The Sixth Of June (ON HOLD)

1

"THIS IS THE THIRD homicide this week." Parish Kent said as he looked at the dead body before him.

He sighed as he pushed a lock of his blonde hair back; it was short enough to make him look professional, but long enough to let you know that he was still in charge.

He was tall; had a nice set of toned abs; had the pretty face to go along with it, as well the charisma. He was everyone's favourite.

Well, everyone except Dylan Kavanaugh.

"Get the coroner for an autopsy, Detective Kavanaugh."

"You could do it yourself." Dylan sneered.

"Sorry, did you say something, Detective?" He turned around to face her but she was long gone.

To fetch the coroner of course.

She couldn't stand him. And she couldn't stand herself for not letting go.

It was three months already!

They were the ideal couple. Back then, two years ago, they had started dating when she was working on a big case.

Two years was a lie. A big fat lie.

And she fell for him.

Oh, she fell hard. Like out of a plane without a parachute, right in your dumb fucking face kind of hard.

It turned out that he only dated her so he could take the glory after she cracked her case.

And that he fucking did.

"Ella, are the forensic reports the same as the last one?" Dylan asked the petite dark-haired forensic scientist who'd been giving Parish googly-eyes all morning.

"Yeah. And I don't think these attacks are random anymore."

"I never thought they were random in the first place but go ahead."

"Okay, so it turns out that our guy loves detail."

"How so?"

"I found this-" She pointed to a syringe on the floor of the beaten-up apartment.

Anyone could have missed this single detail.

But not Ella.

"Is that a-"

"Yup. He drugs them, more like makes them a weak a little bit so they can struggle a little and maybe when he's done laughing at them hopelessly trying to get free-"

"He slits their throat and removes their vocal cords." Dylan finished.

Just as the coroner passed by, she stopped him.

"Excuse me for a minute." She unzipped the bag to look at the dead body once more.

**

"So you're saying no one on that street noticed anything unusual going on?" Dylan said, talking on the phone.

"Okay, I'll call ya back." When she turned around, the first thing she noticed was how Parish was flirting shamelessly with Ella.

On the fucking crime scene? Give her a damn break.

"Girl, you have got to get over it." A brown skinned woman her age walked up to her with a cup of coffee in both hands.

"I will eventually, April. It's not like I can kill them so I don't get to see them for the rest of my life."

April laughed. And the atmosphere started to feel less tense.

"Did you see your face, girlfriend? You've been shooting daggers all morning."
"Coffee?"

She asked before Dylan even got the chance to say something else.

"Thanks." Dylan took a sip of her coffee.

Triple espresso evap.

How she loved to start her day.

"April, how many times do I have to remind you that you're not supposed to be at crime scenes?"

"Uh uh, sis. You don't get to scold me after I just gave your ungrateful ass coffee that I bought with my own paycheck."

"Hey, my ass is not ungrateful." Dylan deadpanned.

"Shut up, fool."

"April..."

" Take a break, Dyl. You've been hanging with dead bodies these days. This case you're working on is eating you up."

" I wish it were that simple, you shitbird. This is a serious case."

"That was what you said about the last one, and that didn't go so well." April said, looking at Parish who was now coming their way.

"Detective Kavanaugh, "

"I'm gonna kill that mother fucker sooner than you think."

                           °°°
Oh sweetie, not before I do.