Investigation

Chapter Two - Investigation

Unknown POV

*Present day*

The sound of honking horns and shouting filled the brisk morning air—the constant clicking of a camera shutter beside me. The yellow tape was swaying in the cold winter wind. My fingers grew numb in the latex gloves needed to collect any potential evidence. The smell of piss, blood, and decaying flesh filled my nose.

After three years of this, it never gets easier. Some say that once it becomes easy. Once the unsolved murders stop haunting your dreams and you stop caring about the body in front of you, you've lost your soul to the devil.

I looked at the bruised and swollen body before me. This man was someone's son, brother, maybe even a father or a husband. Whoever he pissed off made him suffer, and it was clear he wasn't their first victim. Every cut, every hit was calculated to inflict pain but not kill him until they got what they wanted.

Since I left the academy and joined the force as a homicide detective, there have been about fifty or more cases like this one, and no one can seem to catch the guys behind it. The victims are either involved with the drug cartel or some form of a black market deal gone south.

"Who's bad side did you find yourself on?" I muttered to myself. The rushed scuffing of the shoes of my partner sounded behind me.

"What we got?" Sullivan asked as she entered the crime scene. I stood up, peeling off my latex gloves and pulling out my notebook.

"White male, decapitated and brutally beaten. Some wounds look to be a few days old. But the cause of death is unknown, due to the missing head coroner won't be able to tell us if this was done before or after he died until after the autopsy. He's been dead no more than eight hours. Two kids called it in this morning. Said they were taking a shortcut through the alley to make it to school on time." I said, sticking my notepad back into my pocket.

"Talk about one hell of a wake-up call. It's the same MO as the last guy. Brutally beaten and then  killed and then dumped out in the streets for some kids or homeless guy to find." Sullivan sighed.

"Whoever does this enjoys the pain they inflict." Sullivan nodded in agreement.

"We'll catch the bastard who's done this. Everyone slips up eventually, leaves something behind."

"Yeah, everyone except this guy. It's like he's a ghost. You've heard the rumours about a collector hired by cartels and biggest gangs to clean up their messes, ensuring no one finds out how they are connected. It's like some kind of twisted voodoo magic, with how easily the bodies are dumped and no one, not even cameras catch them." I grabbed the cup of coffee from her hand. Taking a big gulp, I resisted the urge to gag as the coffee grounds hit my tongue.

"God, where do you buy this shit, Piper? Taste like it sat out for a day before they served it." She gave me a sour look as she took a sip of her own.

"That'll be the last time I make you a coffee." She coughed as she looked at me in disgust.

"Maybe it'll be the last time I ever attempt to make myself a coffee too." She laughed.

"Stick to your day job. At least your semi-good at that." I laughed, nudging her with my elbow. She laughed before looking back at the now-covered body.

"Do you think it's the deadly one at play here?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"I'm not sure, but it matches all the other victims over the last five years. So my question is, where the hell did this monster come from, and what kind of training does he have to be this good at hiding his trail."

***

"Killian, my office now." My captain shouted from his desk. I pushed out of my chair, letting out an annoyed breath. The only time he called you into his office was to ream you out and make you feel like a worthless piece of shit.

I plastered on my best smile and stepped into what we called his 'trophy room.' Plaques and pictures with the mayor and other government officials lined the walls. His bookshelf was filled with all the cases he closed back in his prime.

He leaned back in his chair. His brown hair was peppered with greys. His beard was trimmed nicely. He wore his uniform today, meaning he had an important meeting he had just come from. His brown eyes narrowed on me as he gestured for me to take a seat. His aged face was more pissed off than usual. I took a seat on the uncomfortable chair. The fake leather squeaked as you sat, the back was too straight, and the arms too low.

"What's the matter, sir?"

"Cut the crap, Reyna. You don't want to be here as much as I want you in here." He grovelled, sitting up straighter in his seat. Such an ass hat, I pray for the day he retires.

"You and Sullivan have been working the same case for three years and have come up empty-handed. We got another body on the streets and people demanding answers. I want to change things up. Im going to put the case in front of some fresh eyes-"

"You have to be fucking kidding me, Captain. You can't give this case away. Sullivan and I have been the only ones who pieced together anything we have now. We're getting close, don't-"

"You're walking a thin line, Reyna." He shouted. Anger was making it hard for me to hold my tongue. It was a growing problem of mine that only seemed to get worse with the less sleep I got and more bodies we found, leaving more questions than answers.

"Before you so rudely cut me off, I was about to say. I'm not taking you guys off the case. I'm giving you more men to aid in the manhunt. I need this guy caught in order to keep riots from starting in this city. The mayor is breathing down my neck." I sat back in my seat and rubbed my hands down my face.

"Sorry, sir," I muttered.

"I will have everything set up in the debriefing room tomorrow morning. Now head home and get some rest. You look like shit." I nodded and rushed out of his office. Grabbing my jacket, car keys and headed home.

My apartment was on the east side of the city. Far enough from the drug side of the city but not close enough to the rich side to cost me a fortune to rent a place I barely slept in. I walked into my house, threw my keys at the hall table and closed and locked the door behind me. I dropped my coat on the counter, kicked off my shoes and made my way to my room. I stripped off my shirt and pants, placing my gun and holster on the nightstand before rolling into my blankets and shutting out the world.