She tilted her head up a little, looked up at the Barn. They said it used to be a church. She could see the residue of a holy building; stained glass windows shimmered under the bright sunlight, depicting revelatory scenes that bought peace to some, war to others.

Taking off her shades she walked into the yard; it was empty save for one abandoned car. A Latino man in handcuffs was on the ground, struggling against a tall, broad officer who had one knee in the man's back.

"Sir, settle down!" a female officer implored him, holding his arm, trying to drag him up.

"Danny, I got this."

"I know. Sir, please, on your feet!"

Danny looked up and saw her. She acknowledged her with a nod, and the new girl held up her hand in response.

"It's not always like this," Danny said as the Latino man was finally pulled to his feet.

"I've seen worse." She replied with a smile.

She began to walk quickly because she knew they were on the move behind her.

Pushed through the outer doors and approached reception.

"I'm here to see Captain Wyms." She held up her badge and was waved through. One of the officers picked up the phone.

"Visitor for you, Captain Wyms." He put the phone down and pointed towards the inner sanctum of the station.

"She's on her way."

Walking in, she was hit by a wall of sweating heat. It was a hive of activity. Detectives buzzing around holding sheets of paper, taking calls on the telephone. Some seemed bound to their desks, pouring over photographs and statements. She felt her heart racing; this is why she was here. For the thrill of the chase. Then the slow piecing together of the jigsaw before finally you had your collar and were bold with satisfaction.

She stood by the doors that led into the office, watching, waiting.

Finally she was approached. It was Captain Wyms. She recognised her from the photos in the paper announcing her ascension to leader.

"I'm Captain Claudette Wyms," she said in a measured voice. There was a hint of a smile but nothing open; just a latent curiosity. Her arms were folded across her chest.

"It's so good to finally meet you. I'm Kate. Kate McGowan?" she offered, holding out her hand. Claudette looked at it, and then back at Kate's face.

"Ah, the new girl. You're early," Claudette said, and turned away, started to walk towards the staircase at the back. Kate guessed she was expected to follow, and she did, struggling to catch up with the fast moving captain.

"I like you already."

"Dutch, come in."

Detective Holland 'Dutch' Wagenbach stood at the door of Captain Wyms office. He looked at the two of them curiously; Claudette waved him in and slowly he strolled over to them.

"Claudette. You wanted to see me?"

"This is Kate. Kate McGowan. I've assigned her as your new partner."

"Your replacement?" he asked, looking from Claudette to Kate. Kate smiled tentatively; Dutch had his hands in his pockets and seemed to be waiting for either of them to speak. He made no moves to introduce himself.

"Indeed." Claudette gestured to Kate and Dutch held out his hand.

"This is Detective Wagenbach." Claudette said. He nodded.

"Where're you from?" was his first question.

"Just transferred from Hollywood Division."

"Oh yeah?" This seemed to pique his interest, and he sat down next to her.

"Traffic? Robbery?"

"Homicide," Kate said, nodding. He smiled; his face lit up.

"Interesting. McGowan, McGowan…you were involved in the Glockman case, right? Didn't you put forward the initial theory?"

"I played my part," Kate said. Dutch settled back in his chair.

"Much as I'm enjoying this mutual bonding, you two can continue this down in the Barn. I've got something for you," Claudette said, handing Dutch a pink slip of paper. He took it and looked down at it, his eyes skimming it quickly.

"Possible home invasion turned homicide on West and Grove."

He stood up, and Kate followed.

"Kate?" Claudette called as she was at the door. She turned back, walked over to Claudette.

"He's a good detective but more importantly, a good friend. Look out for him."

"Christ," Kate muttered, staring down at the body of Collette Ridley. She was slumped over on the floor, her hair matted with congealed blood. Part of her forehead had been emulsified and Kate could see patches of skull where the skin and flesh had been reduced to nothing.

Dutch stood beside her, surveying the scene. He rubbed his hand over his face.

"Home invasion that turned nasty?"

"Aren't home invasions nasty by nature anyway?"

"True," he said, and began to circle Collette.

"What are you thinking?"

Kate followed him round. Looked at the scene from every angle she could.

"She's been sat up. Look," she said, pointing at a thin, weeping trail of blood leading to the couch.

"See that photo above her head? Glass is broken but it's sitting there well positioned…where it's meant to be. Like it's been put back. Suggests a sentimentality."

"I like it," Dutch said walking back around more quickly this time. She could feel his energy building; his long legs propelled him at speed as he wrung his hands.

"That would fit with no broken doors or window. ME can clear this, let's head back to the Barn and start phoning round."

They walked back to the car and Kate climbed into the passenger seat.

"You've got good instincts."

Kate pulled her seatbelt and popped it into place as Dutch started the engine.

"Years of practice."

"How long you been in the job?"

"Nine years."

"Goodness, only had you down as a baby."

"I'm an experienced detective," Kate said quietly, watching the streets of Farmington pass her by. Men stood on street corners, cars honked their horns in frustration, music blared from every building, mingling and creating a new rhythm, one that was unique to the place.

"Oh, I know," Dutch said. "I just had you down as young."

"Twenty nine is young," Kate said. Dutch smiled.

"Wait 'til you hit thirty. That's when your back starts to creak when you bend down

and you put the salt in the fridge and the milk in the cupboard."

"Oh, I can't wait."

Soon they were back at the station, striding in and heading to Dutch's desk. Kate stood next to it; bare, a new canvas ready for her to make her mark on it.

"She's got two daughters and an Aunt living in the area. I'll phone them, you call in her phone records. Computer's over there," Dutch instructed. He sat down in his chair, pen in his mouth, and opened the case file.

Kate followed to where he was pointing. There was an elderly- looking computer pushed up against a pillar. She walked up to it and shook the mouse. It froze and she waited as the screensaver disappeared, melting into the database search page. She began to type Collette's name. She could hear footsteps all around her. Phones ringing. The jingle of the cage as agitated prisoners let their fury be known.

"S'cuse me," a voice said from behind her. She heard feet stopping. It was a he; and this he sounded familiar. Her stomach lurched.

"When you're done can you give me a heads up?"

She didn't want to turn around. Because she knew if she did, she would see Curtis Lemansky standing there and in truth, she couldn't be sure how she would react.

"Hey?" he pushed. Kate closed her eyes, took a breath. Turned her face around a little.

"Sure."

He hesitated, and she heard the confusion in his voice when he finally spoke.

"I'm Curtis Lemansky. You're new?"

She typed the 'y' of Ridley and hit the enter key to print. Gripping the edge of the computer desk, she forced herself to turn around.

Curtis' eyes widened a little as he took in this face he knew so well. If he was surprised, then she was utterly shell-shocked. The last person she had expected to see here was Curtis; hell, she had even asked around and been told that he didn't work at Farmington anymore. Her breathing came a little faster. She waited for him to speak.

"Kate. What are you doing here?"

"I just transferred from Hollywood."

"Oh. You're Dutch's new partner?"

She nodded and turned around. Picked up the printout of Collette's phone records and stepped aside.

"It's all yours," she said, and walked away.