It was nighttime as we approached Addison, with the slow limo lugging behind at the highway. Stupid car.
"Remind me to get rid of this thing and buy a McLaren P1." I scoffed, boredily looking at the streetlights passing us by.
Jason rolled his eyes, his snow white hair blown off of his eyes, as if he didn't want to hear me complain. But I'm his boss. So I don't give a shit.
"I thought ladies sat still?" He asked mockingly, but I folded my arms.
"If I wanted to act like a 'lady', I'd go to Kimberly." I announced, slightly annoyed.
After a minute of brief silence, he looked towards me.
"Can you give me a recap of the crime scene?" He asked me, and I laughed.
"You don't need to know. Just do your job, like we agreed." I answered, brushing my auburn hair into a long ponytail.
His face stayed the same, "But I would help you better if I actually knew how the victim died." He threw facts into my face, which I didn't like.
I sighed, hanging my head in defeat.
"You can go to the crime scene and see it yourself." I answered, trying to hide the fact that I left my files at home.
Jason shrugged, "Fine with me."
As we pulled up to a darkened field, I saw the brightness of the sirens across the plantation, and we soon met up with the other homicide detectives.
"Evening, officers." I greeted them emptily, and the two detectives looked at me like I wasn't supposed to be there.
The skinny, younger one looked at me, and turned to the other, who was short and burly, but quite elderly.
"Excuse me, girl, but you need to go home." Does he even see the limo behind me?
"On the contrary," I started, pulling out my badge,
"Luca Billins. I'm working on this mission as well." I could see the skinny one's eyes widened, and the elderly one coughed awkwardly.
"Now can I see the scene?" I asked impatiently, and the elder stepped out of my way.
"Right away, Miss Billins. I'm officer Garter, and this is officer Neveto." He addressed himself and the skinny detective. I stepped forward to examine the crime scene.
Normally, for any starting detective, seeing a brutally murdered corpse in the middle of a field is a red flag for a job change. But despite this being my second job, I didn't even blink.
Right in front of me was a young man, most likely in his early to late twenties, with a well-built body, clad in a bloody Lincoln Park concert shirt, most likely stabbed. I sighed, as this didn't show any signs of being in my 'genre' of criminal searchings.
"So what happened here?" Jason asked merrily as he approached me from behind, and I turned away.
"This man has been out here for a few days, already decomposing." I looked at the empty patches of flesh on his skull.
"Looks as if stabbed, nothing else." I sighed in disappointment, but then Jason stepped towards the corpse, in which I followed.
"What does he smell like?" I asked him, and he sniffed loudly, to humor me.
"Honestly, he still has a faint smell of alcohol." He answered, and I put on my gloves, prepared to search the corpse.
While studying the body, I noticed that his arm was folded being his back.
Pulling the arm out, I nearly cried at the horrific smell of blood and mold, and stood back, noticing something very peculiar.
"His hand is missing." I told Jason, and he looked at me, perplexed.
Officer Neveto stepped in, "Maybe the assailant just stabbed him and cut off his hand trying to kill him." What a stupid answer.
"Maybe, but this is a clean cut. No bones sticking out, as if the person wanted to take it in the first place." I answered, and Jason cleared his throat.
"You might want to look at this." He called to me, and I walked towards him, where he was in front of the man's stomach.
"A few of his organs are missing. Both kidneys, and a liver." He acknowledged, and I pressed my face closer to him, so the officers don't overhear.
"So who do you think it was?" I asked in a hush tone. Jason looked at the corpse.
"I think it might've been a witch. Vampires only go after blood, not organs. Witches are cannibals, no less. That might explain the missing organs. But the hand…" He mumbled, and I stepped in.
"Do they need it for alchemy?" I asked, and he scoffed.
"Witches rarely even use alchemy anymore. They've probably changed with the rest of the world by now." He answered, and I rolled my eyes.
"'Probably'?" I questioned, and he shrugged.
"I'm not a witch, so I really have no idea how they've adapted to modern society." He confessed, but I didn't give up.
"But you're the next best thing." I called to him, and I began to take off the corpse's shirt.
I saw the detectives run over to me.
"What are you doing? We need that for evidence!" Officer Garter shouted, and I glared at him.
"And I've been wanting a new shirt." I coldly mocked, "I'm just taking this for a DNA sample." I told him, and he nodded, but still rattled.
"You two take the body for an autopsy." I ordered, and they looked at each other, having a facial conversation.
As I finished removing the shirt, I examined the wound.
"The wound is about eight inches tall, and two inches wide." I acknowledged, and I stood up, legs cramping from squatting.
I turned to the detectives, "See if you two can figure out what the weapon was." I called, and opened the limo door, with Jason right behind me.
As soon as we started driving, I threw the shirt to him. As it landed on his face, he angrily pulled it away.
"Can you find the location?" I asked him, and he glared at me.
"I'm not a dog." He growled, and I laughed.
"Just do what I'm paying you for." I ordered, and he sighed, and gently sniffed the shirt.
As soon as he did, his eyes widened, and he threw it to me.
"There's some silver in his cloth." He told me, and I dug through it, to find the silver only inches away from the cut.
"You think it was a knife?" I asked him, and he shrugged.
"But knifes wouldn't break like that." He answered, and I unfolded my glasses from my purse, examining the silver.
"This silver looks pretty old. Maybe it was used too much." I predicted, and Jason shrugged.
But despite another clue, I still didn't get an answer to my question.
"Did you find a location?" I asked again, and he nodded.
I know the murderer lived near that field. I could smell the same metal nearby." He answered.
"Good. We'll stop by tomorrow to continue, and hopefully those two idiots will be gone by then." I prayed, and slumped in my seat.
I opened a drawer, and got out a tissue, which I wrapped around the metal, and put it in my pocket.
It wasn't long until I could hear a loud grumbling coming from Jason's stomach. Damn vampires are so loud.
Opening the freezer next to me, I tossed him a juice box.
"There's your apple juice." I called, and instead of looking offended, he projected his fangs out, and stabbed the plastic box, before he started sucking the insides.
As we pulled up to the house, I opened the door, sick of the car smell, and went inside.
"I'm home!" I echoed throughout the large hallway, and Harriet, our maid, appeared from the kitchen.
"Welcome home, Luca." She called, and I nodded, and walked inside, Jason following after.
"Luca!" I heard Kimberly call through the halls, until I saw her up on the staircase, her strawberry blonde hair wrapped in a messy bun, with baby blue overalls and sandals, with a striped blue T-shirt.
She ran down the stairs to hug me, and I patted her head, trying to calm her down.
"Overalls? At seventeen?" I asked, and she nodded in embarrassment.
"I was working on my portfolio." She answered shyly, looking at Jason.
"So how was your first case?" She asked me, eager to know.
"Exhausting." I answered, and she nodded, and turned towards Jason.
"I bet you've been working hard, too. Right Jason?" She asked him, and he nodded sweetly.
"Why yes, thank you for asking." He answered politely, and she blushed, before walking with him to the kitchen.
"I think we all deserve some sleep." I called, and Kimberly nodded, with Jason as well, though I know he was lying.
As I walked into the kitchen, I dove into the pantry, searching for a pastry.
"Kim, did we run out of danishes?" I asked her, and she called back.
"I think Dad ate the last one!" She said, with a hint of guilt in her voice. Of course, blame it on Dad.
"I can make you some, Miss." Harriet called to me, but I shook my head.
"I'm okay. I'll just go to bed." I answered, before leaving the kitchen, and into my own room.
Changing from my dress shirt and skirt, I put on a tank top with baggy yoga pants, before slipping into bed, where Marguerite was laying on the bed.
Holding the doll close, I soon drifted to sleep.
I woke up with a clang of the windows being thrown open, and I grabbed my handgun from my nightstand, and turned around, to see Jason on a ladder.
"What the hell are you doing?" I whispered, and he frowned.
"As the butler of this family, I need to make sure that everything is secure. And you forgot to lock your window." He told me, although I knew he only wanted to agitate me.
"Just go to bed or I'll shoot you." I spat at him, and he shrugged.
"I'd like to see you try." But closed the windows, and I resumed which would probably be the only good night of sleep I'd ever get.
