Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Her strides were long and determined as the high heel black boots glided to its destination. Her black outfit, expressionless face with dark sunglasses contributed to her no-nonsense persona. A call came in for a possible floater in her district. She hoped that there would be none of the usual pissing contests for jurisdiction. It was one of those areas in Boston where agencies and departments overlapped. Detective Emma Swan was making her way towards the end of the pier towards the yellow taped line. Her long golden hair waved in the slight breeze. It was one of her assets that contributed to the Detective’s natural beauty and allure. Several men stopped to look at her. Only the uninformed would ever approach her. Her beauty was a vast contrasted deception for her personality.
The early morning light reflected hazily off the water; she was already irritated. Her shaded eyes noticed everything, including the longing gazes of a few men on her way to the crime scene. The designer glasses had become almost a permanent affixture, it allowed for her cynical eye rolling, combined with that look which told you in no uncertain terms that you were an idiot in her estimation. A few months before her Lieutenant, called her in for a reprimand. Apparently, she was displaying aggressive behavior, she intimidated the younger officers, not only with her comments, but the eye rolling and her body language in general. The reprimand, one of a substantial amount did not affect her. If an Officer could not take criticism, he or she had no place on a crime scene. She inhaled deeply as she made her way through the yellow police tape cordoning off the area. The Detective showed her badge and told her name and badge number to the officer on the perimeter line. “The media just arrived.” He said tentative knowing her reputation and when she thanked him, she could swear he stood two feet taller.
She huffed a profanity when he was out of hearing range. She was sure that by the end of the week he would ask her out on a date. As she approached the end of the pier with her long strides, she saw her partner receive several twenty dollar bills. She shook her head mentally. The reason why she always seemed to be the subject of the casual betting at the station, eluded her. The fact that her partner was one of the prime instigators amused her. As she reached him, he handed her a cup of coffee, which she took gratefully. He was the only man in her life that she was entirely confident that he used his brain. Neal Cassidy was her person. The person you call at three in the morning because you are too drunk to get home. The person whose name went on all the forms. He was her partner, her best friend and the only family she had or would ever need. Her person.
“What did you bet on this time?” She asked as she sipped the warm black liquid he offered. “I hope these assholes are not still betting that I will pitch up in bright colors?” His usual frown formed on his forehead. The lines next to his mouth lit up as he smiled. His lined face and scruffy appearance negated the man he was. He was a better cop than he was a man and an even greater friend.
“Nah, we are betting on what jacket you will wear.”
“Really?” She asked, annoyed as she lifted her shades to look at him. The green eyes were piercing into his brown once. He gave her that same boyish smile she fell in love with, so many years ago. “And you won the bet of wearing my mid-thigh jacket, because, you know I am due in court today?” He gave her one of his full smiles, lighting his face up in laugh lines.
“Remember I gave you coffee?” He said before she could slap him in his slight rounding stomach. “Whatever.” It was a cop thing; they betted on the most ridiculous things at the office or on crime scenes.
She walked off. Neal watched. He never grew tired of watching her walk away. In his mind, if Emma Swan was a song, Per Gessle got it dead on Dangerous. She was not only beautiful, her body was also fantastic. Even though she hid both her beauty and her body underneath her ever black exterior, he knew her before she was nicked named Dark Swan. There were days he wished that the girl he met so many years ago would one day pitch up. As the years passed by, he saw his friend constructing more walls, the thought of the smiling girl he knew, was dimmer. As hard as it was for him, he started to accept the woman that replaced her, the old Emma, smiling into his heart on rare occasions.
“Morning Red, what do you have for us?” Emma asked as she looked into the brilliant blue eyes of the young M.E. When she first me Doctor Red Lucas she nearly blew a fuse. All that Emma saw was jailbait. However, like herself, the young, intelligent doctor had built herself a perplexed persona. Her posture and mannerisms were direct, distant and factual. She did not tolerate stupidity or disrespect in her autopsy room. It was her way to show colleagues and Officers from the various departments, that, yes, she was young, but she had two Ph.D.'s to go with her great looks. She learned early on that no one takes a pretty doctor seriously, but a smart one was another story. The only indication that Red was still a twenty-something woman was a few red streaks in the otherwise long, dark brown, wavy hair. Hence the nickname.
“Morning Emma.” The M.E. was one of the few people on the force that ever called her by her name, even her partner Neal called her Swan. Every Officer referred to her as Detective Swan. She was called other names when the Officers believed she could not hear them. Black Bitch being her favorite. It had an enjoyable ring to it, like Wonder Woman. She smiled slightly at the thought.
“A passerby noticed something in the water from EDIC Pier and called it in.” Emma squatted next to the M.E. Observing the Harbor Police returning with a body bag in one of their speedboats. Red turned mischievous eyes to the detective. “Who is going to lose their breakfast first?” Emma returned a rare smile, just for the doctor. She looked over her shoulder to some of the newer Officers, all so eager to be part of this.
“That one,” she indicated with her head. “Poor kid hardly fits into his vest. I will put money on him.” Doctor Lucas gave a little giggle and called Emma’s partner over.
“Have something for us already Doc?” He asked in his boyish way. “No,” she whispered. “The body is coming in; I want to put a twenty on that Officer.” Neal looked at the kid. “Yikes, good spot Doc. Wish I had seen him earlier. That one is a sure go.”
“Neal!” Emma reproached him.
“What? You say far worse things all the time!” He accused like a child. She gave him a half smile; he was almost relieved. Emma and Red got up as the Harbor Patrol pulled in and moved the body bag onto the pier.
The Detectives and Doctor Lucas took out their gloves that they always carried with them to crime scenes. The commotion on the pier drew the attention of the Officers; they positioned themselves a distance from where the body bag was placed. Emma looked up into another smiling young face, who greeted them. “Swan, Cassidy, Doc.”
“Junior!” They greeted him in chorus. He sighed. He hated the nickname. Emma gave him a friendly pat on the back. If the truth should ever be told, she liked Liam Jones much better than his older brother Killian Jones from District D4.
“What did you find Liam?” Red asked him in her calm, serious voice.
“Can’t tell Doc. The body is a bit boiled.” It was Harbor Patrol slang for a much-decomposed floater.
“Great! Just great.” Neal said, sounding anything but enthusiastic. Emma gave a grim smile, and the M.E. called the officers closer.
“Come kiddies, time to learn.” They all knew better than to get too close, the M.E. and the detectives will work, and they will watch. Red smiled at Emma, who winked back and then the M.E. opened the bag. Most of the officers were leaning in, trying to get a better look, they all backed off the moment the smell in the bag reached them. Red won the bet when her rookie puked all over his shoes as a crap climbed out of an eye socket, the other eye a ghostly glassy blue, staring at nothing in the distance. The body was indeed in a state. “Neal, bag that crab!” Red told him as the little fellow tried to make its way out of the body bag. He shook his head, but an evidence bag appeared, as he firmly got hold of the crab and bagged it. The officer closest to him sealed the bag and wrote the evidence description for the forensic team that would handle it later. Crab right eye socket. Doctor Lucas’s team was still on their way. The rookie lost the remainder of his stomach.
The four looked at the poor soul, who would never live the humiliation down. They returned their analytical eyes towards the body. Emma was the first to notice the movement. “Oh shit!” She yelled as she grabbed the doctor and started to run. Neither Neal nor Liam knew what was going on, but Neal had been with Emma long enough to know, if she runs, there was a bad reason for it, he followed.
The officer that was recording the entire scene since the body landed on the pier leaned in with the camera to see what the fuss was about. He could see some abdominal movement and thought it odd, then, boom. Emma and Red ran as fast as they could. Emma had no idea what the gas radius would be. She just knew she did not want to be remotely close to it. They stopped when they hit the police line. Emma turned back around and took a deep breath.
“Oh god! Don’t move!” She yelled at all the officers. Neal and Liam came to a halt a few yards from them. Neal had his shoulders up, clearly shivering with the thought of what just happened.
“Are we clear?” He asked Emma with a grimace on his face. Liam was swallowing his breakfast back, pale as a sheet.
“Turn around!” Emma yelled at them. They slowly turned, and she let out an eewe! Neal shrieked again. “Great, just great.” Red looked at Emma and then noticed the huge grin on her face.
“You are viciously evil Detective.” She whispered to the blonde. Emma looked at the officer at the line.
“Bet you thought you drew the shitty straw this morning officer Douglas when the assignments were handed out?” He burst into laughter, his disgusted look gone. “Yes, ma’am.”
Emma walked up to Liam and Neal where they still stood frozen. She let out an hmm as she inspected them. She patted Neal on the shoulder.
“Better stay here until forensics pitch up. The CSI’s will need to bag and tag you both.” She looked forward to the officers. The one most in shock was the cameraman. He looked as if he was unable to breathe.
“Officer Gordon!” She called. The man had his eyes closed. There was no way he was going to answer her. “Stand still I will send the forensic team to you first. It is going to be all right!” He nodded, feeling everything but all right. She looked at the rookie.
“Jennings, try to vomit somewhere that will not contaminate the crime scene more! That goes for all of you. If you have to puke, please pick an open spot.” In the direct vicinity of the body, there were not a lot of open spots. It was a forensic nightmare, the gas in the body had built up during decomposition and now burst through the solar plexus. Leaving liquid human remains everywhere. She turned back to Douglas.
“Can I borrow your radio Officer?” He handed it to her without question. “Dispatch, this is 8 Fox 4620.”
“Go ahead, 4620.”
“We have a possible 311 at EDIC Pier. How far out is the forensics team?”
“ETA two minutes Detective.”
“We are going to need more assistance and hazmat.” There was silence for a moment. “Dispatch did you copy?”
“Copy 4620. What is the problem?”
“Bloated body erupted, I have Officers covered in body fluids, I will need a medical team ASAP to deal with any toxins.”
“Copy Detective, units are on their way. Over.”
“10 – 4” Emma sighed. It was a mess. “Doc?”
Doctor Lucas tore her eyes away from the scene in front of her to look into the green eyes of the Detective. She rarely saw Emma in the brightness of day without her designer sunglasses. Her eyes were beautiful, like the rest of her. Emma Swan was indeed the vision of perfection, anatomically speaking. Red Lucas often wondered why the woman was still single.
“Four or five days!” Red blurred out, and Emma frowned.
“Oh, the body. Yes.” Her grave expression was back. “With all this damage and time, will you be able to determine the cause of death?” Red looked back at the pier. “Hard to tell detective. Once I have her back, I will call you?”
Emma gave the scene another look. “Thanks, Doc.” She said as she started to walk off. “Hey Swan, what the hell?” Her partner yelled at her. “Need to be in court Cassidy. Testifying in front of Judge Gold and as much as he likes me, I doubt he will appreciate me on the stand smelling like a decomposed body, I need to change before they call me.” She continued to walk away. “Sure you can handle it!” She waved over her shoulder without looking at him.
Detective Swan felt better after a shower and fresh clothes. When it was her turn to testify on the stand, she gave the Judge a small smile, which he returned. It surprised most people that the stunning cop could get a smile out of the hard ass. Detective Swan had the reputation of a cold bitch, and the Judge was known to be a heartless bastard, perhaps that was what they shared. Some years ago, Emma would have agreed with every remark cast at Judge Gold.
********
She met Judge Gold under very different circumstances. A young rebellious Emma appeared in a closed court before him to decide whether or not to try her as an adult. She was seventeen. Her Public Defense Attorney gave her no chance and did very little to help. It was superfluous with Judge Gold. The nickname given to him by convicted criminals was The Crocodile. During his judgment, you did not see him coming, then he would pounce, locking his jaws onto you, dragging you into the dregs of muddled waters, as his harsh verdict was announced. That was the way the timid, graying man walking with the assistance of a cane, was described to her while she was in holding, awaiting her prelim. She thought the other inmates tried to scare her; there was no need, Emma was pissing herself as it was. It was her third arrest, and they were pushing to prosecute her as an adult. She had a shitty past and from the looks of it an even shittier future. The Judge stopped preceding in the middle of the prosecutor’s argument.
“Let me get this straight?” He said in a voice, clenched through his teeth. “The accused, on all three occasions, stole food and money to feed her younger foster siblings because the care they resided in choose to utilize State money given to them for drugs?” He questioned with a stiff grin and closed teeth. “That would be correct Your Honor.”
“Then why is she in my court and not her foster parents?” The prosecutor had no answer. He turned to address her directly.
“Miss Swan, did you know you were breaking the law?” She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.” His eyes narrowed.
“Then why did you break the law?” Her eyes teared up.
“None of us had eaten in four days. I was the oldest. I promised to get them food, and I did.” He looked at her. She was young and scared, but defiant.
“If I release you Miss Swan and you land up in the same circumstances, will you steal again?” Her green eyes met his. Yes, certainly defiant. “Yes Sir, I would.” Her counsel did not even respond. She just sat down. In her mind the kid just buried herself.
Judge Gold placed his palms together as his arms rested on his bench. “I see.” He turned to speak to his assistant. The young man nodded and left the court. He turned to Emma again. “You Miss Swan are a waste of the Court and the States money.” As he said the words, he could see the fire rise in the green eyes. “I think it is time you return the favor to the State.” She swallowed, but the intense stare at the imposing figure did not waver for a moment. “I am ready to pass judgment.” The prosecutor looked to the defense counsel and both objected. He waved them silent. “Miss Swan, it is obvious that you have no respect for the Justice System nor have you the skill or capability to apply yourself to the State System. Therefore I will give you a choice. I determine that you are of a sound mind to be tried under the law as an adult, seeing as you are so eager to play the role despite knowing the difference. Your choice is, therefore, to stand trial and be judged by a jury on your actions or, you can accept my immediate punishment and save the State additional funds?” Emma’s legs gave out, and she sat with a heavy heart. Her counsel said something to her, but she never comprehended the words. She merely looked at the Judge and nodded, avoiding the inevitable. “I need you to speak up Miss Swan as a matter of Court record?” She stood again. “I will accept your punishment, Your Honor.” Her voice was small in the empty court.
Judge Gold nodded as if he approved of her decision. “Very well. Emma Swan, on the count of two charges of Misdemeanor petty theft I find you guilty and sentence you to two years of Military Service per charge on the account that this is not your first misdemeanor! Your record will be sealed as you are still a minor, but understand me clear Miss Swan, any infringement of any kind during your time in the military will be added to your current charges. Serve your time and learn to protect people in a disciplined manner, for the next time you land in my court, I will not be so lenient.” He slammed his gravel and with the deafening sound Emma’s life ended. The Prosecutor looked pleased. The Defense was shocked. Before Emma knew what hit her, she was back in the holding cells. She spent one more night there before a Marine Officer came to get her and took her to Parris Island for boot camp.
She hated Judge Gold. She hated him with every fiber in her. With every exercise, every officer yelling at her, her hatred towards the man increased. After her six months of basic training, she got offered a chance to finish her high school diploma. Not long after that she was shipped off to Afghanistan and did two tours. Afghanistan was not her friend. She lost a lot there, but she also got the opportunity to study. At the end of her four years, she was a decorated officer with an honorable discharge; she had one year of study left to complete her degree in Criminal Psychology. She joined the Police Academy with two of her friends from her former unit. Neal and James.
Judge Gold received an invitation to her graduation and her surprise, he accepted. It was a day that Neal would never forget. Emma was beaming in a way he had never seen before. When she made her way through the crowd with purpose, he grabbed hold of her. Neal swung her into his arms. Her eyes sparkled, and as he held her, she kissed him. His heart swelled in his chest; it was the only time in his life he wished that Emma was more than only a friend. “Let me go!” She protested as she wiggled out of his arms and made her way to the older man in an impeccable suit leaning on a cane, aside from the crowd. “Judge Gold! You came.” Her eyes sparkled as she greeted the man. Since he received the invitation, he had wondered why a stranger would invite him to her graduation, seeing as most students only received two tickets. She knew him, but he had no recollection of her.
“I have to apologize Dearie, but I do not recall you?” She smiled at him.
“I will accept that as a compliment Sir.” She held out her hand to him. “Emma Swan.”
“Your invitation said as much, you have never been in my court, so how do you know me, Miss Swan?” Emma inhaled.
“I have been in your court, almost five years ago. You sealed my record before you did, you shipped me off to boot camp. Two counts of Misdemeanor petty theft, third arrest. You told me I am wasting the States money and that I should repay it, hence boot camp.” He gave a small chuckle. He remembered now.
“Well, well Miss Swan, you are certainly not the angry teen I sentenced.” She felt a wave of pride rush through her.
“Hence the invitation Your Honor. I wanted to show you how I have changed and thank you. At the time it felt like a sentence straight to hell, but for whatever reason, you gave me an opportunity, I wanted to show you I did not squander it, Sir.” He nodded in acknowledgment. “You changed my life, Sir, for the better and I felt the urge to share it with you. I know that as a Judge you will see little if any appreciation for your work, never mind actual rehabilitation.”
“Well, I am glad that you turned your life around Miss Swan. What are your plans now?”
“I joined the BPD Sir. I still want to help people.” She took a wrapped gift from the leather satchel she had slung over her shoulder and gave it to him. “It is something small, to thank you.” He tore the paper to look at the four photos in the frame. One of Emma receiving her Private insignia, the next in her Marine Blues, rank, Lance Corporal, her Purple Heart for combat pinned to her chest. The next was Emma in her BPD Officer uniform and the photo she took the day before in her graduation toga. “Thank you, Miss Swan.”
********
Detective Swan knew that the photo was still in his office to this day. Very few people in her life knew of her relationship with the Judge. She did not see him often, but when she did, he always got that little smile she rarely gave anyone, any longer. Her testimony went smooth. The bastard was guilty, the evidence overwhelming and with Judge Gold residing, he was looking at a hefty sentence.
Emma returned to the station on West Broadway in the afternoon. As she walked into the office, greet her partner, she was met with a look and a fuck you! She raised her eyebrow and then remembered the state she left him in.
“How long did you suffer there?” She asked amused.
“Too long! You are a bitch monster, and there is a special hell for your kind Swan!” She sat on the corner of his desk.
“Did everyone survive?” He shook his head.
“The kid is in a bad state, Lt. wants to see you by the way.” She gave him a pat on his back and made her way to the Lieutenant’s office.
The Lieutenant waved her in, but she stood by the door while he finished a call. “Swan.” Why the hell did he always say my name with a sigh she wondered? “Yes, Sir.” He did not invite her to sit. All bad signs. “Heard you had an incident this morning.”
“Yes, Sir.” He blew a puff of air through his nose.
“And then you left the scene.” He stated.
“I had court, Sir.” He slammed his palm on the desk and stood up to tower over her.
Lieutenant Spencer was an imposing man for his age. He was tall and still displayed broad shoulders. His number two cut, hiding his thinning hair, his gray eyes piercing through her.
“That, Swan, is the problem. You had court! You were not even supposed to be at the scene!” It was not the first time he yelled at her about the matter. He blew another sigh through his nose and sat down. “How was court?” It was a high profile case, drug smuggler that killed his partner.
“Judge Gold will bury him, Sir,” Emma answered, Spencer nodded.
“The rookie from this morning is in a bad state. I need you to go and see him and Gordon.” She turned her head slightly.
“Are they ill, Sir?” His eyes glared at her again.
“No Swan, as disgusting as the scene was, they will not end up with an unpronounceable disease. Their mental states are a different matter.”
She frowned. “Sir, I am not a shrink.” Despite her degree, she often had to remind her Lieutenant of the fact.
“And yet, it was not a request.” He stated flatly; she indicated her understanding. “What about the Melissa May and Heather Cole cases?” Her shoulders deflated a bit.
“They are still open cases Sir.” He looked at her.
“You close cases faster than any other detective.”
“I normally have more forensic evidence to work with Sir.”
“Do you still think that the cases are related? Despite the forensic evidence you do have?” She heard the irritation in his voice. She wanted to let out a deep sigh and tell him to go fuck himself. “No Sir, until there are indications other than my gut, I am investigating the cases as separate, I work on them every day.” He shook his head. He knew both were bad; he also knew that he was lucky to have her on the case, most of his detectives were men. All of them had a hard time looking at the case file.
“Go and see those officers.” He ended and picked up the phone again. She took it as her dismissal and walked out of his office.
Neal already left, still pissed at her. There was a note on her desk that the autopsy of the floater was early the next morning. She stretched her back as she sat down in her chair and opened her bottom drawer. She took out the two files there and placed it in her all present satchel. She would look at them again. She knew they were related, even though, as Spencer pointed out to her, yet again, there were no forensic evidence or personal connections between the women. The cases lay open on her desk for the last two months. She grunted a goodbye to the few people that remained and got into her issued car. It would be a slow drive to Boston Mass General in traffic. On the trip, she thought about what she might say to the two officers. The only reason why she ran was that she saw it before, in Afghanistan. She saw many things there. Truth be told, she saw a lot of things here. Man’s inhumanity towards man…
Her thoughts wandered back to the May and Cole cases. In all honesty, she could not depict which murder was worse. Her mind was still dwindling on the woman when she parked her car and entered the hospital. She asked for the rooms of the officers and made her way to Jennings first. To say that the kid was in a state was an understatement. She watched him through the open door for a while. He was shivering under the blankets.
Emma came to sit by him on the only chair in the room. He did not look at her, in fact, he buried his face deeper into his pillow. There was no use to ask the obvious questions. The Detective laid a hand on his shoulder and started to talk.
“Your Training Officer told me that you want to quit. Believe it or not, I wanted to do the same thing. That is why I ran this morning. I knew what was coming, I have seen it before. The moment that abdomen moved, I knew. Last time I was on the receiving end of it, like you today.” She paused, thinking back to that terrible day. The worst and most humiliating day of her life, or so she thought at the time. “I was dehydrated, and despite that, I lost what little I had in my stomach, I dry heaved for ages.” She started to rub his back in slow circles as she continued in a soft voice. “I was so scared. I thought that I would die of some disease or the toxins from the shit that was on me. I could not breathe, the smell was terrible. I was the only one throwing up; my unit thought it hysterical.” She wiped a single tear that crept into her eye. “It was a kid, about ten or so. He was dead for about five days when we discovered him. He was bloated, and the next thing I knew, the buildup gas inside him erupted. You see a lot of shit in war, but sometimes, god they creep into your mind and fester there. That was why I wanted to quit. The image and smell did not go away, even after I cleaned myself a few times. All I wanted was to soak in a bath until I could not smell that boy any longer.”
She kept quiet; the rookie dared to look at her. “What happened?” He asked in a soft tone. She returned his uncertain look with a sad one of her own. “We stumbled onto his village half a day’s walk away. Everyone and everything slaughtered. We could smell it more than a click out. It was ten times worse.” He turned his head into his pillow; she continued to rub his back. “That was war, kid. This is Boston. Today would most likely be the worst day of your entire career because I can assure you, what happened to you today, happens to very few cops.” She waited for him to look at her again. He did, and he cried unashamedly. Emma got up and shooed him over, she took him into her arms and let him cry. She held him; there were no reassuring words or gentle cooing, Emma merely held him until he stopped. He wiped his face. “Sorry.” She smiled at him.
“No worry kid, wish I could do that.” She held his face and wiped another tear with her thumb. Everything about her actions and her presence was so unlike her and very much the opposite of what he heard of the stone cold detective.
She looked at him, deep into his eyes. “Officer Jennings, your T.O. says a lot of good things about you, including that you are an upstanding man. We need cops like you. I can tell you that today will be hard. The next few days might be hard, you will struggle to sleep, but kid, this job does not get worse than what you experienced today.” He looked down. He did not want her to see his doubt and fear. “I can’t eat.”
“I understand. Try fresh vegetables. It will take a while.” She lifted his chin. “Promise me that you will come and talk to me before you make your decision?” He nodded. “Good.” She gave him her card. “Call anytime. No matter what hour, I don’t sleep a lot. For anything, if you need me to smuggle in a beer or your favorite biscuits, call me?” He returned her sad smile from before.
“Thank you, Detective.” She patted his leg.
“And go to your counseling sessions.” He frowned. “Believe me, Jennings, they help.”
Her conversation with Gordon was similar. Telling her story, creating a bond, encourage him without sympathizing. Make him feel. Tell him that he is a man. He did handle the thing better. However, he also had the same problems. He could not get the smell out of his mind. She took a jar out of her bag.
“Here.” He looked at it suspiciously. She sighed. “It’s not girly stuff!” She opened the jar and took some of the content out and smeared it under his nose. For the first time that day, he took a deep breath. Emma knew that by now the smell was more mental than real, but she understood. His nostrils filled with eucalyptus and other herbs. She could see him calm down significantly. “Thank you.”
Emma gave him a half smile. “Sure.” She got up. “I had a look at the video you took. It will make for good educational material, but more so, there was a very nervous, scaly character that you filmed more than once. I think you got us a suspect.” It was a lie, but one that he needed to hear right now. “So good work Gordon.” He felt relief wash over him. Praise from the Dark Swan was rare.
“Now get some rest and here, call me if you need anything?” He smiled. He already felt better. “Thank you, Detective.” She waved at him, “Sure, get better.”
When she finally got home, she took a beer and a half-eaten pizza out of the fridge. She did not bother to warm up the food. She sat on her couch, eating, relaxing for a moment in her modest but comfortable apartment. She closed her eyes for a few minutes, thinking of her day. As shitty days go, this one did, not even rank in the top one hundred of the worst days. Sure Jennings and Gordon would have it as their number one for a while, but the sad truth about life was that everyone’s worst day, eventually was replaced by another. It was inevitable.