The Winged Dare [COMPLETED]

Chapter One

February Second, 2014

3:45 AM

Detective Laura Rainshot stepped out of her car, quickly followed by her partner -- and husband -- Caleb Rainshot. She reached up and pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head before reaching over and repeating the action on Caleb. It was cold and raining. The wind had picked up, blowing the rain straight into their faces.

Once she reached the yellow police tape, she lifted up the bottom hem of her jacket, revealing the badge that her shirt had been tucked behind. The officer -- Bonita Femur -- nodded and lifted the tape for Laura to pass through. Caleb pulled back the left side of his jacket to show his own badge. Again, Bonita lifted the tape. The other officer -- Amanita Nightshade, Bonita's partner -- was already busy keeping press and citizens away from the crimescene.

Using both hands, Laura held her hood around her face, her head bowed to avoid the pain caused by the rain striking harshly against her cheeks.

She crossed the wet pavement, the unavoidable puddles causing cold water to seep through her boots and socks. She let out a low groan as she reached the only building on the lot. "Where is she?" Laura asked over the roar of the wind.

Officer Clawd Wolf tapped a large hand against the dumpster. "In here. Homeless man found 'er. We don't have an ID yet. Hell, we don't even have the homeless dude's name!" he shouted over the wind.

"Where is he?" Caleb asked.

Officer Heath Burns jerked his thumb to the left. "Coffee shop across the street. I gave him a few bucks to keep him occupied until you got here," he said.

Laura hit Caleb's shoulder. "Find out his name, see what he knows. Don't come back until you have something for me." He nodded and started the unrelenting walk to the shop. "Which one of you saw her first?" she asked.

"I did," Clawd said. "She ain't been moved. We haven't touched nothin'. I shut the lid 'a the dumpster ta further preserve whatever evidence may be in there from the rain. That's it," he added. Even over the horrendous howl of the wind and rain, his southern accent was crisp and clear.

Laura nodded as she dug a pair of gloves out of the back pocket of her jeans. Since they were already damp, putting them on became a difficult task. "Do we have a rough age on Jane Doe?" she asked.

"Nothin'. The rain started almost as soon as we got out here," Clawd said.

Again, she nodded. The glove snapped audibly against the underside of her wrist, an action that caused her to wince at the sudden blow. She shook out her hand before looking up to meet the werewolf's golden eyes. "You two staying around? Or are you heading back out?" she asked.

"Unless you're kickin' us out, we're helpin'," Clawd said.

"Great. I'm running back to the car for my camera. I'll snap a few pictures of this--" she traced a circle in the air around the dumpster "--and then we'll get the dumpster moved into one of these storage units so we can look at the body," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Clawd said.

4:10 AM

With the dumpster inside and out of the rain, Laura stepped up onto the small outer ledge and pulled her camera up to face. "Oh," she whispered as she snapped the first picture of the victim. "Jane Doe doesn't have a head," she said.

"Ain't that the same M.O. from that girl that was killed last week?" Clawd asked.

Laura sighed. "Sadly, yes." She rolled her shoulders back, tilted her camera, and took another picture. "She's got that damn winged necklace, too. I can see it sticking out of her pocket."

"Same killer, same case. Makes your job easier," Heath said.

"No, it means that I have a new spree murderer on my hands. That's not making my job easier. That's some sick fück trying to ruin my solve streak, possibly even give me a new unsolved to add to my record," she said.

Heath snorted. "You could at least pretend that the murder is more than some case to you," he said. "This is about more than your job."

She lifted her head, her gaze locking on the wall directly in front of her. "Do you honestly think I don't know that?" she asked. She turned to look at Heath. "This is much more than some case. This is much more than my job. I live for these. Once a new one lands on my desk, my life strictly revolves around them. I don't do anything but work the case. I have a cold case from five years ago that I still work on when I have free time," she said.

"Damn."

"Yes, damn," Laura said. She shook her head. "You know, I may be shorter than you, Officer Burns, but I will kick your äss into next week if you ever speak to me like that again," she said. She turned away from him, bringing the camera back to her face. "Are we clear, Officer?" she asked.

"Yes, Detective," Heath said quietly. It was the common theme among the officers that worked with Laura Rainshot. She was to be respected. And if you didn't respect her, it was expected for the offender to be humiliated, mocked, or shamed. Actually, it wasn't beneath her to get an officer fired for disrespecting her. She was high on the ladder of business. She was a very important monster, for more than one reason.

Reason one, Laura Rainshot was the best detective in the country. Reason two, she was the only daughter of Vladimir Dracula, the most respected and most feared man in the town. Reason three, the captain of the station -- Lucas Where -- had a soft spot for the small vampire. If someone did something to her, Lucas would take her side without question. Reason four, she was rather buddy-buddy with the judge in town -- Cleo de Nile. All in all, these things meant that messing with her never ended well for anyone.