“Didn’t anyone tell you not to bring work home?” she said wryly.
“Just give yourself a few years. Once you get your detective’s badge, you’ll see how the real world works.”
Winters chuckled. “Right.” Her face became concerned again. “If you need anything …”
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted.
With a final wave, Winters strode away from her desk. Sofia turned to her computer, checking her emails and trying to concentrate on the case file currently sitting on top of her inbox. But, try as she might, her mind kept drifting. She opened her top drawer, staring at the contents. Inside was a photo of a woman wearing a complete police uniform, her smile wide.
I miss you, Mom.
Normally, she had her mother’s portrait on her desk, but lately, she was afraid something would happen to it. A couple weeks ago, she found it lying face down on her desk. Despite the many times she would prop it back up, she would come to work with the frame disturbed. She knew what that gesture meant. That even her own mother would be ashamed to look at her. Which was ironic.
Always do what’s right. Even if the whole world is against you.
She would never forget her mother’s words, and she would be damned if she lost her integrity at this job.
With a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and went to work. Finally, it was the end of the day, and she could go home. She walked into the empty locker room so she could get changed before heading to the gym.
“Motherfucker!” She exclaimed when she opened her locker. Inside was a dead rat, lying on top of her running shoes. “Goddammit!”
Really, she should have been used to it by now. Months and months of disdainful looks, anger, and even the small “pranks” like leaving dead pigeons in her desk drawer. But she refused to back down, even ignoring pleas from her family. In her heart, she did the right thing. And she was still paying for it.
TGIFF.
Thank God It’s Fucking Friday.
Though Sofia didn’t sleep any better last night, she was at least looking forward to the weekend. Her dad and grandfather would be expecting her to come home, so she would at least be able to relax, eat something other than instant ramen or takeout, and maybe even visit Mom’s grave.
At around ten o’clock, she was heading out to get a cup of coffee when her phone rang. “Selinofoto,” she answered.
“Detective, this is dispatch,” the businesslike voice said on the other end. “We need you on a scene. Homicide.”
“Send me the details, and I’ll be right there.” Hanging up the phone without another word, she grabbed her keys and headed for her car. She checked her phone for the address and after making a quick mental note, drove to the scene. With midtown traffic, it took her a good twenty minutes to get there.
The address that dispatch gave her was right at the edge of their jurisdiction. It looked like a couple of cops from the neighboring district had been called in, because she didn’t recognize the uniformed officers guarding the yellow tape draped across the alley. She approached the officers and held up her badge.
“Detective,” one of them greeted as he lifted the tape for her.
“One of you come with me,” she said as she crossed under the tape. They hesitated, but then the younger officer followed her into the crime scene.
It was a standard alley between two buildings, wide enough for only a sidewalk and a one-way street to fit through. The other side had also been secured with yellow tape, and a black and white was parked to block the entrance. It was mostly empty, except for the lump on the ground right in the middle of the sidewalk. Dead Body. Or D.B. for short.
The smell was the first thing she noticed as she drew closer to the body. It shouldn’t have stunk, seeing as it was winter, but it wasn’t the usual smell of a rotting corpse. Piss and shit. Huh. And when she was standing next to the body, she realized the source of the stench. A colostomy bag lay next to the body, its contents oozing out.
She’d been around her share of dead bodies before, so it didn’t bother her too much. The young officer, however, looked a little pale. “First D.B?” she asked.
“Y-yes ma’am.”
Probably fresh out of the academy. She remembered what it was like. “What’s your name?”
“Chen, ma’am. Barry Chen.”
“Breathe through your mouth, Officer Chen. Can you tell me what happened?”
The officer opened his mouth to take in a deep breath. “A delivery guy found the body and then called 911. We got here about twenty minutes ago, confirmed that he was dead, and then secured the scene.”
“Did you find anything unusual? Anyone hanging around?”
“Had a couple of looky-loos, but we shooed them away.”
“Good.” She kneeled down to get a closer look at the body. “Jesus,” she muttered under her breath. The man’s face was bloody and beaten, the features unrecognizable. The front of his coat was open, and his shirt was covered in blood. There was a sizable dent on his skull where blood and bits of gray matter had oozed out.
“Looks like he was beaten to death,” Chen said. “We searched, but didn’t find any weapons nearby.”
The crime lab would be able to confirm how and when the guy died, but this couldn’t have been an accident. She put on a pair of gloves, then checked his pockets and took out a sealed plastic bag. “Huh.” Unzipping the bag, she took out a wallet, some keys, and a hundred-dollar bill. The wallet contained a driver’s license. “Thomas Dixon. From New York. Seventy-six years old. Huh.” She held out the license. “License expired almost twenty years ago.” The wallet too was worn and old, but the hundred-dollar bill was crisp and new. “Well, look at
