Picture Perfect

Chapter 1

It was a clear night, not a cloud in the sky which was odd lately. It had been an extremely rainy June so everyone cherished these clear, dry moments. About an hour after sunset the neighborhood was quiet and I was sitting on my balcony, alone, staring at my hand holding my service revolver.
"I can't do this anymore." I whispered into the still night while tears rolled down my face.
The past year of my life had been hell, plan and simple. Occasionally there had been bright spots provided mostly by my friends and the light of my life Sebastian, but the horrors I saw and lived through far outnumbered the good.
The only one here to witness my final demise is the pup Sebastian loves so dearly, our three year old terrier mix Zebbie. I could hear her tail hitting the door, knowing all she wanted to do was come join me on the balcony like usual but I couldn't turn around.
In a simple, slightly harsh tone I said, "Got get a drink Zebbie!" Which the dog usually took as a cue for her to hide under the couch. But tonight she remained at the door whimpering slightly after she heard my voice. Could she sense how anxious and desperate I felt? Did she know what I was about to do? But that was impossible, she was just a dog.
    I forced myself to stop thinking about the dog and focus on why I was out here. I looked around at the neighborhood I had grown up in, the neighborhood I had intended to raise a family in but that was no more. Tonight this was the neighborhood I would die in.
    This was also the neighborhood where the horrors of the past year began. Four blocks away a killer took out their rage on a small family. The killer who consumed my nightmares for months as well as terrorizing an entire community. We finally apprehended them after six more families suffered the same fate. The killer came frighteningly close to making it seven families.
    One of the good things to come from this killing spree was my girls. The four of us representing four different sides of this case spent countless hours talking over every aspect of this case. In the end it had been a detail that Kayla, the medical examiner saw that broke the case wide open.
    I should go inside and call one of them. They would all start to materialize at my door within five minutes of my first hello, of that I was sure. But for some reason I could not do the logical thing right now, I was acting on pure emotion. Ironically being logical yet emotional has made me the successful detective that I am.
    In the field I am extremely methodical when looking at a crime scene, processing every detail I can find. Then when I'm with loved ones of a victim I listen to what they say, almost as if I'm grieving with them which seemed to encourage them to share details more freely than with a less compassionate detective. My partner swears either I have multiple personalities or I'm a robot because of my seamless transition between logic and emotion. She swears I may be the best partner in the department but I was not normal.
    I guess I'm proving the not normal theory right tonight, because most homicide detectives don't blow their brains out the day before the killer they hunted down goes to trial.
    Again I looked down towards where this whole nightmare started, the Olsen's house on 72nd and Beloit.