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"I've been so busy recently regarding Angelica's enrollment I had forgotten to give you a call." I say apologetically to my sister at the other end of the phone. "It's okay, I understand." She says back, she sounds lighter and more like herself now.
I dropped Angelica off in her classroom to make sure she was comfortable, but she was far from it. I can see that she is trying her best to seem like she is fine with everything, but God, how much more can she take?
"You can tell me now, I'm free."
I had thirty minutes before I go and investigate the crime scenes of the most recent murder from the Rose Murderer.
She talks and I take down the most important points as she speaks.
Tall, brown skin, long locs, dark eyes, moderately muscular. Last seen by his father Jeremiah Cooper Brown Had a wrecked relationship with his parent
"Thank you so much for this, Aia, I don't know how I can thank you..." She says, her voice heavier and more comfortable. "I already told you, Hannah."
We talk for a few more minutes and she tells me about her new job as a waitress at a cafe.
I'm happy for her, truly.
. . .
My lip scrunched up in pure horror. This before me did not even look like a crime scene. It looked like any modern house. Clean and all tidy. "Where was he killed?" I ask my team. "The body was found hung upside down in the back yard, but it was assumed he was dragged from the kitchen to the backyard." I slip on my gloves and inspect everything. I take pictures of the rug and the sparkling clean tiles. "Get these tested." I order as I rub a cotton bud on the tile and slip it into a ziploc bag.
I do the same thing with all the kitchen appliances so I can scan for any fingerprints or the smallest bit of blood remaining.
The police have sealed this location until further notice. Though it was weird how this mans wife did not seem the slightest bit startled by his horrifying demise. "Where is his family?"
"They are staying with the grandmother." He recites their location to me.
"There isn't much here, get Quinn Abraham in my office within the next hour."
. . .
"What happened to your husband, Mrs Abraham?" Still pure silence. "If you don't utter a word in the next few seconds, I'll have no choice but to give you in as a suspect."
I see horror in her eyes at the mention of going to jail. "But my kids—"
"If you care about your kids and then speak and save yourself and them from the torture." I already have my black pen and note book out. "Okay," She breathes, talking herself through it. "It started a few months ago..."
"He would... hit me and my children. It got so tiring, my friend recommended this organization. It–It is made for woman and children—anyone— in need of help. I called and asked for assistance, he was going to kill me that night. My kids were locked in a room and hiding under the bed, he was after me with a knife. These people got to my house within three minutes. Faster than the police I called ten minutes before."
I scribble it down in my notepad. This is not just a single person, it's a whole ass organization. Who are these people trying to rebel against the law and police systems?
"I didn't do anything to stop him when he tore my husbands life to shreds. He is brutal, but he made sure to remove all the blood so the kids weren't traumatized." She said the last part as if he touched her heart in various ways. "Getting your husband murdered isn't something you should be proud of, Mrs. Abraham."
Her brows farrow offensively, "Would you rather prefer to be investigating the death of a wife at the hands of her abusive husband and the assault of five year olds than a murder of a man who inflected pain upon others?"
I stop writing, "No, why would you think that, Mrs. Abraham?"
It is true my job forbids me from promoting any kind of crime, but I also have personal opinions. Like how I'm not against this organization or its tactics, but my profession is before my opinion. "It is obvious, this was a case of self defense. What more?"
"Murder," I breathe, "Cold blood murder."
"Please." She rolls her eyes and takes her Louis Vuitton purse. "You're a woman too, ma'am. Why are you disregarding my truama just because I wasn't the one that died?" She says, frustrated. "Unbelievable."
She slams my door.
I delt with a few that had her temper. It makes me stay up at night with remorse stabbing my chest with a sharp knife.
Inhuman, heartless, cold...
I'm all of those but I try to make them understand. A crime is a crime.
No one is superior when it comes to law and it is my job to do what I do.
And now my job requires me to expose this organization, I have got my lead.
My phone vibrates with a notification.
We got a piece of clothing in the backyard that didn't belong to Mr. Abraham. I've already took it to the lab for some testing.
