Devil's Nest

Chapter Two: The Devil's Advocate

The office held an unusually smell, a mixture of cigarettes, coffee and liquor from the alcoholics that they called cops. It was a regular thing to drink after a job, to get rid of the day and the bad things that followed. For the homicide department, it was all part of the job to see deaths; they must see death to save a life or in their case- several lives. When Leslie accepted the promotion from being a desk sloth, it was the greatest day of her life. The first year was rocky, she could not handle the bodies like the others nor could pushed the memories away when she clocked out. Now... now it was different, Leslie was the top detective in her unit; she gets the job done and push it all away when walking out the office building.

Leslie eyed the crime scene pictures as if it were family portraits, clicking her pen while making predictions on why. Two strippers, both beaten to death in the one mile radius, money still on their body, and both having the stamp imprint.

Miles stepped inside her cubicle, a freshly printed paper in his hand. "Found some information on Olivia. Apparently she testified against this guy named, Albert Olson two years ago- she didn't go under witness protection. She also had several warrants for hit and run, arson, theft, and prostitution; no wonder they didn't give her the deal."

Leslie sighed heavily while grabbing the paper and looking it over. "So, two strippers, worked in Andrea's Palace, one has a thick record while the other has nothing but parking tickets, both has the ring imprint, and died in the one mile radius of Andrea's. Have you spoke to Carl about the stamp?"

"He's right on that, going through every database in evidence to see if they have a match. There's no fingerprints on the body nor hair, this guy was playing safe; maybe it was planned. Both girls must of knew something that wasn't supposed to be known." Miles shrugged his shoulders before taking a seat at his cubicle across from Leslie's. "How was the date?"

She rolled her eyes slowly, "I left before he could say his name. Do I look desperate? I mean..."

"Desperate, nah. You're just very strong for most men."

"Men are pussies." Leslie said out loud, not caring about her co-workers who are mostly males.

Miles laughed while shaking his head at her bold words. "I can admit, I like my woman soft. My wife would cry when that dog donations commercial will come on and she can't kill a spider. One time Shelly called me from the precinct to catch a rat in the basement, I had to take an early lunch, wrestle a mouse and get back before the lieutenant push even more work on me."

Leslie chuckled while stuffing the photos back into the thin file. "Didn't your wife grow up in Maine? Went to an all girl border school and lived with her grandmother that, quote: 'Has a stick so far up her ass that she could be a puppet', unquote? Growing up in a society where woman are housewives and must serve their husbands until they die, makes some soft in men eyes."

"Well they all can't live in the middle of a swamp in a all boy family that catches snakes for a living."

"They didn't catch snakes, they fished and occasionally killed alligators, but that's not the point. Men need to stop complaining rather women are too soft or too strong. Take what you can get, be glad we want to touch you with a twelve inch pole and eat the food that we cooked for you."

"You said you left the guy, the guy didn't leave you?"

Leslie scoffed before throwing the pen at his forehead. "You know I'm right."

Another male loud mouth stepped up, he leaned over Leslie's computer- making him look twice as a child than he already was. However, his voice was deep enough to be owned by a grown man. "Detective Anakin, Major Weber wants to speak to you. I also have the stamp print for you." Detective Carl hands her a thin folder before walking off to get his work done.