She froze as she felt the cold steel of the dagger tear through the skin, piercing the muscle of her abdomen. She knew she was going to die. The question is how long it would take and why he chose her. She collapsed onto the debris that littered the ground. It smelled of trash and rot. She thought about her mom. She thought of how much she wanted to do with her life, about what would happen when she closed her eyes for the last time. She asked God for forgiveness for all she had done and failed to do. She felt her eyes were wide open. She didn't know if it was from terror or simply because she didn't want to close them and never open them again. Someone was staring back at her. He watched with pleasure and excitement. His smile was too broad. Too toothy. Pure evil. Suddenly, there was no more pain. She felt content now. She could see her mother in the distance, waiting for her. She was holding out her hand. She took it and was led away as she took her last breath.
*************************************************************
Allie gently tapped her fingers against her forehead. It was as if she was knocking on the brain to open her mind.
Her partner, Patrick Bruss, looked at her across the double desk they shared in the detective bureau and raised an eyebrow.
"What?" he asked.
She began to massage her temples.
"She had to have known her attacker. It was too close, too personal. Knives are personal. It's one of the most intimate ways to kill besides strangulation. He wanted to look into her eyes, see the life drain slowly out of her, his face to be the last thing she would ever see. He's definitely making a statement. Look at me; pay attention to me.
"Killing someone is always personal, Kingston," he said.
She was getting frustrated. She threw her pen down aggressively.
"I need to get some air," she said as she stood up.
She grabbed her coat off the back of her chair.
"And you're going outside? The air is better in the bathrooms."
She struggled to get her arm in the sleeve.
"Son of a ..." her sentence trailed off into silence.
She refrained from cursing. She and Bruss had a bet that she couldn't stop swearing for one week. Every word he caught her saying would cost her five dollars. On an average week, she could fund a round-trip vacation to the Bahamas. She already owed him a hundred and fifteen dollars, and
they were still in the early stages of the challenge.
When she stepped outside, the gloom of the day and the remnants of the night were all around her.
"Why do I stay in Cleveland?" she said.
She looked around the streets of downtown. She was proud to live in Cleveland and was melancholy simultaneously. It had terrific restaurants in the theater district, and Playhouse Square is the second largest compared only to Broadway. There was the Rock N' Roll Hall of Fame, The Cleveland Museum of Art, The Botanical Gardens, and The Christmas Story house, to name a few.
Unfortunately, working as a detective in Cleveland showed her the city's underbelly. Like all cities, it had its secrets and shadowed corners.
She had taken in enough of the local sights. She opened the sizeable gothic cathedral doors. They were carved from thick, heavy White Oak. They were from a bygone age of architecture. It was one of many historic buildings in the downtown area. At one point, it would have been grand and majestic. She looked around the skyline. Jetting into the air was a silver building. It looked out of place among all the old buildings. The large flag poles pierced the sky. The American and State of Ohio flag waved aggressively. There was a strong wind blowing off the lake. It was the newly renovated FBI building. It was two blocks away and a beacon of animosity between the feds and the locals from CPD 6th.
They parked their cars in a covered garage with 24-hour security. Sixers, that's what the other precincts called them, parked in the lot down the street with 24-hour access, not security. Overall, the 6th was her home. It's where she felt safe because there she was never alone. She tended to ascend into her mind and start digging up bones when she was alone. She had no husband or boyfriend, roommate, and few friends. She didn't even have a cat.
Bruss watched her make her way back to her desk. Her body was slim and toned. She could easily take down a full-grown man in 2.2 seconds. She was a hurricane. She could destroy her surroundings, clearing a path to where she needed to go, but like the eye of a storm, she could be eerily calm, silent, and still. She always felt it was her duty to save everyone. She had a soft, natural curl in her hair. The color looked like fields of wheat in mid-summer. Behind her smile and her empathy, she was never OK. She never slept well, and her coping skills were good enough to get by. She had to go through a lot of therapy to get there. She was quick-witted, crass, a professional smart-ass with a dark humor. She was kind when she needed to be. Life had made her hard. Lost love and heartbreak made her always keep her guard up. She displayed very few emotions daily.
His partner, walking back to her desk, differs from the person who entered the bureau two years ago. She had gone through a metamorphosis through the years. She became a completely different person after she and Alex were forced apart. She was still caring, still kind. She would still do anything she could to help someone. She had just reverted back to someone who didn't trust, feel, or want to believe in love.
"Did you breathe in the sweet smell of exhaust-filled air?"
"Anything is better than the aroma of a cologne that hit its peak popularity in the late 90s. You need to buy it a cake, give it a party, and retire it already," she joked.
"Hey, hey; easy now. My girlfriend happens to like the aroma," he spoke in a haughty tone.
"That's because she wasn't born yet when it was popular. She missed the overwhelming scent of dozens of teenage boys who showered in it."
"You need to get laid," he shot back.
"Oh really, is that an offer?"
"Dear God, no. I've already imagined what it would be like to be with you ages ago. I have a feeling it would end up with me pulling several muscles, putting bandages on scratch marks, and calling in sick the next day," he was trying to be serious, but he failed.
She let out a laugh, "You're not wrong."
"I'll continue to have nice, safe, injury-free sex with my girlfriend," he said.
"Is girlfriend the name of your right hand?" she quipped.
Bruss's girlfriend, who is not his right hand, is several years younger than him. Her name is Shelly Monroe. She is a beautiful, tall girl with fair skin, brown eyes, and ginger hair.
Bruss has been Allie's partner for two years. He is three years older than her and highly educated. He received a degree in psychology from Ohio State University. His specialty is reading body language; he reads body language the way bored homemakers read romance novels. He is known as the human lie detector. He is 5 '8', fit, with brown hair and brown eyes. Even though she teased him about his choice of cologne, she loved how it smelled.
"Hey. Sadler in dispatch is dating McCoy in patrol," he said, his voice hushed.
"And exactly how do you know that? What are you? A teenage girl at the lunch table?"
"I'll make a bet. If I am right, you buy lunch. If I am wrong, I will clear out your swear jar."
"As much as I would love to clear my tab, I am not making a bet with you. I'm blonde, not dumb. I am, however, extremely curious how you came to this conclusion."
"Are you sure? You owe me a hundred and fifteen bucks. It's only the beginning of the week." he said.
"All right. It's your wallet. I observed them this morning in the hallway having a conversation."
"Observing them?" she said sarcastically.
"It sounds less creepy than I was watching them."
"All right, please continue."
She enjoyed it when he did this, but she would never be able to do what he did. We all have our talents, and this one belonged to him. Every cop knew it. They were afraid to move when they were around him.
"I observed Sadler move close to him. She was invading his personal space, and he didn't mind being invaded. When you let someone in like that, you are sexually attracted to them. No question. We don't want to be close to someone we find undesirable. He said something that made her laugh, and she touched his arm. McCoy is not funny. I've ridden with him on shifts before. He couldn't take his eyes off her. He was constantly looking her up and down, lingering on certain parts. He was leaning up against the water cooler, trying to act casually. Then he slightly angled his pelvis towards her," he said.
"Whoa! Hold up!" She raised her hand to stop him from speaking. "He angled his pelvis towards her. That's a signal, an actual thing?"
"Hell yeah, it's an actual thing. Can I please continue?" Bruss asked.
"Oh, by all means. This is some interesting shit. Still not taking your bet."
"She drew his attention to her mouth by biting her bottom lip slightly. It shows sexual interest."
"No shit."
"Shit. Both had an open stance during the entire conversation, which basically said, "Come into my arms and screw me."
He leaned back in his chair, looking so immensely proud of himself.
"I'll let you know when they have consummated the relationship," he joked.
"All right, that is the creepy behavior you were trying to avoid; however, DAMN. You are good." Allie leaned back in her seat.
"I'm worth my weight in gold around here," he looked smug.
"Eh, copper, maybe," she said, smiling, returning to her paperwork.
"I'll take it. People steal copper for its value," he said.
She really should have taken the bet. All she would have been out is the cost of lunch. That entire story was pure fiction. It was part of his masterclass in reading body language. Now, if only there were a body she found worthy of reading because she did, in fact, need to get laid.
"Seriously, when was the last time you got laid?" he asked.
"Wow, you're going to go there?"
"Yeah, like you've ever been shy talking about sex. Remember a couple of months ago, you told me about whatever details you could remember about that guy you can't remember? However, you do tend to overshare at times."
"Then I will no longer continue to share. "I don't want you to envy me," she said. "And I do remember who he was."
"You really remember? Wow, they must be someone special."
She had a slight smile barely visible, but it was there.
"NO! You didn't?"
"OK, then I didn't."
"I thought that was over!"
"It is. It's just it's so good with him. But I digress." Allie said.
"You better not let it get out that you are getting jiggy with a smoke eater."
"I don't date cops. I don't date at all, but if I did, I wouldn't date a cop. And I know him. He's a good guy. He's never done anything to make me doubt that," she said. "But if me, what did you say, getting jiggy with a smoke eater bothers you, I will keep all further stories and experiences to myself."
"No, please share. A couple of times, it has taught me new positions I can do with Shelly."
"OK, that right there was oversharing," she laughed.
"I will live vicariously through you, not envy you."
"I wouldn't bother. Chances are you've had sex about thirty times since I got lucky last time."
"First of all, you don't "get lucky." You can walk into a gay bar and have a dozen guys want to fuck you."
"Ah, thank you?" she said.
"I am saying you can turn a gay man straight! I genuinely feel bad for you. Sex is like air; it's unimportant until you're not getting any."
"By your rationale, I would need to be on a ventilator by now," she said. "Maybe I'll go out tonight and see what I can find. I am NOT going to Jake's. The last thing I need is cop gossip."
"No, you just don't want to see Alex because you know he will be there tonight."
"No. I want a change of scenery," she said. "And I know he will be there, but I am no longer trying to cross that bridge. The trolls are out for him."
"Maybe I should go with you and be your wingman, " he suggested.
She threw her head back and laughed.
"Like Shelly is going to let you go out without her."
"Shelly wants you to get laid as much as I do. She'll let me out for a worthy cause."
"Thank you both so much for your deep concern about my vagina," she said. "Then fine, I'm going to Ava's. Will that be a problem?"
Bruss and Ava used to date back in the day. It ended. Why it ended, he would never say. The attraction was still there, but they never resolved their irreconcilable differences."
His voice rose a few octaves.
"No. No, not at all. I can go to Ava's. And if I remember correctly, she won't be there tonight anyway."
"Alright. If you're sure, then meet me there at 7:30. I've got to go home to change."
"I will be there. You go change, even though you look fine," Bruss said while taking a drink of water.
"Yeah, but I should at least put some panties on," she said matter-of-factly.
Bruss spit the water out. It sprayed the entire surface of his desk. Allie picked up her coat, slapped her ass cheek, and walked out.
************************************************************
A large, good-looking man sat at his desk inside the FBI building just down the road from the sixth district. His phone rang.
"S.A. Carron."
"Hey, Dean. How's it going?"
"I'm working, which is exactly what you should be doing, David. Do you need something?"
"A wingman," David said.
"For what?"
"We're going out tonight. You have to come with us."
"I really don't feel like going out."
"Come on. You haven't been out in months. Do you want to meet people? You have lived here for months. You need to find yourself a little female companionship."
"I have way too much work to do," Dean said.
"You can take one night, just a few hours, and come have a beer or two with us. Plus, we always have a better chance with the ladies when you're around."
"I don't know. Where were you thinking of going?"
"We are going to Ava's like we always do."
"I don't know. Last time I went there, I didn't meet anyone," Dean said.
"I know, but we did."
"I might. Let me see if I can clear some of these cases off my desk."
"Well, we need to know. Because if so, we hoped you could give us a ride."
"You're using me for my car, aren't you?" Dean asked.
"No, we are using you because you attract women like bees to honey," David said.
"Let me think about it. I will let you guys know."
"Don't leave us hanging, man. I have a feeling that tonight will be your lucky night."
"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that before."
"We were thinking 8:30."
"I'll let you know by 6:00 if I am coming," Dean said.
"You're coming."
"Goodbye, David."
"See you at 8:30"
"Goodbye, David!" he said as he hung up the phone.
He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Ava's? My lucky night. Sure, I'll believe it when it happens."