Detective Brenner grabbed his coffee out of its cupholder and slammed the door to his car. Something told him that being called in on his day off was not a good sign. Though he didn't have the kids for the weekend, he still would have loved to sleep in.
He pushed his way through the clear glass doors and nodded at the officer scheduled for desk duty and thanked God again that he had graduated to detective a couple of months ago.
His desk sat in the middle of the Narcotics division, piled high with cases and statements. Sometimes it was chaotic, but he didn't mind. Detectives flew around the precinct, answering calls on tip lines, interviewing witnesses, detaining suspects. There was always a lot going on and it just came with being on the job.
"About damn time, Brenner. Let's go. 10-54 in Compton," his partner Det. Landry relayed.
"Why did you need to call me in for a possible dead body? And shouldn't Compton be handling that? This is LA," he sighed. The city was big enough as is. They didn't have the money or the resources to be worrying about other cities.
He really wished he could have been in his bed.
"I'on wanna hea' allat complaining, Dingo. Where I'm from we don't do alladat, you just handle yo' business. They're calling us in because it's connected to one of our other cases." Landry's southern accent was like an itch in his ear, but he was beginning to get used to it. Looking past how her voice sounded, he started to realize what her words meant. She could only be talking about the case that kept him up at night and all his weekends busy.
The case against Braxton Wright.
Unfortunately, traffic ate up most of their time. All Brenner wanted to do was hurry up and get to the crime scene. It was making him anxious that they may have found a lead.
"Looks like you finna shit yourself. Calm down, Fido." She cackled at her own joke.
"Why do you keep calling me dog names? I'm sick of this," he mumbled to himself.
Landry smacked. "You too soft, tighten the fuck up. And get out." She parked the vehicle next to a couple of PD cars with their blue and red sirens flashing light everywhere. Brenner hopped out and put a pair of latex gloves on, striding over to the medical examiner. He ducked under the yellow caution tape.
He squatted over the body, instantly recognizing the face. "Ta'Carlon Simmons," he said. Behind him, Landry let out a few curses under her breath.
The world knew him as Carti, but the two of them knew him as a payday. If he would have kept going like he was, he'd have led them straight to their target and the whole ring would have collapsed on itself. Looks like someone had gotten to him before they could.
"Severed carotid artery. Looks like something jagged pierced it. He bled out in minutes." The ME picked him over, but something caught Brenner's eye. Nestled deep in his scalp was a coil of hair that didn't seem to match his own low cut. He grabbed some tweezers from the examiner and plucked it out.
"Got sumn?" Landry came in close to get a better look. He hated her poor concept of personal space and tried his best to ignore her. "Maybe his killer's hair? Bag it," he tucked it safely away inside a small ziplock bag and handed it to the forensics team. Hopefully, they could get somewhere with that DNA evidence.
"How do you suppose we go about finding his killer?"
"Well, Milo. It's too damn many people that's out for his ass and we can't risk all the progress we made by asking too many questions. We might get sumn' off that hair you just pulled, doubt it though," Landry spoke. She was hating on him but that's what they always did to rookies.
YOU ARE READING
BANGIN' (Urban)
Romance[COMPLETE] Nadine and Braxton were not supposed to meet, or ever cross paths. Their worlds were different, yet connected at the same time. But now that they've met, it's not likely that they will ever be the same again. Her, an addict who uses sex...
