Pushing on. Can't stop now.
I relive. I remember. It sticks and it stays
All this time spent alone recapping the days
Pace myself - Push myself
Pushing on - I'm all I've got
No Warning, "Pushing On"
Document after document, file after file, and still that brick wall remained that completely ceased progress. There was something missing within this case, something that Christina was sure she was overlooking. As much as she told herself that she needed rest and to start eating better, she hadn't been listening to her own suggestions. She was nearly on day three now of little food and less rest, unable to let the case go beyond her two week quota. Sometimes she set herself up for disappointment, but it's what made her work harder than most on the force. If it hadn't been for Vincent noticing this, she would have never made it as far as she did.
Safe to say there was one person that didn't like her progress in the least.
"Daniels, do you have that file yet? I've been waiting for a half hour."
Her own partner.
Sighing heavily, Christina tipped her head up, looking over the rim of her reading glasses, then pulling them off she placed them aside, rubbing her eyes slowly. She hated those things and dearly wished that her prescription contacts were ready. "What happened to your copies, Charlotte?" Arching her back, she folded her arms over her cardigan raising a brow at the woman that took up most of the doorway with her lofty height.
"I left them at home," Charlotte gave a slow shrug and took to studying the French manicure that she had gotten just that morning before crossing her arms along her stomach and raising a coppery brow expectantly. Staring at her for a good minute or two, Christina heaved another sigh then collected the paper work to haphazardly shove into a manilla folder. "I'm heading over to the Crypt Keepers..."
"Why?" was asked before the sentence was finished.
After three years of working with the woman, Christina was used to that, and she simply went on as if she hadn't been interrupted. "To find out some more information. Something just isn't right. It feels like...well, never mind. Probably just the lack of sleep." Collecting her jacket and shrugging it on, she unplugged her cell phone from the wall to tuck it into her inner pocket. Winding the cord she placed it inside her satchel and hefted the strap to her shoulder. Scooping up the folder, she approached Charlotte to hand the files over. Luckily she could just go off of her notes and the mental images of the pictures.
"They've already checked over the body twice. Don't you think they would have found something else by now?" One white-tipped nail tucked beneath the lip of the folder to flip it open while she started moving down the hallway with Christina on her heels, grimacing at the back of her head.
"Probably, but you know me. I like to run over things with a fine toothed comb, then do it ten more times before I'm satisfied."
Charlotte only shrugged, and Christina shook her head at the woman's humdrum attitude toward this case. A woman had been murdered – beaten and murdered – and her partner acted as if she had better things to do with her time...like get another manicure. What happened with you, Charlotte? And why do I even care anymore? She knew why without giving it too much thought; she was getting the mule load of the work. While any other time she would have been grateful for the task, moving into her new home and getting it fixed up was proving to be more work than even she could handle.
"So...are you coming or what?" After all, we are a team. While Charlotte paused at the elevator, poking the button with the pad of a finger, she continued on to the stairs nearby and glanced over her shoulder to the woman.
"I think I'll pass. Thanks anyway." When the elevator reached the floor, the doors opened with a soft ding and the woman stepped inside. Another button pressed and the doors closed again, sparing Christina from standing another minute in that woman's presence.
She frowned at the unfeeling metal, absently regarding her blurred reflection in its surface. "Fine," she murmured and turned around, beginning her descent into the bowels of the department. A few flights later and she was pressing her way through a set of doubled doors, pausing briefly at the window in the brightly illuminated hallway to sign in.
"Hey, Jim. Is Melissa in?" Filling out her name and badge number, she turned the clipboard and pressed it back beneath the slot in the plexiglass. In all her years of working here she never figured out the use of that. It wasn't as if someone would hold the person behind the glass at gun point while their assistants stole bodies from storage. Then again...it was hard to say what people would do any more.
"Yeah, I think she's in the examination room." The bulky guard didn't bother doing a double check of the information, Christina was a regular 'visitor' when it came to her cases. "You're clear, go ahead." Buzzing her in she gave a wave of thanks to him and continued down the hallway. After taking a sharp left she nudged open a door and let it swing closed behind her with a soft hiss.
Immediately the stench resembling acidic, stagnant water swept into her nostrils and she grimaced. No matter how many times she had been here it was a smell she just couldn't get used to. It always reminded her of the decline in human society.
"You should start renting a room here."
Glancing over to the lab door across the room she smiled as her friend wandered in. Small of stature with dark skin, hair and eyes, Melissa was almost Christina's complete opposite. Making a few marks upon a clipboard she was carrying about, she tucked the pencil behind her ear and laid the board upon a nearby table. "Let me guess, James?" Already Melissa was going over to the storage unit, pulling a roll-away behind her.
"Read my mind. Where's Chavez?" Laying her satchel upon the table near the board, she watched the other woman as she put on her gloves then prepared the body for examination. Skin that was once a creamy white now tinged purplish-blue with death, save for about her neck where an angry gash laid among virulent bruises. Christina frowned. Cecilia James hadn't reached her mid twenties before her life was cut drastically short.
"He's on dinner break. Should be coming back soon."
A light grimace passed over the detective's mouth. "I don't know how you two can stay in here all night and be able to even fathom food."
"It's a talent," another voice piped in with a soft chuckle afterwards. "Evenin' Christina." Passing her with a wink he collected a pair of latex gloves, casually ignoring the suggestive glance that Melissa passed between he and the detective.
"Evening, Raoul." Eyeing her female friend she made a 'cut it' gesture across her throat, only causing Melissa to snicker softly. "I was wondering if you two could go over the findings again. I'm going to record this time. Easier than keeping notes." Gathering the mini-recorder from her satchel she checked the tiny cassette then moved closer to the examination table.
Raoul lifted a brow, glancing beyond Christina to the double doors then back to her. "Where's Charlotte?"
"Don't ask," Christina murmured faintly, shaking her head. "She had better things to do."
"Yeah, I bet," this time it was Melissa muttering. The two of them carefully lifted the victim's shoulders from the body bag and folded the thick black material beneath before laying her down again. "You two used to be good friends..."
"Used to be. She's just...changed in the last year." Shrugging lightly, she motioned with the recorder laden hand, changing subjects. "Go ahead, don't mind me." Hitting the button, the wheels upon the cassette began steadily turning.
"Alright..." Raoul nodded, slipping a penlight from his shirt pocket and gave a glance to Melissa. "I have this. Do you think you can check on those reports that we worked on last night?"
"You mean the reports we checked over when we first came in?" The woman smirked, pulling her gloves off carefully and dropping them in the waste. "Sure. I'll be in the lab."
Grunting once, he shrugged lightly, then clicked on the penlight before leaning forward. While he had done this exam once or twice before, he always found it best to continue on as if he was working on a new 'patient'. He shined the light upon the woman's eyes, gently touching around the socket with the tip of a finger. Once again Christina found herself unnerved at how similar Cecilia's pale blue eyes were to her own.
"There's some petechiael hemorrhaging behind the eyes, suggesting that there was some sort of strangulation." Passing the light down, he brushed his thumb against the front of her throat, right above the wound. "Broken hyoid bone." He then moved to the corner of the wound as he looked upon the rest of her neck.
"By the excoriation upon the skin," this mentioned as he motioned to the friction burn like abrasions. "It appears the assailant was wearing gloves. Finger span is difficult to determine, the bruising is far too extensive."
"And there were no other marks of struggling," she interrupted. Already knowing the answer, the question was simply given for recording purposes.
He glanced up to her briefly, then moved further down the body to turn the nearest arm slightly. "Not with her hands tied. See here...?" He gestured to the crossing, darker purple lines. "She was bound with something thin; wire, fishing line... Clothing line is too thick. Whatever it was, it cut into her skin."
Christina nodded, motioning him to continue.
Moving back up to the victim's throat, he passed the beam of light across the wound and untucked a slender pick from his pocket to be able to peel back the layers of skin and muscle. "The blade transected the jugular vein and both carotids, entering into the left with little collateral bruising to the skin." He paused a beat, frowning. "What I can tell, anyway. What's curious about this wound is that...where most would be shallow at the apex this one goes deeper."
"Yes, the blade shape. You said it was..."
"Curved," the both of them stated together, then Raoul went on: "Right. As if the back of the blade was used. If it was a straight blade, there would be more tearing at the edges. It almost seems ritualistic. By the spray pattern the attack was from behind. The fibers we found in her throat..."
"Whoa, what?" Christina jerked her head up, looking at him curiously. "What fibers?"
"We found some green fibers within the wound; carpet." Clicking off the light he slowly lifted a brow and tucked the light back into his pocket. "Charlotte...didn't tell you, did she?"
Why that little...mmf! "No... She didn't mention anything to me about fibers."
"Hijo de puta," groaning faintly, he placed the pick upon the table and removed his gloves then went off to the lab to find the paperwork that she needed. Once it was collected he returned to her, handing them over. "Here. I figured it would 'slip her mind' with how spaced she was during the examination the other night. I would have gotten to it you earlier, but... you know the hours us Keepers have, heh."
"I do... Thanks, Raoul. I can't believe..." Exhaling a heavy breath she shook her head, shutting off the recorder and returned it to her satchel along with the folder. "I'm going to go. I have to read these and catch up."
"Christina?"
Glancing over her shoulder she watched him as he opened his mouth to say something, only to close it again, then begin again with a smile across his lips. "You going to Vincent's retirement party tomorrow?"
"I don't know. I really don't. It's a big 'maybe'. Why?" Pulling the satchel over her shoulder she turned to face him.
He shrugged. "Just wondering."
"Right. Well...I'll see you later. Tell Mel I'll catch up with her. Night Raoul." Without much pause she turned around and made her way out of the room, leaving him watching the steady back and forth swing of the doors.
"Yeah...night," he grunted to empty air then started back to the lab, inwardly kicking himself for not saying what he wanted to.
Meanwhile, Christina was doing the same.
Side note: Probably don't matter much, but since most PoTO readers pronounce Raoul like "Rawl" this version is "Ra-ool". Yup, Hispanic!
