Crime (h.s. au)

Chapter Eighteen

Harry

"Her name is Katrina Meyers. She's 20 years old," I say to the special victims unit, talking to them about all of the information I have. I've never worked with them before, and I already don't like it. Not because of them, but because of how heinous these cases are.

"Do we have any information about the person who did this?" one of the officers asks, and I shake my head.

"The crime scene investigators are still at the scene," I inform them, and they nod. "Lieutenant is still at the hospital with her. I'm under the assumption the girl is not in the mindset to speak with men."

"That's understandable. The trauma is immense in these cases," the officer tells me, and I nod.

"They are at the hospital. You can meet them there; I have to attend to the scene here," I explain, shaking their hands before I go out to the scene.

I walk out to the bridge, taking a look at everything the technicians have laid out.

"There's not much. Her pants and shoes were found down about thirty feet. We found a cellphone, more than likely hers because of the case," the woman tells me, and I take a look. The case has a pink outline, and a picture set between the phone and the case.

"Pair of gloves?" I ask, one of the technicians handing me a pair. I observe the jeans and see dirt covering them, but nothing else. I grab the phone and click the power button, seeing a few notifications on it. One is from a man by the name of Jonah, but the messages are covered unless the phone's unlocked.

"We'll take the evidence to the station, but other than those items, I'm afraid there's nothing else," the woman tells me, and I nod. I remove the gloves and dispose of them, thanking the investigators.

My phone starts to ring and I reach into my pocket to retrieve it, seeing Ava's name on the screen.

"Is she okay?" I ask as soon as I answer, trying to find out if Katrina is talking. I'm not sure she will for a while, but I'm hoping she can at least let us know something.

"She hasn't really moved. Her eyes are open and she's on oxygen," she explains, and I close the squad car door once I get in.

"I'll be down there in a little bit. Do you want me to find her information to call her family?" I ask as I fasten my seatbelt.

"Yes please. You know where I'll be," she says, hanging up the phone right after. I drive down to the station and start filtering through files, identifying the Katrina Meyers in question. I find her address and the name of the residents. It's a couple with a different last name, but I give the number a call.

"This is Dennis Olsen," I hear a man say.

"Hi. This is Detective Styles from the Manhattan Police Department. I'm calling in regard to Katrina Meyer," I say, and I hear a muffle on the phone.

"Is everything alright? Please tell me she's alright," I hear Dennis say, my hand grabbing my chin.

"We have taken her to the general hospital. We received a phone call from her and we found her at Landon Park. She's in rough shape," I explain. It's never easy to receive this news, but at lease Katrina is alive.

"We'll be there as fast as we can," he tells me, and I hang up the phone. I grab the keys once more and make my way down to the hospital. My hand runs through my hair and I struggle to think about what might have happened to this girl. There are some sick bastards in this world, and now there's one on the loose.

I park at the hospital and walk in, meeting Ava at the front desk. She looks up at me, her gray eyes meeting mine.

"How is she?" I ask, and she looks over to the room.