rushed by several burly men. They grabbed her arms behind her back and wrestled her to the floor. They pinned her down roughly and cuffed her wrists. Sofia was startled and confused and cried out. Behind them a man in a dark suit walked through the threshold. Sofia craned her neck to try to see what was happening.

"What the hell is this?" she demanded, trying to disguise the desperation in her voice.

"LVPD!" replied the dark-suited man. "Detective Sofia Curtis, you're under arrest."

"Under arrest?" cried Sofia. "On what charge?"

"Murder," came Dark Suit's abrupt reply. "Take her away."