Silence Can Be Deadly...
It was many hours later when Arizona coasted into her assigned parking space within the confines of a parking garage. The expression "night owl" didn't begin to describe the kinds of hours that her job had her keeping on a regular basis. Enough hours that they had began bleed together... hours into days... of so many months and cases that numbered in the hundreds...but each one was a puzzle , a trap, a chance...a life taken at the wrong time, or if you believed in destiny ...maybe each was meant to be .
But it's harder to think that your destiny is a violent death...except for Arizona...she was sure her's was meant to be exactly that..if her nightmares were any glimpse into the future. She quickly scanned the interior of her company sedan, careful to leave nothing behind, just in case she had any unwanted visitors. Her boot heels clicked on the concrete in the wee hours of the morning.
Quickly, she entered the elevator to the posh high rise. The kind with multiple feet of clear glass, cold steel, and a man with a gun at the reception desk. Her loft was modern, and simple. The furniture inside was varying shades of black, gray and white...hi tech shapes more for functionality than comfort. Arizona threw her keys in the bowl, hung her PD issued pistol on the rack above, and ignored the pile of unopened mail.
As she sauntered into the kitchen, what had appeared to be the leg of her black leather couch unfolded and stretched, arching its back into complex shapes, and then wisped its tail along the back of Arizona's calves.
"Hey Max"...(which was short for Maxine and the only viable female companionship Arizona would keep around)...I know , sorry this was a late one, but that'll make this taste even better"...as she topped off Max's bowl with soft, gourmet feline food.
She uncapped a beer and slid down into the couch...she had drank half before Max jumped up, and curled into the indentation of her body already fast asleep. It was rare that she slept dreamless...Arizona woke with a start several hours later to find the early morning sunlight was streaming in through the blinds. She grabbed her phone which surprisingly had remained silent and saw it was 7:30.
She had followed the guy in the Surburban last night, and he had led her to a different part of town than he normally frequented. Unfortunately, she had lost him inside a private club. But, she would see him again...she had some contacts on the south side that said that Benny had done time with a serial child molestor that had recently been released in the neighborhood. This guy must have shared some stories with his bunkmate.
St. Paul's Cathedral had reported suspicious activity after letting their pupils out early afternoon, many walked home within the several miles of the local neighborhood. One small boy reported a Caucasian male, early thirties tried to offer him a ride home and when he denied the need of one... the man became insistent..the boy ran off and told his parents, and now they were on high alert.
Her phone rang and she didn't need to answer to know it was Webber. His gruff voice rang out..."I hope you're ready for a helluva day...a homicide just came across the wire...forensics is waiting on you now at 156 N Dearborn St...young girl found murdered by someone out walking their dog...naked and bound."
"Headed out sir, thanks for heads up... Her stomach tightened ….there was never enough of these cases to make you immune to the feeling, all she could do was deliver justice...albeit it was never swift enough.
As her black sedan pulled near the crime scene, Arizona saw a crowd had already formed around the victim. Police cars, ambulance, and various crime scene workers were all skirting around the ominous, yellow tape. She pushed through the crowd and began to survey the details of her next case. Her eyes roamed briefly over the young girl's body, after years of this job she had learned to only focus on taking in all the clinical signs of homicide.
The victim's arms were bound behind her back with a type of black cable tie, her hands and forearms had lacerations consistent with defense wounds. Her neck already bore the hematomas of death by strangulation, mottled varying shades of red, blue, and purple. Her inner thighs had the same trauma markings of a forceful entry. Her team was already prepping and gathering information.
"I want a rape kit , make sure to get under the fingernails, and dust for fingerprints...let's hope this asshole got sloppy this time.", She barked out orders.
Arizona's mind whirled as the other detective on the case began to run down the details, how long ago had the body been dumped here, who did he suggest we start to run as potential threats to the good citizens of this neighborhood. What loser preys on pre-teen Catholic school girls...She had a good idea where to start.
