The spring sun made the office look like a half-forgotten basement, full of unwanted things and dust-gathering trinkets. Its golden days had long passed into history and what remained was a matter of many disputes.
"We need this," Kallin growled as he dragged the old whiteboard across the room, pulling with it an entire collection of spiderwebs from the corner.
It refused to move smoothly making a terrible screeching sound as it scraped the floor.
"You are killing me," Ronns returned pulling on his sock with a pencil. "It's not like we have anything to write on that old thing anyway. When was the last time we had a decent case?
"Before Kalin could shake off the dirt from his jacket, Myra slid past him like a ghost. She dropped into her seat tightly grappling the armrests with her nails. She sat there a whole minute before responding to anything or anyone.
"Where are you right now?" said Ronns waving his hand over her face.
Their office never allowed for much privacy and like a small unhappy family the borderline unit pledged their lives together, even if it meant suffering each other in the process.
"What?" Myra yelled electrocuting the air. "I didn't forget about it Ronns. I'll give you the money later." She pushed her coat off her back and let it hang from the chair as she began to shuffle through the drawers of her desk.
"Can't a college be concerned?" Ronns mumbled and returned to watching funny cat videos on his phone.
"Have you seen my badge? I swear it was somewhere…" She kicked the drawers back in place one after the other. "Why can't I find a damn thing in this place?"
"Are you going to yell at me again?" Ronns poked back, pointing his pencil at her.
"No, Ronns, I'm sorry for being mean to you. Could you please tell me where it is?"
"You promise?"
"Gods. Yes!" she exclaimed, ready to yank the phone out of his hands.
Ronns gently distanced himself from the table, got up, circled to the other side and got behind Kalin's empty chair.
Myra squinted her eyes at him, already expecting a troubling end.
"I have no idea," Ronns returned with a devilish smile.
Unable to control her temper, Myra grabbed the first thing within her reach and lounged at him from afar. With tightly clenched teeth she was ready to bestow a gift of pain.
"Tamon!" A voice echoed from across the hall, cutting off her attack. "My office."
"Coming sir." Myra returned sourly. For a few more seconds she stood like a statue, gleaming at the enemy, but once she realized there was no way of avoiding the captain that day she dropped the keyboard and dragged herself to his office.
***
"I know I'm late," she said closing the door. "I still have a couple of reports to finish so there's not much to report sir."
"I heard you're to be cleared for active duty soon. How're you feeling?"
"Yes sir. Good sir. As of next week, I'll be back in the field." She smiled as she held her hands behind her back as she always did when the nervous ticking came around. "It may have to be sooner."
"Sir?"
"You haven't heard anything yet, have you?" the chief returned leaving his chair. He stopped by the window and yanked on his tie until it was fully off his neck. He held it in his hand like it was a key piece of evidence or a weapon capable of great destruction.
"Like what? Did you finally decide to give me my own office?" Myra said lighly.
She couldn't help but get distracted by a box of uneaten beef chops on the captain's desk. They were so fresh she could still see the steam coming off the surface.
"Listen Myra. There's a fair chance the next few days will turn into a real… kerfuffle to put it gently." He pulled down the blinds before peeking through the window one last time. The office suddenly lost all warmth and became a cold dark box. "Remember, there is only so much I can do, so be smart about this."
"You're going to have to be more precise, captain. What has happened?" Myra's eyes widened and her forehead began to pulsate as the blood gathered in her face. She could not tell if such excitement was a consequence of the utter boredom she experienced sitting at a desk every day.
"There's been a murder." The captain's voice sank and he made sure his eyes were not on hers.
"And?"
"Do you remember your first case?"
"First case? Do you mean way back in Glamstone Division? That would be the Arbiger Park murder. Why?"
"It happened again it seems." He paused and then slowly lowered himself back into the chair. "They found the body just this morning."
"Wait. Are you saying the killer is back?" Myra shifted closer to the table, just enough to see the outline of the old case file.
"The victim was found at the same location, and the manner of death matches the first one as well. The press has been told not to print anything yet but that won't hold them for long."
"Why are you telling me this then? This is not exactly my turf any more. Not even our jurisdiction."
"There's just one more thing," the captain added with a grim look on his face."What?"
"Same victim," he said slowly as if every letter was as heavy as a mountain.
"Oh?" Myra's voice thinned out, and her thoughts spiralled to a different time. She never imagined she'd have to set foot in Arbiger Park again, much less that it would return as a twisted thing to haunt her.
"What exactly does that mean?"
"The bad news is the case has been re-opened, regardless of the victim's identity. The other bad news is that there is also a good chance it is to be re-classified."
"To what?" she shrieked as the very idea made he skin crawl.
"M-1."
She paused. It was not what she'd expected to happen. Her stomach cramped until a liberating thought came to mind.
"But then it is not our concern, right? If the victim is the same then the case is… it's… theirs."
"Thought you'd be more interested in this. Anyway, it would have been their concern, had the laws not changed. It was our investigation in the first place so they want us to carry it on again. It's just that," he stopped to scratch his nose, "the bureau decided to send a specialist over. To oversee."
"Which bureau? What kind of specialist?"
"You know what kind."