Women And the Demons Who Love Them

Hiraeth-3

Machine Gun Kelly ft. Bun B & Dubo- What I do 

    After the worst first day ever, Carter watched her new self-destructive partner walk out of the building like his ass was on fire. She began to put her things away to call it a night when the chief called her into his office. The last thing she wants is to talk to anyone. A cold shower, a glass of wine, and her latest obsession book in hand is all she wants right now. To get lost in another world. A better one.

    "I know you're headed out. I just wanted to thank you for today,"

    "Don't, we've all been there," she shrugged without looking up at him.

    "Yeah, you more than others. So accept my gratitude," he placed a gun and a badge in front of her. "These are for him. Give them to him when he shows up tomorrow,"

    "He's not coming in tomorrow," she stated, sitting back looking at the badge. She had worked really hard getting hers. 

    "You don't know that," but she does. 

    Carter knows the look her new partner gave her. It's the same look she had given herself in the mirror many times throughout the years. The same torment behind the belief of a justified excuse. There's always an excuse. That's what all of this is. A bunch of filthy excuses.

    "Chief, trust me when I say that man isn't going to come in tomorrow. He might not come in for a few days. What happened to him?" she asked. He sat back almost as if he were seeing the woman in front of him for the first time. Is this a spark of life he's seeing in her? Can this girl be empathetic?

    "His partner was killed a few months ago. Drug bust. He spiraled. His wife left him took everything with her. Can't see his kids until a judge says otherwise. He has nothing, Carter,"

    "Why would you put this on me, Anthony?" she asked angrily smacking her hand on the desk. Maybe the thought crossed his mind a little too soon.

    "Because, you've never had any real responsibility, kid. You are a spoiled child and it's my fault. So, I'm fixing what I did by giving you what I took on when I met you,"

    "I was never like that," she argued.

    "No, kid. You were never like that," he agreed as she took the gun and the badge. She opened the door to leave. "You were so much worse,"

    She paused for a second and looked back at her mentor. She didn't say a word to him as she walked out and got in her car tossing Wright's things on the passenger seat. She looked over at the seat remembering the distant look he had in his eyes as he ate. The coldness in the way he joked and laughed. Had she really been that bad before? Is she still?

    The next two days passed with no sign of her new partner. The chief would walk out and look at her wondering how the hell she knew he would be a no-show. He called the guy and was close to calling the feds to let them know he hadn't shown up. A worry for his new responsibility is starting to grow and gain weight on his shoulders.

    "Don't call," Carter said when she walked in the third morning to see his empty desk. The chief looked up at her wondering how she would know he was itching to make the call.

    "I have no choice. He could be dead for all we know," she looked down at his desk knowing that it was time he's brought back in. 

    "That man was dead before they brought him here. I'll get him here, Chief," 

    He grabbed her wrist to which she responded with pulling away aggressively. She might respect the hell out of this man but he wouldn't lay a hand on her. He put his hands up in surrender and took a step away from her.

    "How do you have all the answers all of a sudden?" he asked.

    "You've been pretending to save me for so long that you've forgotten what you're real objective is. You don't tell someone to do something without observing who they are. Watch, listen, evaluate. You told me that once. Is that how it is with you? Do as I say not as I do?" she asked him. He stepped back letting her walk away.

    Carter had never really gotten mad at him. He feels like maybe he insulted her in some way. He had known this girl since she was nine. He had met her the night her parents were killed. He was the leading detective on the case. That same night she was put into the system. She never said a word to him just stared ahead. He couldn't imagine what she had seen in that house that night. The scene had shaken him to his core. She has experienced the brutality of it first hand.

    He was contacted several times throughout her youth. The first time was because she had stopped speaking, stopped eating, hardly slept. The second was because once she started doing all those things. Her fist did most of the talking most of the time. The third was when she ran away. The Chief had wanted to adopt her but his fiance at the time was against it. Even if he had left her they wouldn't give a little girl up to a male even if he was an officer of the law.

    Not once had she spoken to him the way she had just now. She had clawed and resisted, the years had made her resilient to ugly that surrounds her. He hadn't caught when the scared little girl started to grow up. Today, he got the first glimpse at the woman he had watched grow. A sense of pride came over him and a hint of wonder. Is this what it feels like to see his little girl rebel for the first time for a boy?

    "Chief, we have a one eight seven. It's brutal," he looked behind him to see Torres walking up behind him with a report file in her hand. She handed the file over to him. "Sir, Sanders walked off the scene. He doesn't want the case,"

    He opened the file coming face to face with something he thought he'd be used to by now. He was told that it got easier but it never really did. People are monsters, he thought, looking over the snapshots. This isn't the first time Sanders had walked away from a case. It's why Carter is always the leading detective in big cases like this. No matter how dark things get she always gets the job done. 

    "Madison went to pick up her partner. She'll be there," he sighed handing Torres the file. She nodded. "Call Sanders into my office. It's time he and I had a little talk,"

    "Yes, sir," she complied and walked away.

    Chesterfield is busy. Carter had loved this side of St. Louis since she was a little girl. She had moved out here as soon as she was out on her own. The only reason she moved away was because her appetites changed. The noise became too much. The lights too bright. The people too much. She parked in front of the building where her partner is probably passed out asleep from his two-night bender.

    She's been there. God, she's been there so many times and wished she had someone to pull her out of her drunken stupor. Someone to tell her she would be fine. The hallucinations the bottle had brought her didn't help. They just dragged on the pain she refused to let go of. The memories that will forever haunt her. Memories she insists to pile on.

    "Can I help you?" the receptionist asked. She's a small older woman. Her hair is braided into a perfect crown on the top of her head. What a talent to have. Carter barely knows how to french braid her own hair and it looks decent on a good day.

    "I'm looking for Detective Kaleb Wright. This is the address that was listed,"

    "I wasn't aware he was a detective," she said looking Carter over. "He doesn't look the part,"

    "He was undercover. Needed some downtime. It was a rough go. He's my partner. I just want to help him get back up," she placed her badge on the counter.

    "You didn't have to show me that. I know who you are," the woman smiled at her, taking a card from inside a drawer. Carter put her badge away inside her coat.

    "You know who I am?" Carter asked curiously. The small woman motioned her to follow. 

    "Yeah, you're all over the paper. You're that detective. If anyone needs downtime it's you," 

    The little lady led her to the elevator and walked her over to a door. She handed her the card and began to walk away. Carter stood in front of the door, instead of swiping the door she decided to knock first. The taps are loud enough, she told herself as she stepped back waiting to see if he would open willingly. She tapped again and waited before she started making up her mind to just use the damn key card. Before she made up her mind, he opened the door. 

    "What?" he asked peeking his head between the slightly open door and the frame. Just looking at his face she knows he's a mess. She pushed the door open and walked inside. "What the f**k, Madison?" 

    "Get your s**t together. Shower and shave," she demanded, kicking the empty cans on the floor around before she sat at the small dining table in the room. "Now, Wright. I don't have time for your s**t," 

    Kaleb stood there in his boxers looking at her with distaste. He wanted to tell her to f**k off but decided against it. There's just something about this woman. Something that might be wrong just like the wrong inside of him. He grabbed his duffle bag and walked into the bathroom. He noticed she wasn't watching him as he shaved and brushed his teeth. In fact, she was leaning back against the wall with her eyes closed like she was enjoying the silence.

    This woman is not exactly unattractive. In fact, she's beautiful. It's the way she carries herself that's what makes her unapproachable. A walking cliche. The angry homicide detective with daddy issues. Why would the director think that this woman could help him back on his feet? Why would her chief put her in this position knowing she doesn't play well with others? But most importantly, why the f**k is she here? 

    The sound of classical music made him look back at her. She pulled her phone out from her coat and then answered the phone while he put his boots on. She gave whoever was on the line three words before she hung up and looked over at him. 

    "Are you ready? It's time to get to work," 

    "Why are you on babysitting duty?" he asked tying his laces.

    "Is that what you need? A babysitter?" she asked. "Pick up your things. You're coming with me," 

    "Where are we going?" 

    "A girl was killed," was all she had to say for him to jump up and start stuffing s**t into his bag. 

    "I'm supposed to be staying here," 

    "The Chief will give your daddy your new address," she stood up tossing him a pair of dark shades. He looked down at them wondering why he needed these. "You look like s**t, Wright. I don't want people to see that s**t as we walk down. I have a reputation. I have eye drops in the car. We'll get you something to eat once we're done at the crime scene," 

    He put the shades on. As soon as the door was completely open he flinched from the brightness. California doesn't get snow, he thought as he followed behind her. This place is cold a dry cold caressing against his sunkissed skin. She checked him out of the hotel at the front desk and handed the woman some extra money for the mess. The woman looked him over before she thanked her. 

    Kaleb can't think of the last time he felt this sick. There are so many things happening that haven't happened in a long time. Carter handed him a small bottle of eye drops, a water bottle and a pack of Picot salt. He took them gratefully. 

    Even after brushing his teeth and the mouthwash his throat and his mouth feel completely dry. He chugged down most of the water before he poured the salt pack and watched it start to bubble. The bubbling remedy settled the gagging feeling in the pit of his belly almost instantly. The eye drops took the redness in his eyes away but he still kept the shades for sensitivity purposes. 

    "There's BLK water in the seat behind me. It's cold," 

    "Blackwater?" he asked reaching for it. He looked down at the clear bottle with black liquid in it. "What the f**k?" 

    "It has vitamins and s**t in it. It's good for you. It tastes like water. Drink it slowly or you'll feel sick again," he opened the bottle not really wanting to put this s**t in his mouth but took a sip anyway because of the thirst. She's right. It doesn't taste too bad and the fact that it's cold makes it better.

    "Why are you okay with this? I would have been chewed out up, down, and sideways with anyone else," 

    "I'm not going to chew you out unless you need it, Wright," she scoffed, taking hold of the shifter as she came to a red light.

    "You don't think that what I did deserves that?" 

    "I've done it. It happens. What matters is that you're sitting in the car right now ready to take responsibility for your s**t but if you want me to chew you out then I can. It's up to you," she shrugged.

    "What are we looking at?" he asked changing the subject. 

    "One eight seven. Female, early twenties maybe late teens. I wasn't supposed to be out here for a couple more weeks," 

    "Why are they calling you in then?" he asked. 

    "Because the person they called in didn't want to take the case. He walked off the scene," 

Kaleb looked over at her. "What does that mean?" 

    "It means Sanders knows this is going to be one of those cases. The kind that makes you call your ex-wife and kids to tell them you miss them," 

He sat back looking out the window. 

    "Is that what you do?" 

    "I don't have an ex-wife. Women don't cut it for me. Not even the butch-y ones," 

He smirked knowing that was a joke. "Ex-husband?" 

    "Never been married," 

    "Who do you call then?" he asked looking over at her. "Your mom?" 

    "I don't have anyone to call, Wright. I'm not a man," She lied with a smile directed at him teasingly before pulling behind a Coroner's truck. 

    There's an entire team waiting for her so they can start cleaning up on her command. The woman Carter had pointed out his first day walked up to her with a file in her hand. Torres looked Kaleb over before looking up at Carter again. 

    "You sure he's ready? This is bad," Torres asked softly so only the two of them could hear. 

    "We'll see. What happened to Sanders?" Carter asked. She opened the file only to let it close again. 

    Carter shut her eyes briefly unable to comprehend what she just saw. This f*****g world is rotting, she silently cried in her head. She took a deep breath and opened it again before she started to read through it. Kaleb watched her bite back the emotions as she read through the report. 

    "He opened the file and just handed it back. No one has gone in the house except for our forensic team. Chief forbade the other officers to walk in there until you're done," Carter turned back to glance at Kaleb. 

    "I'm going inside to take a look around," she informed her new partner as she handed him the file. "If you need a minute or if you want to stay out here. I'll understand," 

    Kaleb took the file from her and watched Carter walk inside alone. He looked down at the file in his hands and opened it. His blood ran cold. There is so much blood, so many wounds, there is no face to the body of what used to be a girl in this picture. It's hard to believe this was a person. 

    The first thing that came to mind is his twelve-year-old daughter. He shut the file shaking the images out of his head. He handed the file back to Torres and began to make his way towards the house. A man stepped in front of him denying him access inside. 

    "Can't go in there," the officer warned. 

    "It's fine, Ralph. He's with me," the voice came from inside. The man stepped away from Kaleb and motioned him inside. Kaleb looked around as soon as he walked in. 

    The first thing that caught his attention is a bloodied scratch that leads from the entrance back inside the house. The girl must have tried to make a run for it. The scratch marks end about four and a half feet away from the door. Some of her nails had ripped off her fingertips and are embedded in the hardwood floor. 

    Whoever did this to this poor girl must have lifted her off the floor. Bloodied handprints stained the walls all the way down the hallway and into the living room where the body is lying in the middle of a bloodstained carpet. 

    The place is a mess. This poor girl had fought for her life with everything she had to give until she couldn't anymore. Chills lifted the skin all over his body making him cringe internally. He walked over to Carter to see her looking down at the faceless body. 

    "There are a few things here that could be the murder weapon," the man inside the taped area informed her. He handed Carter a pair of gloves and then another pair to Kaleb. 

    "Thanks, Clementine. Give us a minute," Carter said putting the gloves on. He nodded telling the others to walk away. "Thank you," 

    The way the body is positioned kind of looks like someone sat on her while they did this to her head, but Carter didn't like that assumption. Someone hitting her from above would have to be small and the footprints along the carpet, as well as the strength required to cause this kind of trauma, would have to have come from someone bigger. 

    "Can you do me a favor?" she asked Kaleb. He looked up at her. 

    "What?" 

    "Stand over the body. Legs spread. Keep your eyes on the ceiling arms up," 

    He took a deep breath and agreed to the unusual request and did as she asked. The ceiling has blood splattered on it as if whatever was used to bash the girl's face brought the blood up staining everything in its path. 

    "Close your eyes. I need you to bend down for me. Put your hands together stretched out in front of you," He did as he was told. "Look at me," 

    "What are you doing?" he asked looking up at her. She stood in front of him in the same position he was standing in. 

"This wasn't done by one person," She took his hand and helped him move away from the body. "Look at her arms. They're bruised. See how her body is positioned. They rolled her over after she was already dead. Someone stood on her hands so she wouldn't move, while the person who did this to her face pulled her by her hair. Her body was arched up so she was looking upward. There's no blood on this wall here because it hit the person standing on her arms," 

    Kaleb squatted down to look at the body a little closer. She's right. The way her body is bent, arched back. If whoever did this had sat on her she wouldn't have arched her body upward at least not like this. 

    Carter looked around to see this wasn't a break-in. The victim knew whoever did this to her. She trusted them enough to invite them inside. There are littered bottles of Corona Extra all around. Scattered as if someone had pushed them out of the way. 

    "Madison," she looked over at Kaleb to see him pointing under the couch. 

    She walked over to him. He lifted the couch so she could get whatever he had spotted. A tray. A small tray. She picked up to see some blood and white powder smeared all over it. A sandwich bag still filled. A small pack of zig-zags. She picked them up and set them down on the couch for forensics to find when they came back in. 

    "She knew whoever did this to her," Kaleb said. "It could have been a crowbar," 

    "Tire iron," she corrected. "A small one. Something they found laying around. A crowbar would have left squared indents. With a crowbar, the blood wouldn't have gotten to the ceiling. The blood was scooped up with the end of it," 

    Carter looked around. There has to be something she's missing. How did this girl get into this house? There aren't any pictures of a girl that fits her description on the walls. The two boys on the frames aren't old enough to have done this. The man doesn't look strong enough to pull a girl the way she was pulled back into the living room. 

    "Detective?" she looked up to see the chief standing in the hallway entrance with his hands in his coat pocket. "Find anything?" 

    "Weed, cocaine. Am I cleared to look around? Upstairs I mean? Other rooms?" 

    "It's your crime scene, Madison," he said motioning her to go. "I think it'll be better if you let the forensics take care of it. Tell them what to do," 

    As she rounded the corner she motioned the forensics guy to get back in here. Carter doesn't like relying on others to do what she can do herself. However, the chief likes things done by the book and this new guy they've brought in is good at his job. She's known him since she was a kid. Working with him is easy.

    "If the weapon is still here, it's a tire iron. A small one. Not a-cross. I want you to count the beer bottles for me. See if you can get anything off of them but I doubt you will. I want to see any jewelry the girl might have had on. I'm looking for a gold bracelet. Like this one," she said lifting her sleeve. 

    "You think she was in the system?" the chief asked as Clementine wrote down her demands. "What makes you think that?" 

    "There aren't any pictures of her on the walls. This wasn't her place. Check the rooms for duffle bags, backpacks, plastic bags with clothes in them. If she was in the system you'll find a burgundy sports bag, with a cross that has a circle around it printed in the front. It should say St. Judes Home for Wayward Girls. Anything that looks out of place. Anything suspicious I want it written down. Call me here once the place is clean so I can walk through it again," 

    "Yes, ma'am," Clementine answered. 

    "What do you want to do with the press?" the chief asked handing her the file she really didn't want to take with her much less hold it. 

    "Keep it low profile. I don't want any of this to get out. Keep it as a Jane Doe. Break-in gone bad. No suspects yet. The usual," she stopped him before he walked away. 

    "What?" 

    "Don't name me the lead on this yet. My name is still in the papers. I told you about that s**t," he sighed. 

    "What do you want me to do? Lie?" 

    "Chief, I'm taking this case. No matter what you find on this girl don't close it. She deserves to be heard even if she doesn't belong to anyone," the chief looked her over and nodded. "One more thing. This is for the examiners," 

    "What?"

    "Tell them I want to know if they find lubricant in her areas. Both ends," his eyes squinted. 

    "What?" he asked again. 

    "Lubricant?" Clementine asked.

    "Yeah,  lubricant," she nodded looking over at Kaleb. "s**t. I almost forgot. Tell Special Agent Oliveras that Wright is staying with me," 

    "What the hell is this?" the chief asked. 

    "A heads up," 

    "I can't let you do that," 

    "You can and you will. Wright disappeared for two days. I didn't like what I found. He needs to be supervised. Isn't that what you brought him here for?" 

He sighed. "What am I supposed to tell the special agent? You get how this looks," 

    "Tell her what you need to tell her. I can care less," 

    "Does Wright get a say in this?" Kaleb asked with a smirk on his face. 

    "No, you don't get a say in anything you do until you get your s**t together," she glared before motioning him to walk out in front of her. She handed him the file in her hand as he walked by. 

    "You're not his mother," the chief stated once he was out of sight.

    "Nope, I'm not. Just like you weren't my father then," she said following behind him.