Who Killed Suzy?

Suzy Conner wasn't just dead, she was a lightning bolt lancing through Detective Thompson's gut. Murdered, on her way home, in a scene ripped straight from the nightmares that haunted her sleep. This wasn't a case, it was a punch to the solar plexus, a scream echoing back from the dusty corners of her past.

"Cole!" Her voice cracked steel. "Get every damn cop within a five-mile radius on this. This ain't just another stiff in an alley, this is...personal."

The familiar anger, long simmered and suppressed, roared back to life, a hungry beast clawing at its cage. The victim? A stranger, sure, but the killer? He wore the mask of someone Thompson once called friend, someone who'd betrayed her in ways that left scars deeper than any bullet wound.

"No," she snarled, the word a whipcrack in the stagnant air. "He won't get away with this. Not this time. This time, the nightmare ends. We hunt him down like wolves. We tear him apart, piece by bloody piece."

Cole, ever the calm to her storm, met her gaze with a grim nod. "Let's go, Thompson. Make the devil himself tremble before we're done."

They surged out of the dingy alley, a whirlwind of purpose and fury. This wasn't just a case anymore. This was vengeance, redemption, a chance to exorcise the ghosts that clung to Detective Thompson's soul like shadows. This was payback, served ice-cold and with a side of retribution.

So buckle up, reader. This investigation isn't about finding a killer, it's about facing a monster. And Detective Thompson? She's not just looking for answers, she's coming for blood