Redemption

Chapter Three

Danni's day seemed to get even worse as every moment ticked by. When she'd arrived at the scene, she found that she had to fight her way through a large crowd of passers-by and reporters. She made sure to check her pockets after she ducked under the police line to make sure there were no pick-pockets in the group. She'd made that rookie mistake in her first case as a detective. Of course, that was in New York, but DC wasn't much different. Luckily, she still had everything, though it didn't stop her suspicions.

She wandered over to the three covered bodies that had already been examined by the ME (Medical Examiner) and his team, which is where Robert stood. She said nothing to him though as he handed her a pair of gloves for her to put on.

"Sorry to drag you out here so early," he apologized. "I'm sure the fed had a few choice words to say about this." He gave a smirk at the thought of ticking him off, until he saw the aggravated look on her face.

"His name is Bobby. God, I wish the two of you would just shut up some times. You don't like each other; big deal. Get over it!" She exhaled loudly as she vented. "So, what've we got?" She motioned to the bodies so they could get this over with. She never had a problem with looking at dead bodies, but she could tell, right now, that what she was about to see wasn't going to bode well with her.

He cleared his throat as he signaled for the ME's assistant to remove the sheets. "Three males—all in their late twenties and all of Arabic decent. They were all brothers; two of them were nationalized citizens, while the third," he pointed to the body in the middle with his pen as he wrote down a few details in his notepad, "just arrived a few days ago on a work visa. None of them were married and none had any known children."

She knelt closer to the first body and glanced at all of them in turn. They'd all been murdered the same way: facedown with their hands and feet tied together and a bullet wound in the back of each of their heads. She could feel her stomach churning and almost regretted eating breakfast this morning, but she would only be worse if her stomach was empty. "They look like they were executed." The churning increased, so she stood up before she began retching.

Robert nodded to the ME's assistant to cover the bodies once more. "They were executed," he corrected. "A .45 right to the spinal cord. Fortunately, they wouldn't have felt a thing. It would have killed them instantly." A heavy sigh escaped him as he saw her face. She looked as white as a sheet and it seemed like she could throw up. "I've been given orders to hand over the case, though. This really isn't our territory, so they FBI are going to take care of it." He had a point. The death of three males of Arabic decent would surely throw the country into a panic. They had to keep this quiet and they had to let the FBI handle it. "I spoke with Assistant Director Ted Garrett. He said he was putting his best team on it. They're going to want our written reports and photos… everything we know about this… Are you okay?" The color had completely drained from her face, right now. She looked like she would fall over at the slightest touch. He reached out to catch her if need be, but she only stood there for a moment.

She nodded as she took in a few deep breaths to calm her stomach. Usually, this wouldn't happen to her; she was always so calm. What was it about this that made her so queasy? She took a few more deep breaths before everything subsided. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. You look like Marie did when she found out she was pregnant with Caitlyn." It was only a statement, he wasn't implying anything. She just seemed to think he was.

"Don't even joke about something like that," she glared at him.

"Who's joking? I was only saying what I thought." They both discarded their gloves properly and began to leave the scene. The bodies were being prepared for transport and all the evidence had been collected. There was nothing more they could do here. They would have to write up any reports they could and send them off to the FBI. Robert stopped in his tracks as a thought struck him. "It's not his, is it?"

She turned around and looked at him incredulously. "I can't believe you just said that!" she exclaimed. She lowered her voice so only he would be able to here, because she was getting a few strange looks from the others around them. "If I were, which I'm not, it most definitely would be his; not that it's any of your business. This whole thing just has me rattled. It's just something else to give me nightmares."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder in the fatherly way he always did as a sign of apology. If he had implied anything, he certainly didn't mean it. "You and me both." Even he was still haunted by the situation that occurred a year ago. He could still vividly picture him and Caitlyn tied to those chairs. But, in his dreams, the team never made it. He would wake up in a cold sweat when the explosion went off. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything. I think it's just retirement rearing its ugly head. I've got the thought in my mind, so I can't control my mouth… You're sure?"

She nodded with a smile. "I'm sure."

"Good. So, have you given any thought to what we discussed?"

"Yeah, I have. I just haven't made a decision, yet." Her concentration on their conversation wavered as she saw a woman scrambling over to them. She was a young beauty, but professional-looking in her pant suit and her dark brown hair clipped in the back of her head to keep it out of her eyes. Danni didn't know who she was, but she knew what she wanted. "Reporter alert," she mumbled as they ducked under the police tape and tried to avoid her. Still, she caught up with them.

"Excuse me, Detectives?" Her voice was eager, yet she seemed to know what she was doing. Obviously, she had been a reporter for a while, but Danni had never seen her before. "Can I ask you a few questions?"

The two detectives looked at one another as if they were thinking the same thing. They didn't want any of this to get out, so they had to remain tight-lipped. They looked at the reporter with the same aggravated expression on both of their faces. "No comment," they said in unison as they headed to their vehicles.

"Please, just one question?" The newcomer asked as she cornered Danni at her car, a 1967 Chevy Impala. It was a car that a friend in New York—the same one who built her motorcycle—completely rebuilt and she bought without a second glance. She figured that she would need a car in DC, especially since she couldn't exactly ride her motorcycle in her heels. That was where the car came in handy.

Danni paused as she opened up the car door and stared into the eyes of the reporter. She saw her ready to write down whatever was said and made sure to put a stop to it. She placed her hand on top of the notepad, which forced the stranger to look at her. "No comment," she repeated before she climbed in and shut the door. She hated nosy reporters; they caused nothing but trouble. She could recollect at least one occurrence when some woman decided to pull a Lois Lane and try to solve the case on her own. Danni was furious at her because she had to let the bad guy get away, so she could rescue the idiot.

The reporter crossed her arms over her chest as she watched the old, black Impala drive off. It may have been a while since she'd last been in DC, but she was still the best investigative journalist the city's ever seen. She knew every cop here, that's why Stern had just ignored her. But, this new one, this woman; she'd break her. And when she did, she would get the scoop of a lifetime.