“Hey, Knight, take a look at this.”
I turned to my partner and slowly trudged through the muck and mire located 20 feet from the crime scene. “What do we have here?” My partner pointed his pencil at a deceased, young woman, stark naked and half buried. She looked to be at the very least 22 years of age, and she looked to have been dead for two days. “Judging by the ligature marks on the side of her head, she seemed to have died from blunt force trauma. The fucker bludgeoned her to death,” he concluded. However, the distinct, red marks surrounding her neck told me otherwise.
“She was strangled,” I told him while getting a closer look at the body. Something inside wanted to make sure that I was right, but I honestly didn’t need to do that. “Damn. What are you, Matlock all of a sudden?” I look over at my partner and shake my head. “No, I tend to be inquisitive. Look here,” I squat down and set my fingers upon the decomposing welts on her neck. “The prep used a rope or nylon cord to take her out. The scratches below her neck indicate defensive wounds. She didn’t go down without a fight,” I said before getting up.
“What a way to go,” he told me, clicking his tongue. “Wait a minute…” he leaned back down and gasped slightly at the body. “I know her!” He looked back at me, his eyes shimmering with quasi sadness. “What do you mean?” “What do you mean, ‘what do I mean?’ That’s Sara Lourdez, the adult film star,” he exclaimed. “Damn…who did this shit?” he was highly insulted that his favorite porn star was taken so suddenly, though I was quite surprised he even watched the stuff.
“You really watch that mess?” “Well, for research sake, of course.” Sure.
“Look, check to see if she had any priors—was she anyone’s enemy, did she piss anyone off; find out who had it in for her. Oh, and Wahlberg?” “Yeah?” “Please, for the sake of the investigation and for the love of God, don’t go into a Sara Lourdez binge, alright? Focus.”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Knight, I’m not some 13 year old who would get excited after seeing a tit for the first time. I know what I have to do,” he lied. I shake my head and walk away to let the coroners do their unfortunate dirty work. Who would do something so horrible? What did she do? I tried not to wrap my head around it TOO much for now, at least not until I get to the medical examiner and enough information on Sara.
This is the second murder of the same MO in a month: Call girls and porn stars seem to be this bastard’s forte. Why would they put them on display with no sexual assault? This leads me to believe the perp is female, but I’m slowly starting to doubt it. What could be a possibility, is the matter of who’s dying, his forte. They’re all women of the evening and adult stars. Maybe this person is trying to rid the world of all things disrespectful to pure morality, and body shaming. If this is the case, they’ve found a poor way of starting the ‘cause’.
Whatever the case may be, I must act fast before they strike again.
The moment I stepped into the MDPD Forensics lab, the M.E. stopped me dead in my tracks. “Not so fast,” she said, setting her hand on my chest. “What are you doing, Haynes?” “I should ask you the same question. Don’t you have a bottle of Jim Bean waiting for you at home?” “I stopped drinking a year ago. What are you getting at?” Haynes smirked while waving her finger at me. “Jordan, you’ve been working yourself ragged for like a thousand years. Don’t you ever rest?” “Crime doesn’t rest, so why should I?” Chuckling, she leads me back to the exit.
“You know your father must be really proud of you, working these cases and solving 88% of them. I mean, really proud. Don’t you think he rested after solving a case?” I shrugged and looked down, feeling a certain way when she brought up my father.
He was fearless. He never minded laying his life on the line to hunt down a hardened criminal; the worst of the worst. He was also admirable in his tasks inside and outside the force, especially when it came to family values. I loved him with every fiber of my being, and he was the only reason why I became a Level 2 Homicide Detective. His determination to succeed awakened the same attribute in me, and it never called out to the question of resting. I highly doubt he did; I know he didn’t. So, why should I?
“I’m fine,” I concluded. “You have to stop worrying about me, Allison.” “Nope,” she said while opening the door. “Go home, Jordan. The crow’s feet are creeping in!” I shove her in jest and step out. “Will yo—“ “Contact you the minute I get the CODIS results? Count on it.” “You and Donnie are the only people I can count on,” I tell her before leaving the lab.
I decided to take the long way home, and as I drove my mind went back to that poor young woman we found lifeless. Staggering. As of last month, we’ve had no lead in the case, but there has to be now that there’s a new victim on our hands. The first victim: Michelle Ann Vargas, had no priors; a clean record, just a lack of moral judgment. I can’t understand women and finding themselves in these predicaments; it’s tawdry, and I wish some of them would know their worth. Sure, they have to make a living, but still. My faith is showing again.
I stopped at a red light and turn to my left to find a young woman dressed for a night out. She looked to be about 5’5 and 20 years old. She tussled her hair about while popping her gum, her eyes burning a hole through me. She made her way over to my car, smiling impishly. “Hey,” her accent proved she was not from here. “Hello,” I acknowledged her with a smile of my own. She leaned into my car , looking around to see if I carried a badge or wads of cash—she found no badge or money, it didn’t assuage her from walking away.
“So…you lookin’ to get lucky tonight?” She asked, licking her lips and eyeing the front of my jeans. “No.” “Oh, come on…the first one’s on me. The second, well, we’ll come to a price as we go along.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” “You gay?” she blurted. “NO!” I exclaim and chuckle after. I eventually grabbed my wallet and show her my badge. “Shit!” she said in shock. Before she was able to run away from me, I called out to her. “Come back here.” I slipped into my wallet and took out two $100 bills. With a confused look on her face, she looked down at the bounty, then at me. “You’re…not arresting me?” “I should, but I won’t.” She smoother her dark hair behind her ear, still confused. “Why?”
“Because you don’t have to do this. Now, you take that, go home and better yourself. You’re worth more than that. Okay?” Before I could offer her a ride home, she thanked me and sped off into the darkness. . I smiled at my good deed ad pulled away after the light turned green a third time.
Her. She’s perfect. She may not be the one I want, but she’ll do for now.
A man with promising blue eyes stepped out from the shadows and made himself known to the young woman who was still in high spirits. “Hey, need a lift?”
She stopped dead in her tracks and saw him stand before her. “You bet I would. My feet are killing me!” she barked with a chortle. The man threw his arm over her slender shoulder, smiling as they walked to his car. “Thank you so much for the offer,” she said to him as they both disappeared back into the shadows.
“The pleasure’s all mine, my dear.”
Had Jordan gave the young girl a life back home, she would have been safe, sound, and alive. The woman’s screams fell upon sleeping ears. Soon, nothing but dead silence fell upon the warm, Miami streets—another girl lost.
