Two

It was 2:30 am.

And Sam still hadn't come home.

It was disappointing, but not surprising. The married couple had taken turns ignoring each other, even taking conflicting shifts. Maybe the distance was something they needed, but damn it, Leah hadn't to tell Sam about her night at LaPush. She wanted to give him a heads up about tomorrow, which for sure, would be a complete shit-show.

But would Sam pick up the phone? Maybe? Maybe not? Damn it; she didn't know. Sometimes, lately, the man was the embodiment of mixed messages. He had always been that kind of person, but Leah had been convinced she could handle that side of him—everyone had their flaws, including her.

She didn't know what he wanted from her. Forgiveness? Acceptance? Denial? Or maybe just simple resignation? Just act as if nothing had happened? Did he want a divorce? Did she?

The thought had crossed her mind; she had even googled how to initiate the process, but couldn't bring herself to proceed further. She couldn't give up. Not yet. Not until she received an explanation. Maybe there was a story behind this insanity—

She had put almost eight years into this marriage. She couldn't give up.

"Marriage is a commitment," Sue had told her daughter a couple of weeks ago, the day after Leah had given her the upsetting news. She had invited Leah over for a light Saturday lunch. "It's not something to take lightly from beginning to end."

"A monogamous commitment," Leah had almost snapped back. It hadn't been fair to lash at the other woman sitting across from her, but Leah couldn't suppress the feeling of utter frustration and anger boiling in her guy.

"Yes," Sue had said in a calm, leveled voice. "But it's up to you to decide if you're willing to work things out. We've all made mistakes."

"But he—" Leah had stopped herself. She hadn't informed her mother about Emily; doing so, too soon, would've been counterproductive. Her family had enough drama. "I don't know what I want," she had admitted. "Sometimes, I want to throttle him. sometimes, I just want to…" She had dropped her gaze to her lap. "I don't know."

"You know what I think would help?" Sue had offered. "Marriage counseling."

Marriage counseling.

Sue had meant well; she always had, but Leah didn't need counseling. She just needed Sam to be honest with her. Why Emily? Why would he cheat on his loyal, loving wife with her goddamn cousin? Her blood?

"Leah."

Ah, there he was.

Leah placed her magazine on the bedside table and looked up at her husband. She was defiant, ready to fight, determined to speak her mind, but she found herself unable to form the right words.

What the hell was he doing here? Leah already had it all planned out; he was supposed to spend the night at her place, like he did last night (and the night before), and not see come back until… fuck, Leah didn't know. But no, he was inside his apartment, standing under the threshold to their bedroom, staring down at his wife sitting on the bed with an expectant look on his face.

Leah lifted an eyebrow.

Was she supposed to say something?

Sam had thought so. He ran a hand through his short dark hair, expression mixed with annoyance and confusion.

But what words would make anything better? Should Leah bring up the previous, unresolved argument? Ask him Sam about Emily? About him?

This wasn't the time for a heart-filled conversation. It was half-past midnight; sleep was behind Leah's eyes. The sight of the poor woman lying on the bloody floor, in pieces, still plagued her mind.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. "So, I see we're back to the silent treatment…"

Leah's gaze hardened. He had no right. What the hell did he want? For them to engage in yet another late-night shouting match? To attract even more attention of the neighbors? To get their goddamn coworkers called on them?

She took a deep, controlled breath with hopes quelling any desires to toss an alarm clock at her husband's face.

Sam just huffed and left.

Motherfucker.

"You have to talk to him," Jacob told her a couple of days later. "This silent treatment can't last forever."

Leah finished the last of her unsatisfying coffee and dropped the empty cup in the cold holder. "I don't have to do shit."

Jacob was right. Of course, he was right— For the life of her, Leah couldn't determine how or rather when Jacob had become her official venting-partner. A few weeks ago, she hadn't wanted to say a damn word, but now, she couldn't imagine not speaking to him about her issues.

(This could be a problem in the long-run, Leah decided. Jacob Black did not join the police department to become his partner's pseudo-shrink.)

"Leah, you cannot go with this," Jacob persisted as he pulled into the Cook County Court's parking lot. It was eight in the morning, two hours before the pair were scheduled to testify at a murder trial.

"I think we need to focus on our testimony," Leah said, leaving no room for debate. Honestly, she wasn't too concerned about getting on the stand. It was a slam-dunk case that, for some reason, did not involve a plea deal. The man did it.

Jacob emitted a sound of absolute frustration before turning off the car. He wouldn't fight her on this now, but that did mean he wouldn't ask his partner about at the end of the day. Unfortunately for him, Leah would give him the same answer.

Leah would finally take Jacob's advice the following night.

She decided during her ride home from work that she would have to be one to break the silence. Push aside her fears and get to the bottom of this bullshit. If she didn't speak up, Sam wouldn't; he could be just as stubborn as she could—fuck, she wished it wasn't the case. This wasn't her conversation to have. He should be the one on his knees, begging her for forgiveness, offering the world, and then some. Why did she have to be the goddamn adult?

"Why her?" Leah asked after her husband walked to through the front door, tossing his coat to the side, shrugging off his suit jacket. "Tell me," she demanded, watching Sam loosen his tie, tongue-tied. She didn't give him time to speak. "You could've been with anyone." Her voice cracked as she fought the tears. "But why would you choose her?"

Sam gulped; his eyes turned distant with a hint of regret. It was something, but not enough. "It's complicated," he said.

Leah had to let out a humorless laugh. "Bullshit."

"Leah, don't start. Not at this time of—"

Leah shot both hands up, effectively cutting off her husband. Shaking her head, she stood up and headed towards her bedroom. Walking by, she glanced up at a wall clock. 3:15 am. Three hours before she was expected to rush out of her apartment and go straight to work.

"Good night," she told Sam before shutting the bedroom door in front of her.

She stared at the door for some time, listening intently for any moments, any signs that Sam was going to burst in, promising to give her an explanation, asking her about her new case…

But nothing happened.

She picked up the phone from her bedside table and dialed Jacob's cell, before quickly backtracking. She tossed the phone aside. "Tomorrow," she decided, crawling into bed.

She could talk to Jacob tomorrow.

"You know, this sounds like a classic case of retaliation."

Jacob acknowledged Leah's comment with a glance before taking another bite of his lunch. The pair were having a late lunch inside a north-side diner on Clark Street, both taking a break before continuing with Day Three of their investigation.

"Yeah, I know," Jacob mumbled. With the back of his hand, wiping off the grease from his overloaded beef sandwich. He laughed at Leah's groan from disgust.

And envy, Leah would like to add. Goodness, she missed greasy, artery-clogging, blood pressure-rising, food. But she was getting older, and no amount of exercise would justify having Jacob's lunch.

"It's most likely mob-related. Maybe cartels," Leah carried on, unenthusiastically playing with her salad.

"You know how creative they can be with their victims."

Leah soon gave up on her salad. After ordering a glass of coke, she leaned back in her seat. "You know who is probably involved," she said, giving the man across from her a pointed look. "Dr. Swan had informed me earlier while you were on the phone with the captain that she had heard some of our comrades talking about it."

"Did they?"

"Yeah. So, what are we going to do about it?"

"Our comrades?"

"No, the fact that they were referencing them."

Jacob shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted with a frown. "I don't know."

Leah sighed.

Their captain hadn't provided them with much direction besides claiming that they had his full support and that the Chicago Dahlia case was to be their biggest priority. The Chicago Dahlia—the unfortunate victim had only been dead for a couple of days, and the press had already given her a nickname.

At least, they had an actual name: Jessica Stanley. Aged 24, hailing from the Lincoln Park section of Chicago— a decent neighborhood with full of decent people. She had been a part-time student at DePaul University, right above downtown. She also had two arrests under the belt for disorderly conduct, and it was with her fingerprints that she was able to be identified.

"We should notify the feds," Leah suggested. "Maybe even get the Special Gang Unit involved. I'm sure Paul will have a field day."

"No can do. We don't have enough justification to get them involved right now. Besides, Paul's people aren't allowed to intervene in any of those people's drama unless it's a special case. You know that."

Leah frowned.

Yeah, she did.

In her opinion, the whole deal made decades ago between law enforcement and specific populations was complete bullshit. She perfectly understood why the police would entertain the idea, but it wasn't right. The police were letting criminals off the hook because they weren't "normal," and the public couldn't handle persons who didn't identify themselves as "human."

There had to be a better way.

Leah pushed aside her salad and pulled on her coat and wool hat. "Any updates on the hotel tapes?"

The hotel cameras had been conveniently disabled on the night of Jessica's murder because of a so-called short circuit.

Jacob groaned.

So, that was a no.

Leah understood Jacob's frustration. From inception, it was clear that nothing in this investigation would be easy. First, the infamous hotel suite had been fully paid in cash, and therefore, the hotel staff foolishly (or purposely, suspiciously) had deemed it unnecessary to obtain any credit card information. Also, said suite had been issued under the victim's name with no one else on record.

Only Jessica Stanley.

"Captain's sending another team to the scene to gather more info since the hotel staff's being useless. For the time being, it looks like we gotta look into our best lead."

It wasn't the best lead, but they had to start from somewhere.

Leah nodded and retrieved a piece of paper from her coat pocket. On it were the names of a list of Jessica's friends, courtesy of social media—two of which the detectives would interview that day.

The interview with Angela Weber and Tyler Crowley was conducted at 4:00 pm at a location right outside of DePaul University. Detective Black and Uley had undoubtedly lucked out; both interviewees were eager to talk. Both were dedicated to finding their friend's murderer. Both weren't panicking, just cool, calm, and collected as they faced the detectives.

Relatively-speaking.

"I cannot believe she's dead," Angela cried, still visibly shaken by the news. "She was such a sweet girl, had everything going for her. She didn't have any problems with anyone. Everyone adored her. How could this have happened?"

Tyler took Angela's hand into his in an attempt to comfort her.

Leah tried to remain sympathetic, but Angela's statement was so clichéd that the detective wanted to do was roll her eyes. According to families and friends, every murder victim was a nice, decent person who had no enemies.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Jacob genuinely said, pulling out a pen and a notepad. Leah did so, as well. "We will do everything in our power to find the person responsible for your friend's death. Again, thank you so much for meeting with us at such short notice."

"It's no problem," Angela said with a bittersweet smile.

"We're just happy to help out the investigation," Tyler added.

"When was the last time you've both seen Jessica?" Leah asked.

"That afternoon. We all had lunch together," Tyler said, and then continued after Angela gave an approving nod. "That day was her birthday. We were all gonna celebrate together, but Jessica said she already had plans."

"What kind of plans?" Jacob asked.

"She didn't say," Tyler quietly replied. "She only mentioned that she would meet up with us the next day to go to the Blackhawks' game. And that she'd let us know when to pick her up."

"Did she ever contact you both after that?" Jacob asked.

"No. That was the last time we've both heard from her."

Jacob nodded as he wrote the information down. "So, at the time we'd reached out to you yesterday, did you both already know what had happened to her?"

"No," Angela finally replied, glancing at Tyler. He didn't meet her gaze. "We only learned about her murder from the news."

"You haven't seen her for two days…" Leah said, not hiding her suspicion. "And you both were supposed to meet up with her to go to a hockey game; did you not find it a bit odd that you couldn't reach her?" She caught Jacob's disapproving look at the corner of her eyes and took a different route in her questioning. This wasn't an interrogation. "You had mentioned over the phone that during those two days that you were worried about her—" The students nodded. "Where did you both realize something was off?"

"When she didn't show up for Computer Applications class," Angela replied. She glanced at Tyler for affirmation. The man nodded. "She never misses that class. Ever—" she dropped her voice. "She kinda had a thing for the professor. She always wanted to make an impression."

"And when did you realize that something had to be wrong?" Jacob asked.

"We never did…" Angela admitted, feigning guilt. "We didn't suspect anything until we heard about the murder. I wish we had noticed earlier; we would have gone to the police."

"So, you didn't file or attempt to file a missing person's report?"

"We were gonna," Tyler answered for Angela. "But we just thought that Jess was only doing her famous disappearing act again."

"Disappearing act?"

"Yeah, about every two weeks, she would drop off the face of the earth for a couple of days. It was usually on the weekend, especially during long holiday weekends."

"We could never get a hold of her during her trips," Angela added. "No calls. No texts. Nothing. It's like she had disappeared."

"Did she ever mention anything about the purpose of these trips?"

"Not to me."

"Same for me," Tyler said. "In the beginning, Jessica would say that she was staying with some friends from high school or work—people we didn't know."

"How long has this been going on?"

Tyler and Angela shared a look.

"Maybe… a year, a year and a half," Angela said. "She would go on these trips to random, exotic places. Last month, she went to Bora Bora, Bali, Paris, and Abu Dhabi... I used to think that she was so lucky."

"So, you had reasons to believe that on the night of her death, Jessica was on one of her trips?" Leah wanted to clarify.

"Yes. If we didn't think that, we would have definitely called the police," Angela insisted. "She's… was our friend. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her."

The detectives would spend another ten minutes questioning the college students. In the end, Jacob pulled out two of their business cards and handed one to each student. "Thank you for your help. You have both been a big help. We'll keep in touch."

As soon as the two college students said their goodbyes and went on their way, Jacob leaned over and whispered to his partner, "Something's telling me that our victim was living a double life."

"Something tells me you may be right," Leah whispered back. "And sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to grill them like that. You know, I'm just—"

Jacob squeezed Leah's shoulder. "You don't need to apologize. You're just doing your job. A great job."

Leah gave him an honest smile. "Thank you."

It was amazing how far the detectives have come in their partnership in such a short time. Three weeks ago, Jacob had been visibly annoyed when he had been assigned to be Leah's partner following his transfer. The problem was never Leah's work ethic; she was a fantastic detective, but she was known for being intimidating.

But Leah was convinced that he was growing to like her. He understood her feelings concerning her husband's actions and vowed to never judge her about it. Plus, he had told her not too long ago that she was just what the police department needed: a wolf. Not in the literal sense, of course, but in personality, a necessity to survive in this city, in this country, in this world. In this climate full of different people. People who wouldn't have been identified as "humans" when the feds finally decided to classify them.

"So, where to next?" Leah asked as she got into their car.

Jacob followed suit, put on his seat belt, and insert his key in the ignition, turning it on. "First, we gotta get a round of coffee. I think we all need some caffeine right about now. Then, we'll visit the morgue and see how Bella is doing."

Leah visited the Office of the Medical Examiner lab at approximately six in the evening. Bella was inside, putting aside some tools; she stopped to wave at the detective. Leah returned the gesture before noticing the office's new hire, Dr. Eric Yorkie. A darling, as Bella had previously described, who was still stuck in college—Leah, to this day, didn't know if that was a compliment or an insult. Then again, Bella didn't seem to be that annoyed around him.

The detective exchanged greetings with both coroners. Neither person bothered to go beyond the standard pleasantries as Leah walked further into the lab, observing its surroundings; the large room was pristine, but it still unnerved Leah to know that she was walking among the dead.

Leah wished Jacob would hurry up and join her. She occasionally glanced at Bella as she walked around the lab in silence. "Please, tell me you have good news," she said.

"Today may be your lucky day," Bella remarked, looking beyond the detective. She raised an eyebrow. "Jacob's coming."

"Getting the coffee," Leah said. For a reason she couldn't discern, the question made her feel a certain kind of way. It was probably nothing, she concluded. After clearing her throat, she approached Bella. "Anything new?"

Bella nodded and handed over her notepad.

Leah thanked the medical examiner with a nod and began to scan through the documents. "Thank you for the prints, by the way," she said. "We were able to find a match, and now our investigation can proceed, and the press can be satisfied... somewhat."

"I'm glad to help."

"Oh yes, Jacob sent us a message about that," Eric said. "Jessica Stanley. 24 from Lincoln Park. You got an occupation, Detective Uley?"

"Part-time student at DePaul, and a waitress at a local diner—"

"Good late afternoon, everyone," Jacob announced as he walked into the lab, balancing three cups of coffee. One for Eric and two for Bella. The medical examiner gave him the most grateful look she could muster and put the drinks aside.

"Jacob, you are a goddamn godsend," Bella told him.

Jacob flashed her a smile. "I try."

"Thanks," Eric said when Jacob handed him his coffee.

Jacob approached the victim's body and stared at it. A white sheet covered it, but he could still see where the body had been severed. "Okay, so what we got?"

"We have determined that our victim died from cardiac arrest, induced by the bite on her neck." Bella pointed to the mark. "Unfortunately, we still do not know how it happened. There are no traces of venom, and we were unable to isolate any foreign DNA."

"She must have died from something," Leah said.

"Obviously, but—we plan to run more tests. It's going to be on the pricey side, and my supervisor isn't going to be thrilled, but we don't have any other choice. I've never seen anything like this before."

"And the dismemberment?"

"Post-mortem. Done with a saw, not a machete, like we initially assumed," Bella said. "She died almost instantly and without much struggle. Perhaps that was the reason no one noticed anything until the maid came in."

"Bodily fluids from anyone else?" Jacob added. "You know, just in case."

Bella shook her head. "Non-existent, but we do know it was a crime of passion. Normal murderers, if there is such a thing, don't do this with a dead body. Obviously, whoever did this is trying to send a message."

Jacob ran a hand through his chair. "Yeah, we're still trying to figure out to whom."

"There's also something else I'd like to show you. We found something on the inside of Jessica's wrist that may be of some interest." Bella walked alongside the body until she reached the area where the severed arm lay. She lifted the sheet for the detectives to look. "Do you have any idea what these letters stand for?"

Neither detective said a word.

Leah recognized those initials. CD. Those two letters just made the investigation into the death of Jessica Stanley just more interesting.

Cullen-Denali.

Before knowing Jacob, Leah had only known the Cullens and the Denalis as a couple of crime families looking to unite as one. After knowing Jacob, she learned that the families were entirely made up of vampires. Covens, the families were called.

She glanced at Jacob; based on his stiffened stature, she knew her partner was aware of the implications as well. Seconds passed before Jacob finally spoke up, Cullen-Denali," he breathed, staring at the mark with a look Bella had never seen before. It scared her. "It stands for Cullen-Denali."

Bella and Eric exchanged curious looks.

Leah wasn't surprised. Resigned, but not surprised. She took her phone out of her pocket and quickly dialed a number. "I told you it was retaliation."