Chapter One: Primary Victim

finding the body...

Detective John Peter Kowalski pushed back his hair and sighed. Why were the people of America so careless when it came to driving?

     Jack was a short, but nonetheless in shape, kind of guy with blonde hair and blue eyes. A man of twenty seven, somewhat of a family man, he had a six year old daughter, Madeline. His baby mama had been his twenty year old girlfriend at the time. However, she left, leaving him with the baby.

     A punkass guy in a crimson Bugatti had practically run over a pedestrian. Jack absolutely hated being the bad cop, pun intended. He pulled the a*****e over, just as his cell rang. He glanced at the caller ID. It was Doug.

     "Kowalski," he said into the cellphone by habit, even though his partner knew very well who'd answered.

     "Jack, I got something. You gotta get down here," Doug informed him.

     Douglas Lawrence was a man of twenty nine. A handsome black man with black hair, brown eyes, and the hint of a beard. He had a wife, Shelby, who was pregnant with their first child. Having been Jack's partner for the last two years, the two were as close as any best friends could be.

     "Look, man," Jack explained. "I can't just leave. I have a 505 here."

     "A 505? Jack, come to 55 Stone Road Drive," Doug insisted.

     "I will. But, I have to deal with Red Bugatti first. I mean, I already pulled him over!" Jack told him.

     "Dude. I got a 187. Isn't that a little more your speed anyway?" Doug laughed.

     "Dude, I'll be there, soon as I hand out the ticket," Jack promised.

     "Eh, fair enough," Doug sighed. "Stewart isn't even here yet. See ya soon, man."

     "Yeah, see ya," Jack chuckled.

     Coby Stewart was a well respected member of the NYPD team. He was the chief medical examiner. Rather intelligent in his few years, the kid, eighteen years old, was the youngest M.E. in the NYPD building--also the brightest, skipping high school and most of middle school, graduating at eleven. He had short blonde hair on his head, accompanied with perplexing blue eyes. A crazy generous man, while he was not so great with people, no one could simply not like him. Since he was as young as he was, he still lived with his parents, Bill and Mary, and his siblings, Adam and Andi. An IQ of more than 170, he was considered a genius by everyone's standards.

     Jack opened his car door with a sigh. He really didn't enjoy this part. But, it had to happen. This kid could've killed someone, running up on the sidewalk like that.

     He replaced his cell back in his utility belt, which he was casually wearing with jeans and a black t-shirt. he went on and walked up to the red Bugatti, who, thankfully, had not tried to drive away while he was on the phone. The car had two kids, both couldn't be over nineteen. The driver was a teenager, perhaps seventeen, with skinny black jeans and a sleeveless white shirt, wearing a backwards hat on his mess of brown hair. The passenger, possibly sixteen, had on a pair of khaki trousers and a navy hoodie reading the words 'Female Body Inspector'. They were both turned around, each laughing at the other one's shenanigans.

     Jack rolled his eyes and knocked hard on the window, calling, "Hey!"

     The window rolled down. "Hey, man, you'd better not smudge that window. You have any idea what my dad paid for this ride?"

     Jack inwardly smiled. "No. But, I have a feeling that I don't really care. So, do you wanna take a guess at why I pulled you over?"

     "Not really, no," the kid in shotgun quipped. "It can't be that great, can it?"

     "Nope," Jack agreed. "See, your mistake was driving recklessly in front of a cop. Look, see that guy in the grass over there?" he motioned towards a man that had fallen into the grass to avoid being hit by the car. "Yeah, he was jogging, and you almost hit him. Fun stuff. So, license and registration?"

     "Sure," the driver said, handing over his license, along with the vehicle's registration.

     "Thank you. I'll be right back," Jack said, walking back to his car.

     Jack checked out Brian Newman's vehicle, and, lucky for Brian, found no previous complications with the law. So, he wrote up the ticket, and he walked back to the Bugatti.

     "Here's your ticket. It's for nine hundred. That's for careless driving. You didn't hit anyone, but you could've. So, be careful, okay? Have a nice day, guys." Jack nodded to them and walked back to his own car.

     The Bugatti was soon gone and Jack had gotten in his car, buckled his seatbelt, and was now ready to go to 55 Stone Road Drive, where, as Doug hadn't told him in English, but in police code, a homicide had been committed.

************

Jack arrived on the scene exactly half an hour after Doug had called him. The scene was a small, blue house with red shutters. Shortly after arriving, Doug ran up to him, saying, "Hey, you finally made it, man! Cobes just as well." Doug pointed in the direction of the house. "Determining time of death as we speak."

     "Kowalski!" a man called to Jack.

     Doug frowned. He whispered, "Boss wants to speak with you. That's not good."

     Jack rolled his eyes, saying, "Come on."

    They walked up to the front of the house, showed the guard their badges, and made their way under the tape, onto the porch of the house, where their boss, and lieutenant, was standing.

     Daniel Woods was a highly decorated member of the New York Police Department. A homicide lieutenant for nearly a decade, at forty seven, the man had a brown buzz cut, which had receded in the front. His hazel eyes made everyone, not just his team, freeze in their tracks. A wife, Reagan, he'd divorced five years ago, and he had two adult daughters; Cali, 25, and Preslie, 21. A strict man, he knew how to get his team to listen at times, but also knew how to be someone they could confide in and trust. A man of many talents, one might say.

     "Where the hell were you, Kowalski? You're late," his boss scolded him.

     Jack said quickly, "I know, boss, but, when Doug phoned me, I was giving a kid a ticket for reckless driving, so, uh, yeah, I couldn't actually be here right away. You see my predicament?"

     "Oh, yeah, yeah, sure. I mean, it'd be a little weird if you were coming here and handing out a ticket at the same time." Jack nodded along imploringly. Then, Woods added, "And I can see how giving a miscreant a ticket would be significantly more important than a young girl being a victim of manslaughter."

     Jack suddenly rebutted, "That's not what I meant, boss! I was...What I was saying is that...I'm not good with words."

     Woods said serenely, "I know, Jack. Scan the scene, you and Doug. Ask neighbors if they saw anything." They nodded and went off to questions the neighbors. Woods walked into the house. Coby was kneeling near the body in a pink and white bedroom. The victim was lying on the bed, bound at the legs and arms. She had a huge gash in her stomach. Blood was everywhere. "Hey, Cobe, you got anything?"

     Coby looked up into the eyes of his associate. "Actually, yes, Lieutenant. Quite a bit, really." Coby turned back to the body without another word.

     Woods looked at the young man a moment, then uttered, "Are you gonna share?"

     Coby looked up, "Oh, sorry. I forgot to say what I found, didn't I?"

     "Yep," Woods answered. "So, what did you find?"

     "Well, time of death, judging by the fresh blood on the bed, along with preservation, she couldn't of been dead too long. My estimation? Less than twelve hours ago. That's all I have until I can do an autopsy. As for cause of death, I believe it's due to loss of blood, or the doer could have hit a major organ. Would've bled out like that. However, it won't be certain until we get her back in autopsy," Coby explained.

     "Thanks, Cobes," Woods said, walking away to find two  of his other detectives, Alex Chance and Joey Derek, whom he had searching for the murder weapon in the house.

     Alexander Chance was a nice guy, aged thirty nine, a somewhat tall and thin man. He still had a full head of brown, fluffy hair, and strikingly blue eyes. A homicide detective for nine years. At home, he had a wife, Mandy, and four teenaged boys; Trevor, 17, Ethan, 16, Conor, 14, and Luke, 13. More than anything, he was a good man.

     Alex's partner, Joseph Derek, was a man of thirty four, with very little tact. He had brown hair, groomed back, with blue eyes. An overall good guy, he'd been in a rocky marriage for a little over twelve years. He'd been Alex's partner for a little over five. Unable to have any children of their own, his wife, Shannon, and he did what they could to adopt one. Eventually, they became the foster parents of a now eight year old girl, Annabelle, whose mom had died. Her father had lost custody when the drinking started, along with the ability to abuse his only daughter. But, no matter how they came to become her parents, nothing changed the fact that they loved her more than life itself.

     "We found a weapon, boss," Joey called to his superior, holding up a sealed evidence bag containing a keen edged knife caked with blood.

     Alex added,  "Could be a murder weapon." Woods nodded.

     A man in a suit came up to him. "Hey, uh, Lieutenant Woods?"

     Woods looked at him. "That's me."

     The suit smiled a little. "Oh, well, see that man over there? He's, um, chief of police. Um, also my boss. He told me to tell you that you can take the body now."

     "Okay," Woods said. When the suit didn't leave, Woods quipped, "Would you like a thank you?"

     The suit's smile slipped from his face, as he began to blush with embarrassment. He muttered, "No, no," and he retreated back to his boss.

     "You should really work on your people skills, boss," Alex told Woods.

     Woods looked at Alex. "I'm not working on anything. Look, he's fine." Alex rolled his eyes as Woods walked on to check on his last two detectives.

     One of the few female detectives who'd been in homicide, Jennifer Melbrooke, had long brown hair. Her eyes were of ebony. A beautiful woman of thirty three, she was not a woman to be messed with. An abrasive woman, she once left a man with two black eyes and a broken nose. She was a tough cookie in cargo pants. Sort of tall and very athletic, she had a boyfriend, Abel Lewis, with whom she'd been in a relationship with for four months.

     Her partner, as of three years ago, was one of the youngest detectives in the NYPD. She, Samantha Bradford, was a single mother of two. Liam, 4, and Hadley, 2, stayed with her sister, Grace, while she worked. A woman who never dated, for fear of bringing home a creeper, had had two kids with a man, who was also a cop, and who'd left her whilst pregnant with Hadley. The man had humiliated her in front of the whole of the NYPD, making her fearful of dating in general. Now, a twenty five year old woman, she had straight blonde hair with violet colored eyes, and typically a smirk plastered on her face. A rather small woman with a big attitude, she and Jen made a great team.

     Their lieutenant had given them the orders of photographing the scene and collecting and bagging any evidence from the scene.

     He came over to Coby first. "Hey, Cobe, cleared to take the body."

     Coby glanced over from his position. "Thanks, Lieutenant," Coby said, standing up to get the body in the NYPD van.

     "What'd you get?" Woods asked his two detectives.

     Sam, who was photographing, spoke first. "Well, the vic was tied to the bed. The markings on her arms make it look like she struggled."

     Woods nodded. "Melbrooke?"

     Jen looked up. "Well, I bagged anything with blood on it, just in case. I bagged the sheets, took a sample from the bed, and also from the carpet. Boss, the whole bed was covered in blood, so I got samples of that. When we get her down to autopsy, Cobes can take fingerprints. We can find out who Jane Doe is."

     Woods nodded in understanding. He walked away, while saying, "Great work, guys."

     He checked to see how Jack and Doug were getting along, as the Medical Examiner's van pulled out. He was about to go check them out, when a woman, straight and long blonde hair, and grey eyes, ran up pulling with her a teenage girl, shoulder length blonde hair with a blue streak in a ponytail, and green eyes.

     The woman called out to Woods, "What are you doing?! This is my house!"

     Woods glanced back at her. "This is your house?"

     The woman and child nodded vigorously.

     Woods continued, "Then, would you care to explain why there was a dead body in there?"

     The woman cried, "What?" She started to move forward. Woods put his hand out to stop her.

     "I'm sorry, ma'am. I cannot let you go in there. Your house is a crime scene."

     "Crime scene? Cool. Can I see the body?" the teenager asked. The older woman elbowed her, in a scolding manner.

     She said sharply, "Bri, knock it off. This is serious, not a game." She turned her attention towards Woods. "Sorry. A crime scene? Me and my daughter have been in Bermuda all week. We come back and our house is a crime scene? Who did it?"

     But, before Woods could answer, Doug and Jack ran up to their boss. Doug called, "Hey, boss, we--!" He noticed the woman and girl. "Who's your friend, boss?" At the look Woods gave him, he continued hurriedly, "Well, we asked every neighbor on the block. No one saw anything, but the neighbors nearest the house did say they heard a scream around seven thirty."

     Jack continued, "One neighbor had a different story. Mr. Perry Alice? He said at midnight, he heard a scream, and went down to the house. But, when he got there, the doer was gone, and he saw our vic. He said he called the fuzz at around eight, in his words."

     Woods looked at them, and said, "Good work, boys."

     Jack acknowledged this by nodding pointedly, and saying, "Any time, boss."

     Woods rolled his eyes, and said, "Let's go."

     They followed him out of the house, as he called over his other detectives. Woods walked over to the guard. He muttered to him, "Don't let those two," he indicated the woman and girl, "into the crime scene." The man nodded and moved to better secure the scene.

     Woods looked at his team. "Come on," he told them.

     They all filed into the cars they came in to go back to the NYPD building to get their findings to their forensic analyst, Kim Brooklyn. Then, maybe they could get some insight as to who the hell would murder a teenage girl.