After getting over my last bout of frustration, I decided that it was time to introduce you to a few more characters (including one that made me sick from the start) and post a new chapter. As always, please comment and know that this is still a work in progress.
Six Years LaterWaking up from the same dream for the fifth night since she moved back to Chicago two weeks ago, Devyn shook it off and got out of bed. Before standing up, she looked at the picture of her and her parents in Paris shortly before they divorced almost ten years ago. Saying a short prayer, she got ready for her first day at the Chicago Police Department as a homicide detective.
By six thirty, she was on her way to work with no expectations whatsoever. She had almost forgotten how bad the traffic was since she moved to Seattle, but hadn’t missed it one bit. She finally parked her Ford Escape in front of the precinct at ten after seven. She walked in and asked the man at the front desk what floor the homicide division was located and was told that it was on the fourth floor.
When she finally reached her floor, she started to go into the Captains office, but when she heard the voices inside she stopped.
“I am not working with her, Trey!” a voice yelled. “There has got to be someone she can work with ‘cause I’m not!”
“Terry, you’re going to work with whomever I tell you to work with and it’s not like I’m telling you to work with some rookie. According to her records, she was trained here and sent to Seattle for four and half years ago before requesting to be transferred back here. So what’s your problem?” Trey asked the younger man.
“Trey, I don’t care about her record. You already know how I feel about working with women and then you pull some shit like this! Why?” Terry asked.
“Because maybe you’ll learn something, but even that seems damn near impossible,” he said. “If there is a problem, I will have your badge and gun taken away temporarily or even permanently. It all depends on how I feel that day. Are we clear?”
There was a knock on Trey’s door and when he said come in, a young black woman came in. “I was just told that I could find Trey Hemmington in here.”
“That would be me and you are?” Trey asked the woman as he stood up behind his desk.
“Devyn Williams, sir,” she said. The other man in the room stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Well, please sit down, Miss Williams,” he said, sitting down himself. “Oh, and that guy who just left is Terry Marks and will be your partner.”
“It doesn’t look like he is in favor of your decision.”
“He’s not, but I am not here to please him.” Changing the subject, he asked, “What did you think of Seattle? I mean it’s probably nothing like Chicago.”
“It was calm and took me a few months to get used to since I was used to the busy lifestyle here,” she told him.
“Is that why you wanted to be transferred here?”
“Yes and no. I wanted to come back to my hometown. You see, I was born and raised right here in Chicago before I went to the police academy.”
“For personal reasons?”
“I guess you could say that.”
Nodding his head, Trey handed her a file folder and said, “Here is the case that you will be working on.”
Devyn recognized the name on the folder right away because it had been all over the news for the past ten months. “Is this the same William Carson who killed, what, eight, nine people within the past ten months?”
“Yeah, but it’s no longer nine. Last night, Thelma Wheats, who just divorced her husband after 23 years and lived by herself, was murdered at her home. Her daughter, according to the reports, was visiting her mother and is the one who called 911 this morning. So far, that’s all we know until you and Terry go to the scene in a few minutes.” Trey handed her the address to Ms. Wheats home and after showing her around, showed her to her desk.
Before going back to his office, Trey handed her a card and said, “If there are any problems with Terry, call me.”
“Okay.” She put away some of her stuff and opened up the folder to see what she was dealing with before checking out the crime scene. The file consisted of crime scene photos and the information about information on each victim with a half page of what they knew about Carson. She thought that because no one had seen him; he left no witnesses. She looked up to see Terry glaring at her from across the room.
What is his problem? Devyn wondered as she looked at the pictures of the other victims. Carson carefully stapled each of his victims mouths closed and tied their feet and wrists together. After that was done, Carson must have sliced them open and…and then what? She didn’t know what killed each of them besides the fact that they all bled to death. What had Carson done that the paramedics couldn’t control until the victims reached the hospital where the doctors could treat their wounds?
Devyn pulled out a notebook out of the top drawer of her desk and wrote down that Carson might have some knowledge in medicine, is a perfectionist, and has nothing to lose, but his freedom. She wondered why each of the murders was exactly a month apart. Were they randomly picked or did the victims know Carson before the night they were murdered?
“Hey, you! Hemmington wants us to go to the Wheats woman’s house,” a voice said. She looked up to see Terry glaring down at her.
She rolled her eyes at him and said, “Yeah, I know. He told me while I was in his office and--”
Before she could finish her sentence, he abruptly turned and walked away.
“Asshole!” she whispered under her breath and looked at her watch. She grabbed her jacket and headed to the newest crime scene.