Devon Cassidy is a woman that is a well respected homicide detective for the Detroit Police department. She works along side her partner Hank Anderson who is a bitter old man with skeletons in his closet. One day the two get a new partner, an androi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
DATE DEC 15TH, 2038 TIME PM 12:30:12
"Yeah," Teeth nibble on a pink lip, a nervous tick that has become unnoticeable by the person that does so. "Right," A pair of blue eyes watch expectedly as the blonde speaks on the phone, arms crossed over their chest. "Well, please call me or my partners if you find anything. Yeah, you too. Thanks." Devon Cassidy sighs heavily as she hangs up the phone, tossing it onto her desk.
Hank Anderson watches as the woman deflates slightly, hands falling to rest on her hips where her black high wasted jeans rest. "No luck?" He asks, already knowing the answer just by the one-sided conversation he heard. Devon frowns slightly at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "The friend didn't know anyone that matches the description." She informs the man that's already figured that much.
"I feel like we're chasing a ghost at this point." She says, frustration heavy in her voice. Devon looks at her terminal, all evidence regarding the Jacki murder case there on display, which isn't a lot. Devon hates that she doesn't know more, doesn't have a name for the person that has wrongly killed this woman, ripping her away from a life of freedom she barely got to enjoy. Took her away from a man that loved her no matter that her blood was a different color than his.
An arm reaching into her view causing Devon's green eyes to rip away from the terminal, watching as a handset down a steaming mug of coffee. She follows the arm up to the person it belongs to. Connor hands Hank a mug of his own as well, the older man grunting out thanks. "Thanks, Con." Devon thanks the man, grabbing the warm mug, savoring the bitter-sweet fuel that keeps her going all day.
"Any luck with the friend?" Connor asks, trying to fill in the blanks from when he stepped away to get his two partners coffee. At the mention of it, Devon's shoulders sag down, her demeanor falling once again. The woman sighs, placing the mug back down on her desk.
"No luck." Hank informs the brunette, speaking up for Devon. Connor's brown eyes move from Hank to Devon, seeing how she was staring down at her desk, or more so her terminal. He can see the frustration in her eyes and it makes his chest ache painfully. He wants to reach out to her, pull her into his chest, and pepper her face in soft kisses to try and cheer her up but he knows that would be highly inappropriate in the workplace.
Before Connor could speak to try and cheer her up verbally, another voice interrupts him.
"Are you Detective Cassidy?" Devon's head snaps up, her eyes falling onto an older man, maybe in his mid to late fifties. He's tall, maybe Connor's height, his dark hair is greying on the sides. Devon notes that the man seems wealthy due to the tailored-to-fit suit that seems like it cost more than what she makes in a year and for his age, he seems to be indecently good shape.
"Uh, yes sir I'm detective Cassidy, and who are you?" She asks, stepping around her desk to come towards the man. "I'm the man that's about to have your badge, detective." Devon pauses, brows furrowed. She turns her head slightly to glance at her partners.
