“He’s late.”
“Cordelia, how long are you going to say that?”
The woman glanced up at her partner, her arms crossed over her chest. “Until he gets here. If he is supposed to be some hotshot fed then I am sure he can afford a watch.” A deep sigh erupted from the large man’s chest as she spoke. She wasn’t wrong. The situation was time sensitive and they were waiting.
“I heard that he is talking with the chief.” Danny spoke, a toothpick swirling at the end of his lips.
Cordelia threw her hands up, her head shaking. “That makes it even worse. We should have just gone to the scene and he could meet us there. Evidence could be getting destroyed!”
A chuckle erupted from Danny, “You’re still young and so much to learn. You are lucky you were chosen to even work on this case. I wouldn’t blow that chance if I were you.”
“Both of you, stop. You are acting like children.” Michael’s stern voice told them if they continued, it would not end well.
As much as Cordelia hated to admit it, Danny was right. Everyone wondered why she was chosen for such a high profile case. She was a new detective, and although all the cases she was given had been solved quickly, they were not like this one. Maybe she would become a scapegoat for their failure.
For two years their town had been plagued by a torturous killer. One with a sick mind and an abundance of skills.
“Here they are. Let me introduce you.” The familiar and intimidating voice made Cordelia shoot up from her chair, Danny following suit. Before her stood the large frame of the chief. The tired look in his hazel eyes, the stubble which covered his chin, and the shiny forehead everyone made jokes about.
Michael stuck his hand out a courteous smile on his lips, “Detective Michael Clark, I am the lead on this case. It is a pleasure to meet you.” His handshake was received by the one everyone made a fuss about.
“Vincent Young. I assume these two are the other detectives working the case.” His auburn eyes scanned over both her and Danny. Instantly, Cordelia could tell this man had an inflated ego. She had heard rumors about him, mainly on his appearance. He definitely surpassed those rumors. No one would grow tired of looking at him.
“Yes. This is Detective Daniel Baker and Detective Cordelia Myers.” Michael pointed to the two of them, both sharing a handshake with the newcomer.
The chief said his goodbyes and the four of them started towards the parking garage. “Have you been briefed on the case?” Michael glanced over at Vincent who nodded in return. “Good, then you know what you are in for.”
❧
Crime scenes were normally chaotic. Bustling with people coming in and out, flashes of light from the cameras, and many kits to collect evidence. This case was different. A year in the task force had decided to limit the amount of people that entered in and out of the scene related to The Vulture. It was an attempt to limit the spread of information. The task was difficult but it did help.
The four of them met Chase Rett at the entrance to the apartment. He helped collect evidence and document the scene. A bit of an odd guy but Cordelia like him. “It has been untouched since the discovery. I suggest we get this over with quickly, I have a dinner date with my bed.” Only if Cordelia could be that indifferent to murder. It would save her a lot of money from alcohol. She wasn’t the only one either.
“Detective Young, even though you have been briefed, I want you to go in first and see if you find anything.”
Both Danny and Cordelia shared an annoyed look but neither had the strength to defy Detective Clark.
The three of them followed behind the newcomer, her eyes immediately shifting over the room. The stench of death was specific. It had been permanently engraved in her senses. The silences between the group of them hung heavy in the room. The scene laid out in front of them made her heart sink. No matter how many of these she sees, each one topped the others in new horrific ways.
When Cordelia had first been assigned to the taskforce, she wondered why this killer was dubbed The Vulture. Vultures are birds which feed from carcasses that have been discarded by the predator. Yet, it was not the killer who acted as the feathered animal, it was the audience. They all fed off his work, digesting every sight and smell of death. They were the vultures, left to ingest and clean up after a predator.
A predator that enjoyed playing with its food.
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