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Bella
Monday, May 30, 2022
Seattle, Washington
Focus on your case. Focus on your case. Focus…
Stealing a glance at the clock on the wall behind the register, I force my mind to pay attention to Mr. Newland as he tells me in excruciatingly slow detail how his liquor store doesn't have any cameras and that back in his day, integrity worked better than any security system.
Based on his antiquated thought process, it's no shock this is the second time this month he has been robbed. The perpetrator always came after hours and cleared about three hundred dollars worth of alcohol. There was never any damage, which made solving the case fairly simple.
It hadn't been hard to figure out that an angry ex-employee who still had a key was breaking in. I'd brought in the employee and he confessed immediately. After processing was completed, I'd driven back out to Mr. Newland's liquor store to let him know I had located the perpetrator and to suggest he change his locks.
Mr. Newland has not stopped ranting since.
"This neighborhood used to be nice, you know? It was good… fathers providing for their families, wives knew their place inside the home…"
He lets out a long sigh, and I have to take even breaths to calm the immediate anger his words are stirring in me.
His eyes flicker to me. "Are you married yet?"
My jaw clicks. "If that's all sir," I say, refusing to answer him. He ignores me.
"Better not wait too long. You don't want your eggs going to waste. I'm sure there are plenty of men who'd be happy to take care of you."
His words grate on me, and I have to curl my hands into fists to stop myself from showing my agitation.
"If you have any further questions, you can come down to the station," I say, moving to leave his shop. He nods.
"Thank you, young lady. You have a nice day."
I cannot answer him as I stalk out, pushing the door open as quickly as I can.
Outside, I suck in deep breaths, trying to steady myself. I have nothing against women who choose the life Mr. Newland has described, but that's the fucking point.
They choose it.
It's not like I'm not used to being talked down to. I'm one of only a handful of women in the precinct, and some of my colleagues think it's funny to talk to me the way Mr. Newland just has. Their harassment is a pain in the ass, but mostly manageable.
I just keep my head down and keep working. I'm determined to prove to everyone how capable I am.
By the time I make it back to my car, I've mostly calmed down again. I consider heading back to the precinct when I remember the call that came in about the body in Puget Park.
I'm not far from there, and though it's generally frowned upon to drop in on someone else's investigation, I can't help it.
Starting my car, I head toward the park.
As expected, most of it is barricaded. I flash my badge to a uniform and he waves me through, directing me where to park. I park near the exit, in case I need to make a quick getaway, and then head in toward the CSI techs.
My eyes sweep the park as I walk. It's decently forested, but it's also frequently used. It's hard to imagine that anything buried here wouldn't resurface soon enough.
I take note of the few small vehicle paths designated for ranger use. Though it's unlikely to turn up anything, I make a mental note that it'll be worth checking them to see if there are any unexpected tread marks left over.
As I walk further toward the crime scene, I spot Detective Cullen speaking with the head crime scene investigator, Carmen Denali, and my mouth goes dry. Two of the best minds in the department… I really shouldn't be here.
But despite the small voice in the back of my head telling me to walk away, I inch forward.
Detective Cullen is a tall man, but when he's processing a scene, he's lithe, moving fluidly around the area without disrupting anything. I watch him as his eyes flicker over the remains, and I can see him making a mental inventory of visible injuries. I see his eyes sweep the ground around her before turning back to the body.
I can almost hear his mind working, collecting those little pieces of the scene that sometimes seem so inconsequential, but turn out to be signs to something greater.
Years of experience, of sharpened intuition and practiced patience, color his observations, and I can see them all playing across his face.
I want to be that good.
I wait until he's talking to Denali before I move in, taking in what I can. The corpse is badly decomposed and the parts of her that are visible are covered in dirt and debris. I crouch down, taking in the details of her. It's gruesome, and if I let myself actually process what I am seeing, I don't think I'll be okay. But I force myself to compartmentalize, and doing so helps me see the facts.
I try to take in as much as I can from the environment, trying to see it how a killer might see it.
Several yards away, I realize that Detective Cullen and all the other officers on the scene are gathering. I take advantage of being the only one left examining the crime scene and try to take in a bit more.
It looks like there are a few clean lacerations on her neck, and I make a mental note that she might have been garroted. Coupled with the fact that she's naked…
Power.
The word rings in my head and I swallow hard.
It's a motive that makes me angry at a soul-deep level. I have to stop and breathe for a few minutes just to calm down again.
Once I'm calm, I take a final sweep of the scene before standing upright. When I look up, I see Detective Cullen has dismissed the rest of the officers, and I suddenly remember I'm not supposed to be here. I feel his eyes on me as I steal one final glimpse at the body, wanting to leave before Captain catches wind of my appearance at a scene without clearance. I take the opportunity to duck out, heading back to my car. It's a risky move, coming to someone else's crime scene. It could be seen as stepping on some pretty important toes, and that's the last thing I want.
I get my car started and head back toward the precinct, remembering that I still have paperwork to finish on my assigned case.
…
I'm busy working at my desk trying to finish the paperwork on the B case when I sense a shadow fall over me. I look up to see Captain Black standing by my desk, his dark eyes hard and serious.
"My office," he growls.
My stomach plummets. I immediately know what this is about. I should have never gone to that crime scene.
I stand from my desk, making sure to save the documents I'm working on before following the Captain to his office. Though he's not made a spectacle about it, I can feel everyone's eyes on me as we walk.
I have to fight to make sure I'm still standing straight, that I'm showing no outward signs of my anxiety.
I can't let them see me flinch.
Captain Black and I enter his office, and he motions for me to close the door. It's fairly pointless. Captain Black's voice is so deep that it often carries right through his closed door and out into the bullpen. I take a deep breath, but push it shut, turning back to him.
He stands behind his chair for a moment before looking at me.
"What do you think you were doing?"
"Sir?" I ask, unwilling to quite own up to anything yet.
Captain Black's eyes narrow. "Did I assign you the body in Puget Park?"
I swallow hard.
"No, sir."
"Were you asked to come in by the lead detective?"
My fingers are curled so tight into fists, I can feel them biting into my palms.
"No, sir."
Captain Black sighs and pulls his chair out, collapsing into it. "You're smart, Swan. You're a good cop and you're going to be a fine detective one day," he pauses, looking up at me. "But not if you pull shit like this."
I take a careful breath. "I'll apologize to Detective Cullen for encroaching on his crime scene," I say, my voice stiff.
Captian shakes his head. "Cullen didn't report you, but it's worth apologizing to him anyway." He looks at me. "You're smarter than this, Bella."
It's disarming when he calls me by my name.
I've known Captain Black my whole life; he and my dad were friends growing up, even served in the army together. It was Captain Black who hired me as a civilian admin support while I was in college. That job filing during nights and weekends gave me an inside look at the precinct and sealed my fate for me. Nepotism might have gotten me started, but everything I've done since that first job has been through my own blood, sweat, and tears.
Usually, Captain doesn't acknowledge the history we have together while we're at work. He doesn't single me out, doesn't offer me any special advantages. As far as all my coworkers are concerned, Captain Black is my commanding officer and nothing more.
His heavy gaze is making me feel nervous, and I have to stop myself from squirming.
"I know I have something to offer," I say quietly. "I know I can help."
His large fingers drum the desk. "The only way to prove it is the hard way," he says after a moment. "You've got to put in the work, just like everyone else has."
I can't help the glare I shoot him. "I am."
He shakes his head. "Don't bite my head off, kid. I know you are. You're doing good work, your clearance record is outstanding. It'll only be a matter of time until you're covering homicides."
I know he's right, but waiting has been excruciating.
"I don't want to hear anyone else bitch about you stepping on toes, you got me?"
I meet his dark gaze and nod. "Yes, sir."
He stares at me a moment before nodding. "Good, get out of here."
I nod to him once more in acknowledgment before I turn to open his office door. I step out and collide immediately with none other than Detective Cullen.
My hands go up reflexively, as do his, and for a second, his hands wrap around my forearms as we try to steady ourselves.
When we realize it, we both let go, clearing our throats. "Detective Cullen," I say, looking up at him. "I owe you an apology."
His eyes remind me of the evergreens outside, and I watch as a question filters through them.
"I shouldn't have come uninvited to your crime scene," I say, feeling my stomach curl as I apologize. "I'm sorry for my unprofessionalism."
He takes a moment to stare at me before he slowly nods. "Thank you," he says, his voice low.
I take a deep breath and step to the side to scoot past him. "Out of curiosity," he says, stopping me. I turn to look at him. "What are your thoughts?"
My lungs constrict in surprise, and I feel my mouth go dry. He wants my thoughts on his crime scene?
I search his face for signs this might be a trick, but he looks honest and genuine, so I nod.
"It's a dump site," I start. "It's an active site, not that remote at all. If he really wanted to hide a body, there are thousands of acres of forest in this state. He was either in a hurry, wanted the body discovered quickly, or wanted somewhere he could revisit to relive the murder."
Detective Cullen's eyebrows raise slightly, but I'm on a roll. It is such a relief to finally be heard, that I can't hold back.
"There are a few young women missing from small communities north of here. I couldn't get a good look at the girl's face, but she looked like she could be a possible match for a missing girl from Port Townsend. Bree Tanner. She's been missing for three months."
Detective Cullen's eyebrows pull together in thought. "I'll look into her."
I nod.
"Anything else, Detective?"
I stare at him, debating on how much to reveal. He looks patient, still willing to listen, so I take a deep breath and nod.
I meet his gaze as I speak. "Based on the efficiency I saw, I don't think this is his first kill. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if there is at least one other body out there, waiting to be discovered."
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