Carver

Chapter Two- Patricia

The agents at the Brooklyn Field Office always dreaded the arrival of their chief when she had been summoned out of bed at an ungodly hour. It was something akin to using black magic to summon a demon.  The sound of an engine cutting out and a slamming door attracted the attention of Special Agent Luke Morrison who was conversing with a pair of police officers from the Brooklyn Police Department just inside the yellow crime scene tape which cordoned off the entrance to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. Luke glanced over his shoulder at the sound and smiled. Luckily, he had prepared for the impending wrath of SSA Sarah Carver. Her legs took her in long strides, her heels clicking against the concrete sidewalk. Luke turned fully and thrust a disposable cup under Sarah’s nose. Without a word, Sarah snatched the cup from him and ducked under the crime scene tape. Luke followed her as she climbed the few stone steps up into the attraction. They did not have to walk too far before they were met with the grizzly sight of a woman lying facing up in a thick pool of blood, her wide blue eyes glazed over and staring lifelessly up at the glass ceiling. Sarah took a sip of her coffee, the hot caffeinated goodness sliding down her parched throat. The floodlights used to illuminate the crime scene was an assault on Sarah’s eyes, causing her to grimace and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“You okay, Sarah?” came the gravelly voice of Luke. Sarah squinted and glanced at him. Luke was an attractive man, though not in the way that most women would consider attractive. He had shaggy brown hair that hung in waves to his neck and he had stubble over his angled jaw and top lip. He had chiseled cheekbones and deep brown soulful eyes. He was dressed in a white shirt which was open at the collar, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a burgundy tie with black dress trousers. His glock hung at his left side.

“Migraine. So what have we got?” asked Sarah as she crouched down to take a closer look at the victim on the ground in front of her. Luke took a notepad out of the back pocket of his trousers and scanned through his notes.

“Patricia Sparks. Prostitute. She was reported missing two days ago by her street partner Desiree after leaving in a car and wasn’t seen again. The report of the body came into the PD around an hour ago by the security guard as he was completing his walk around, then we were contacted an hour later. CSU haven’t found any fingerprints on the body or on scene.”

“And no one was stationed at this door?”

“Nope. The gardens only have one guard on duty overnight and he is required to complete an inspection of all areas of the site every hour.”

“So we’re potentially looking at a forty-five minute window in which the body was disposed of while the guard was doing his rounds. Has the ME been out yet?”

“Yes, ma’am. They estimated her death to be around two hours ago around the time that the report came in, based on lividity and rigor. They suspect COD to be the slash to her throat, but they will tell us more once they get her back to the morgue and complete an autopsy.” Luke pushed the notepad back into his pocket. Sarah straightened up, her knees clicking. She took another sip of coffee, her eyes fixed to the mottled body of Patricia Sparks. She glanced sideways at Luke who was watching her intently, his eyebrows raised and his dark eyes boring holes into her head.

“Let’s get back to the field office,” grumbled Sarah. She gulped the remaining coffee in her cup and tossed it into the trash can at the door before making her way back down the steps. She fished her pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket and slid one out. She put it to her lips and pushed the pack back into her pocket before digging out her lighter. With two clicks, a flame bobbed on the lighter. She held it to the end of the cigarette until it glowed red, then shut the lighter off. She took a long draw off the cigarette before she exhaled the blue/gray smoke. She crossed her left arm over her body, her right arm hanging down by her side with the cigarette between her index and second finger.

“Thought you were giving them up?” came Luke’s voice from behind as he took the last step and stood to Sarah’s right. Sarah quickly looked at him, then back in front of her at the van that had just parked up with ambulance emblazoned across the side.

“Yeah, well. That went tits up then, didn’t it?”

“No shit. You sure everything’s okay?” Luke moved directly into Sarah’s vision, blocking out her sight of the ambulance. Sarah frowned and chewed her lip.

“Sure. Peachy.”  

“Come on, Sarah. You know you can talk to me, right?” Sarah took another draw on her cigarette as she considered the man before her, “I know it’s been six months since Danny, but you need to talk to someone. You need to open up and let people in.” Sarah sighed and looked down at the ground before looking back into her fellow agent’s eyes.

“Luke, I know you mean well, but I don’t want to talk about this right now.” Sarah’s initial prickly demeanor was now more subdued and solemn. She took one more draw from her cigarette before she dropped it to the floor and stubbed it out with the toe of her boot. She pushed past Luke who simply watched her as she climbed into her car and sped away.

 The Brooklyn field office was silent, which was not a surprise considering it was 04.30 in the morning. Sarah slid her ID card through the lock situated to the right of the glass panel door which had the Department of Justice logo across the center of the glass, and punched in the code on the keypad. The door clicked open and Sarah stepped inside. The fluorescent lights felt like yet another assault on her senses. She walked at pace towards her office at the back, just past the bullpen, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. Her name was engraved into a bronze plaque on a wooden door. She opened the door, allowing the light to filter into her office as she leaned over her desk and switched on the dimmed desk lamp. Sarah slumped into the swivel chair behind her desk. Despite her untidy apartment, Sarah’s office was obsessively tidy. She had a large stack of case folders in her in tray to her left next to her computer, and a very empty out tray to her right. An award sat just to the left of her out tray, the plaque glinting in the dull light from the desk lamp. A name plaque sat at the front of her desk reading SSA Sarah Carver- Chief, facing towards anyone who entered the small, almost clinical room. A new case file lay central on her desk. It was emblazoned with the FBI logo on the front. Undoubtedly, this was for her newest case- Patricia Sparks.

Sarah threw back her head, her ponytail hanging down the back of her chair as she slowly spun in her chair, her hands folded over her stomach. It was going to be an exceptionally long day. She lifted her head and looked into the bullpen through her still open door, to see Luke entering and taking his seat at his desk. Using her desk to push up, Sarah came to her feet and made her way through the bullpen to the break room. Sarah was grateful that someone had the cognizance to refill the coffee machine. She switched it on and opened the cupboard above her head to retrieve her favorite mug which was an exceptionally large white mug which had measures on one side which started at the top reading ‘Do Not Talk Yet’, then ‘Give Me Five Minutes’, then ‘You May Speak’ and finally ‘Refill’. On the other side, it read ‘Boss Lady’. Sarah leaned against the bench which was littered in grubby fingerprints and drummed her fingers on the top as she waited. Once the machine finished boiling, filling the room with its aroma, Sarah filled her mug and then added a generous helping of sugar from the labeled tins to the back of the bench. She picked up the mug with both hands and held it to her nose as she closed her eyes and breathed in the heavenly scent. With a sigh, Sarah made her way back to her office with her coffee in her hands. Sarah placed her mug on the desk, an area where the varnish had worn down from all of the times she had previously set her mug down. She leaned back in her chair and briefly considered the case file in front of her before she sat forward again, elbows resting on the desk and opened the file to the initial police report and crime scene photos. She had no doubts that she was going to need a good stiff drink once all of this was over.