A Rose Dipped in Blood

Chapter One: New Case

      While you are reading this I would like you all to keep in mind that this book has been entered into the WattyAwards and the Special Awards under Best Adult Perspective. Any and all help is deeply appreciated.   

                 “I didn’t do it,” Marisa squealed, tears running down her face ruining her makeup. “I swear I didn’t kill him.”

            “You had motive, you have no alibi and we caught you admitting it to a friend.” Alex Hawk countered, his patience for this girl's nonsense beginning to wear thin. “We have your fingerprints all over his body and the knife you used to kill him.”

            “I didn’t,” she heaved in a long breath, her body shuttering. “I couldn’t have…” There it was. The weakness he had been looking for.

            “But you did.” Hawk stood up and his chair flew out from underneath him. “You did it and you know it. He wanted to break up with you for your best friend. That hurt you but you would have been able to live with it. You found out that they had already been seeing each other for six months, didn’t you?” Alex leaned in close. In the past he had learned that at six feet, not many people could stare back when he glared. “And that just pissed. You. Off.” She looked up at him, her face tightening around the lips. “Why should they get a happily ever after while you get left behind?”

            “They shouldn’t,” she whispered, her voice lacking the before need for sympathy. “And now that dick never will.”

            “And that’s why you killed him isn’t it?”

            “Yes.” Marisa’s face crumbled and the tears resumed. “I want to see my lawyer.” Hawk nodded and left the interrogation room, his usual smile still planted firmly on his face. God, he loved his job.

            “How’d it go?” NYPD Captain of his department, Captain Ronda. With her short cut brown hair and plump body, she was quite the intimidating sight. But it was hard for him to say her name without laughing ever since hearing his treadmill say ‘Hello, my name is Ronda and I’ll be your personal trainer today’. 

            Hawk pretended to shoot a basketball through an invisible hoop. That was what? 30-0 now? Since becoming a detective, Alex had not once failed to track down his target. And he didn’t plan to ever let one escape. Not just for the score—though that was important—but for the story. For the families of the deceased.

            “Hoot, hoot.” That Jerry just couldn’t understand that Hawks and Owls did not make the same noise. Jerry checked his watch and tucked his black hair behind his ear. “9 am. A new record. It only took you forty-eight hours.”

            “This one was easy pickings. She had ‘I did it’ written all over her face.” Hawk clapped Jerry on the back and strutted over to his desk where he plopped down into his chair. As usual for after a completed case, a cup of coffee and a glazed donut waited for him beside his computer.

            Hawk grabbed the coffee and hovered it below his nose. Vanilla and cream filled his nostrils followed by scent of coffee beans. Delicious.

            The wonderful liquid steamed its way down his throat and when it was down he smacked his lips together. As he was about to take a bite from his donut, his phone buzzed in his pocket. His ring tone sounded a moment later, blubbering on the lyrics of new pop singer his daughter had probably thought funny to embarrass him with. 

            Quickly he pressed the talk button. “This is Hawk.” He stuffed the donut into his mouth and ripped of a large chunk.

            “Sir, we need you down town at the new Target construction sight. Do you know where that is?” Michael asked. Static erupted behind him but soon quieted down.