Personal

CHAPTER 1: CRIME TAKES NO DAY OFF

I sighed happily as I sat on my couch with my huge mug of strong, black coffee and the warm waffle I'd just made myself. It had been a long time since I had last been able to just sit back and relax in my own home. The amount of paperwork that I had allowed to pile up on my desk in the precinct had been making me spend something from three to six hours a day in my house for the five weeks before, and all of those were spent sleeping or in the shower.

Of course I wouldn't be able to enjoy my moment of normality for long, though. The first woman to ever lead the homicide division in the State couldn't ever have it easy. So it wasn't much of a surprise when my phone rang, and I didn't have to look to know who was calling me. Social life was a concept I ignored, so there weren't really many options. My next sigh wansn't exactly happy. "Slade."

It must have been pretty obvious that I wasn't very pleased, as Cooper seemed hesitant as he responded. "Boss. There's just been a call... someone found a body in Green Water. Seems bad from what they said on the phone."

Suddenly, I wasn't annoyed at having my peace disturbed by work anymore. Had he said the body had been found at the docks, I wouldn't have worried so much. The gangs had been fighting pretty badly lately, and there wasn't much we could do besides catch the killers once they'd already killed someone. Now Green Water... That was disturbing. The last murder in that area had probably happened one or two decades before, and it was a rich couple situation. For a corpse to be just lying on the street, something obviously wasn't right. "Text me the address, I'll be there in fifteen. Send Jones and Martinez."

With one more sigh, I just dumped the mug of coffee on the kitchen counter, grabbing my keys with one hand while I held the waffle I was decided to finish eating in the other. In two minutes I was driving to the address Cooper had texted me. I was already pissed at the piece of shit who had the guts to kill someone in my city. The gangs I was used to, but I had worked hard to make sure that those were the only murders I ever had to deal with. It had been months since the last different call, and that had still been a stupid bar fight.

It did seem bad alright. In all of my twelve years in the force, I had never seen so much blood coming out of only one person before. Whoever had killed the kid had certainly made sure to make a show out of it.

Jones and Martinez weren't at the scene yet, the only person there being Sarah, the ME and the only person I could count as a friend - sort of. "Nice way to enjoy your day off huh?"

I chuckled at the greeting. She had that right. "Just wonderful. But whatever, if crime takes no day off then Valerie Slade won't either. I just wish I'd had the chance to finish my coffee first. Victim?"

Sarah took on a no bullshit tone to answer me. That's precisely why I liked her. The girl knew when to take things seriously. "Joshua Wolf, sixteen, according to the driving license I found in his wallet. No signs of drug use that I can see right now, but tox will confirm that. No signs of a struggle, either. Kid seems to be absolutely fine, if only he wasn't very much dead."

Sixteen. The short blond boy in cargo pants and no more clothing, who was at that moment lying face down in a puddle of his own blood, did seem young, but I had hoped he wasn't that young. "Well, someone's gonna pay for this one, and it won't be cheap. C.O.D.? There's so much blood I can't tell straight away."

She sighed and pushed the body so that he was lying on his back, and then I could identify what had killed him. "Multiple fresh cuts and bruises on his back, and the pattern leads me to believe that they were produced by some sort of whip. Also, multiple cuts along the torso, arms and face, probably inflicted with a dagger or some equally sharp knife, and I'm guessing now you find cause of death pretty obvious, since the kid was all but degorgé, if you'll excuse my French. Apart from those, restraint wounds around the wrists and ankles - seem to have been caused by friction against some kind of rough rope - which is more indication that he was tortured before his death. And then there's this. I don't know what to make of it."