January 17th

"You know, this sounds like a classic case of retaliation."

Detective Marcus Robinson glanced up at his partner before taking a bite out of his lunch. "Yeah, I know," he replied before wiping off the grease from the overloaded beef sandwich with the back of his hand and ignoring his partner’s disgusted groan.

"It's most likely gang-related. Maybe cartels," Detective Teresa Yuma carried on, playing with her salad. It looked completely unappetizing, but she promised herself to maintain a healthy diet. She wasn't like Marcus; she couldn't down two greasy, meaty sandwiches and still look in shape. "You know how much they love to be creative with their victims."

She soon gave up on the salad, leaned back in her chair and stared at her partner. "You know who is probably involved. Dr. Farris had informed me earlier about hearing some of our fellow comrades talking about them. Interesting, isn't it?"

"You can say that."

"So, what are we going to do about it?"

Marcus shrugged. "I don't know…" he admitted. "I don't know."

Their captain hadn't provided much direction. All he said told them was that he supported them one hundred percent and that they needed to dedicate all their attention on the Suite Girl case—The Suite Girl. The poor victim had only been dead for a little over a day, and the press had already given her a nickname.

At least, the detectives had an actual name: Tiffany Tomlinson. Aged 24. From the Parkena neighborhood of Malikan City—a decent-enough neighborhood full of decent-enough people. She was a part-time student at a local community college. She had been arrested twice for disorderly conduct and it was with her fingerprints that she was able to be identified.

The detectives couldn't really do much until they received preliminary findings from Dr. Swan and her team. All they knew was that they were dealing with someone who might have known the victim.

"We should notify the alphabet boys. Get the special gang unit involved. I'm sure Manuel will have a field day."

Marcus shook his head. The alphabet boys. The federal law enforcement agencies. The bane, and at times, the savior of the Malikan City police department's existence. He was honestly surprised they hadn't come knocking on his captain's door already—the Suite Girl case was a major one and it had mob-hit all over it.

"No can do. We don't have enough information at this point to get them involved… yet. Besides, Manuel's people aren't allowed to get involved in any Volturi and crew-related drama—you know that."

Marcus knew the basis of Teresa's assumptions. Jackie had shown them a series of marks on Tiffany's arms that resembled the signature of the Volturi. But Marcus hoped and prayed that it was only a copy-cat. He could handle copy-cats. Most of them were just attention-seeking fools with no life. Those cases were usually cut-and-dry. Easy to arrest. Easy to prosecute. Easy to sentence.

Easy to move on from.

He had hope, and he was sticking to it.

So was his captain.

Teresa wasn't satisfied with Marcus' answer but didn't press the issue. Instead, she pushed aside her salad and put her on her coat. Teresa reached for her wool hat on the booth seat, and put it on, pushing her of her dark brown curls underneath. They needed to get out of here.

"So, about those hotel tapes…"

Marcus groaned. There were tapes, apparently. The hotel cameras had been conveniently disabled on the night of the murder because of a "short circuit." Other than grilling the hotel staff yet again, there was no real way that the detectives could uncover who had been in the hotel with the victim.

To top it off, because it seemed that nothing in this case was going to be easy, the hotel room, the scene of the crime, had been paid fully in cash, and therefore, no credit card information been obtained. Apparently—something Marcus had to investigate because card information was almost always obtained upon checking in because of incidentals. To make matters even worse, the murder room had been under the victim's name. No one else was on record. Only Tiffany Tomlinson.

Of course.

"Captain's sending another team to the scene to gather more information since the hotel staff is obviously useless. For the time being, it looks like we gotta look into our best lead."

Teresa nodded and retrieved a piece of paper from her coat pocket. On it contained the names of a couple of Tiffany's friends. Not family—apparently, Tiffany had no immediate family on record. Thanks to social media, Marcus and Teresa were able to narrow down a list of friends who might have had contact with Tiffany on the night of her murder

***

"Did they really have to cut her up?"

Jackie remained tight-lipped as she skimmed through her newest victim's numerous medical reports. The past thirty-six hours inside the Office of the Medical Examiner, right outside of downtown Malikan City, had been frustrating. As expected, the victim found in the hotel room became the morgue's main priority. Everyone was all over this case and demanded that Jackie gave them answers. But it was frustrating because the victim's body was not revealing much. She had a feeling about the cause of death, but she needed to prove it.

"No, not really. But I'm sure whoever did this wanted to send a message," Jackie said moments later, now specifically eyeing the toxicology report. She looked up at her partner, her assistant, Dr. Vincent Tran, a newly-hired doctor, fresh out of medical school. He was approaching thirty, but at times, he behaved like a teenager. But he was a sweetheart and was reliable, so Jackie couldn't complain. "The lacerations were made after death."

"Then she died a less painful death initially assumed. That's nice to know, I guess—but it's such a damn shame, isn't it? It's been a more than a day and we still haven't received a visit from a loved one."

"They just released the name last night," Jackie argued. The police had released the name to the public less than a day after discovering her. "They probably don't know she's dead. It has only been a day."

"In this time and day, with social media?" Vince glanced at the victim. "She looks like she would have been into social media."

"Generalizing much?"

"She's in her twenties. She has to have an account somewhere."

"Was," Jackie corrected. "And not every twenty-something-year-old uses Instagram or Twitter."

Vince shrugged.

Jackie continued to closely examine the last test. "I don't understand…" she muttered, puzzled. She read the report again, thinking, hoping, that perhaps she had missed something. "The toxicology test came back negative. No drugs. Low alcohol level, but not enough to poison— No poison. No anything."

"But I thought we determined that she died from the bite?"

"She did. I'm almost certain that it had to be from some kind of poison, but there's nothing here."

"That doesn't make sense. The only conceivable way someone could die from a bite is if there was venom or she bled to death, which we already ruled out."

"No traces of a blood clot or a hemorrhage," Jackie said, handing Vince the report. Venom was dangerous because it could cause blood clots, but of course, Tiffany's body did not show any signs of such an event. "No traces of venom or drugs— not even aspirin..."

Vince skimmed the report. "Some super powerful bacteria that no one knows about?" he suggested.

"Whatever it is, it killed her in seconds. I'm thinking cardiac arrest."

"What about vampires?"

Jackie glared at the other doctor hard enough for him to shudder. "Dr. Vincent Tran, this is neither the time nor the place for your jokes."

"I'm not joking," Vince insisted. It sounded a bit ridiculous, even he had to admit, but he had encountered stranger things. "It's a documented fact that vampires bites can kill a person in a blink of an eye."

"Vince, vampires do not exist," Jackie sternly reminded the other doctor, not believing that he honestly believed in vampires. Vampires only existed in movies and legends, not in real life, she thought as she put on a new pair of gloves. The lack of explanation meant that she was going to have to conduct yet another test. "Are we honestly having this conversation?"

"It's a perfectly plausible one."

"We're in the real world, Vince, not in some Dracula movie with werewolves or some other foolishness," Jackie reminded her partner. She put the pile of reports down on the table near her and went over to the body. She removed the sheet covering the woman and scanned her to see if she had missed anything.

"I've heard rumors that they exist, too."

"Where are you hearing these things?"

"From the—" Vince stopped and stared Tiffany through narrowed eyes. Something had caught his eye. He went around to the other side of the table, stopped and studied an arm for a moment. "This mark on the insider of her wrist, how did we not catch that before?"

"A tattoo?"

Vince nodded. "Yeah, something like that." He reached over for his camera and snapped a photo. "This might help the investigation. AD?" he read. "What do you think that stands for?"

A brand, Jackie immediately thought, but she didn't say anything out loud. She didn't want to think about that possibility. A brand on the body often referenced to some connection with slavery. She asked Vince to hold up the arm, so she could further examine the mark.

"Vince?"

"Yeah?"

"Call Marcus and Teresa and tell them to come here ASAP."

****

The interview with Tiffany Tomlinson's friends scheduled for four in the afternoon at a location right outside of Malikan Community College. Detective Robinson and Yuma had certainly lucked out with both friends—Patty DiCarlo and Evan Martinez. Both were eager to talk. Both were dedicated to finding their friend's murderer. Both weren't panicking, just cool, calm and collected as they faced the detectives.

Relatively-speaking.

"I cannot believe she's dead," Patty cried, still visibly shaken by the news. She had never thought that in a million years she would personally know a murder victim, especially one had been killed in such a gruesome manner. "She was such a sweet girl, had everything going for her. She didn't have any problems with anyone. Everyone adored her. How could this have happened?"

Evan took Patty's hand into his in attempt to comfort her. He shared his friend's sentiment, but he knew they wouldn't get far if they let the grief overcome them.

Teresa tried to remain sympathetic, but Patty's statement was so clichéd that all the detective wanted to do was roll her eyes. According to families and friends, basically every murder victim was a nice, decent person who had no enemies.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Marcus genuinely said, pulling out a pen and a notepad. Teresa did so as well. "We will do everything in our power to find the person responsible for your friend's death. Again, thank you so much for meeting with us at such a short notice."

"It's no problem," Patty said with a bittersweet smile.

"We're just happy to help out the investigation," Evan added.

"When was the last time you've both seen Tiffany?" Teresa asked.

"That afternoon. We all had lunch together," Evan said, and then continued after Patty gave an affirmative nod. "That day was her birthday. We were all gonna celebrate together, but Tiffany said she already had plans."

"What kind of plans?" Marcus asked.

"She didn't say," Evan quietly replied, flashing back to that very conversation. "She only mentioned that she would meet up with us the next day to go to the Dragons' game. And that she'd let us know when to pick her up."

"Did she ever contact you both after that?" Marcus asked.

"No. That was the last time we've both heard from her."

Marcus nodded as he wrote the information down. "So, at the time we'd reached out to you yesterday, did you both already know what had happened to her?"

"No," Patty finally replied, glancing at Evan. Evan didn't mean her gaze. "We only learned about her murder from the news."

"You haven't seen her for two days…" Teresa started. "And you both were supposed to meet up with her to go to a hockey game; did you not find it a bit odd that you couldn't reach her?"

Marcus subtly nudged Teresa with an elbow, warning her to stay on course. They were not here to interrogate. "You had mentioned over the phone that during those two days that you were worried about her—" The students nodded then Marcus continued, "Where did you both realize something was off?"

"When she didn't show up for Computer class," Patty replied. She glanced at Evan was affirmation. The man nodded. "She never misses that class. Ever—" she dropped her voice. "She kinda had a thing for the professor."

"And when did you realize that something had to be wrong?"

"We never did, really…" Patty admitted, feeling guilty. "We didn't really suspect anything until we heard about the murder. I wish we had noticed earlier; we would have gone to the police."

"So, you didn't file or attempt to file a missing person's report?"

"We were gonna," Evan answered for Patty. "But we just thought that Tiff was only doing her famous disappearing act again."

"Disappearing act?"

"Yeah, about every two weeks, she would drop off the face of the earth for a couple of days. It was usually on the weekend, especially during long holiday weekends."

"We could never get a hold of her during her trips," Patty added. "No calls. No texts. Nothing. It's like she had disappeared."

"Did she ever mention anything about the purpose of these trips?"

"Not to me."

"Same for me. In the beginning, she would say that she was staying with some friends from high school or work—people we didn't know," Evan continued.

"How long has this been going on?"

Evan and Patty shared a look.

"Maybe… a year, a year and a half," Patty replied. "She would go on these trips to random, exotic places. Last month, she went to Bora Bora, Bali, Paris and Abu Dhabi... I used to think she was she was so lucky."

"So, you had reasons to believe that on the night of her death, Tiffany was on one of her trips?" Teresa wanted to clarify before jotting the information down.

"Yes. If we didn't think that, we would have definitely called the police," Patty insisted. "She's… was our friend. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her."

After spending another ten minutes questioning the pair, the detectives, namely Marcus, decided that for the time being, there was no other relevant information the two friends could give them. When Teresa finished her last question, Marcus pulled out two of their business cards and handed one to each student. "Thank you for your cooperation. You have both been a big help. We'll keep in touch."

As soon as the two college students said their goodbyes and went on their way, Marcus leaned over and whispered to his partner, "Something's telling me that our victim was living a double life."

"Something tells me you may be right," Teresa whispered back. "And sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to grill them like that. You know, I'm just to—"

Marcus squeezed Teresa's shoulder. "You don't need to apologize. You're just doing your job. A great job."

Teresa gave him an honest smile. It was a rare sight to see given her usually serious demeanor. But it was a lovely one. "Thank you."

Marcus returned the smile. A couple of weeks ago, he had been visibly annoyed when he was assigned to be Teresa's partner following his transfer. Teresa was one of the brightest detectives in the entire police force, but she also had a reputation of being intimidating and difficult. (Marcus didn't think the title was quite fair; any sane person would be pissed off upon discovering their spouse, a fellow detective, slipping inside of their cousin.)

But he was growing to like Teresa. She was a hard-ass and a smart one, at that. A wolf—something that any detective in this city needed to be if they wanted to survive in this city. she knew the truth about the people in this city, in this country, in this world. Different people. People who wouldn't be called humans if the alphabet agencies decided to pay more attention and classify them.

"So, where to next?" Teresa asked as she got into their car.

Marcus followed suit, put on his seat belt and insert his key in the ignition, turning it on. “First, we gotta get a round of coffee. I think we all need some caffeine right about now. Then, we’ll visit the morgue, see how’s Jackie’s doing.”

***

"Please, tell me you have some good news," Teresa announced, walking through the double doors of the Jackie's lab a couple of hours later. She glanced at the wall clock: 6:00pm.

"This may be your lucky day,” Jackie said. “Hey, where's Marcus?”

"Getting the coffee. What's new?"

Jackie approached Teresa and handed over her notepad.

"Thank you for the fingerprints—or what was left of them," Teresa said, after reading over the pages. The gratefulness in her tone made Jackie smile a bit. She hoped that maybe this was a sign that their relationship was improving. "We were able to find a match. The press is somewhat satisfied."

"Oh, yes, Tiffany Tomlinson from Lincoln Park," Vince said, nodding. "Hey, anything about her occupation?"

"Part-time student at MCCC and apparently, a waitress at a local diner."

"Good late afternoon, everyone," Marcus announced as he walked into the lab.

Jackie smiled at the sight of her friend bringing two cups of coffee. She had needed one— perhaps something much stronger, but that was for a later time, when she wasn’t on the clock. She accepted a cup with much gratitude and put it aside. "Marcus, you are a goddamn godsend."

"I try."

"Thanks, man," Vince said when Marcus handed him his coffee.

Marcus approached the victim's body and stared at it. It was covered by a white sheet, but he could still see where the body had been cut. "Okay, so what we got?"

"We have determined that our victim died from cardiac arrest, induced by the bite on her neck." Jackie pointed to the mark. "Unfortunately, we still do not know how it happened. There are no traces of venom and we were unable to isolate any foreign DNA."

"She must have died from something," Teresa said.

"Obviously, but—we plan to run more tests. It's going to be on the pricey side and my supervisor isn't going to be thrilled, but we don't have any other choice. I've never seen anything like this before."

"And the dismemberment?"

"Post-mortem. Done with a saw, not a machete like we initially assumed," Jackie answered. "She died very quickly and without much struggle. Perhaps that was the reason no one noticed anything until the maid came in."

"Bodily fluids from anyone else?" Marcus added. "You know, just in case."

Jackie shook her head. "Non-existent, but we do know it was a crime of passion. Normal murderers, if there is such a thing, don't do this with a dead body. Obviously, whoever did this is trying to send a message."

Marcus ran a hand through his short hair. "Yeah, we're still trying to figure out to whom."

"There's also something else I'd like to show you. We found something on the inside of Tiffany's wrist that may be of some interest." Jackie walked alongside the body until she reached the area where the severed arm lay. She lifted the sheet. The detectives stepped closer for a better look. "Do you have any idea what these letters stand for?"

Neither detective said a word.

Jackie found the silence disturbing. Disturbing enough for her to think that her initial assumption regarding the tattoo was correct. About twenty seconds passed before Marcus finally spoke up.

"Atkins-Dalca," he breathed, staring at the mark with a look Jackie had never seen before. It scared her. "It stands for Atkins-Dalca."

Jackie and Vince exchanged curious looks.

Teresa didn't look surprised. Resigned, but not surprised. She took her phone out of her pocket and quickly dialed a number. "I told you it was retaliation."

*******

"Dr. Farris, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but there's a man waiting to see you. It seems urgent."

Jackie grumbled as she stopped drawing blood from Tiffany’s forearm. This was the umpteenth time she had been interrupted as she attempted to perform yet another blood test. "Do I know him?" she inquired, glancing at the clock. Eight-ten in the evening. In two hours, she would have to leave.

"Never seen him before," the receptionist said, pointedly glancing behind—she was looking out for someone? Jackie didn't know, but she did find her behavior a bit peculiar. "But he's really cute," she added with a wink.

Jackie playfully rolled her eyes at the often boy-crazy receptionist. "Tell him—" She stopped, glancing down at Tiffany. She was still in the middle of testing it again, but the receptionist seemed adamant about her coming with her. Jackie let out of a defeated sigh. The test would just have to wait.

"Tell him I'm coming," Jackie finally said. She carefully placed her tools down and moved to cover the body in a way that would be left undisturbed for the time being. She left a note for Vince, who was scheduled to return from his break soon to start the overnight shift, so he could continue the tests. "You know what? I'll just go back with you."

Jackie quickly removed her smock and gloves and disposed of them before following the receptionist into the waiting room.

The walk felt unusually long, but Jackie decided that it had less to do with the distance and more to do with the fact that she was downright exhausted. When they finally reached the waiting area, the receptionist gestured towards the only man there, implying that he was the one Jackie should see. Jackie thanked her co-worker and headed over to the row of seats that was occupied by him alone. The closet she got to him, the more she had to admit that he was really easy on the eyes. The suit he wore fit him perfectly—

Jackie shook her head; this wasn't the time for this.

When she finally reached him, Jackie gave the man a forced smile. "Good evening," she said, taking a step back as the man rose from his seat. He smiled back at her. "My name is Dr. Farris. I believe you wanted to speak to me?"

"Ah, yes, I did." The man stood up and firmly shook Jackie's extended hand firmly. "I do apologize for being here so late."

"It's really no problem," Jackie replied, pulling back her shivering hand. The man seemed polite, but there was something about him, his aura, that unnerved Jackie. Like there was something sinister lying underneath his calm, polite demeanor. And those hands... they were so cold. "So, Mr...?"

"Gus. Gus DuPont."

The man introduced himself as if he expected her to know him, but Jackie couldn't recall the name. She could not recall anything concerning him. She gave him a small smile response. "Mr. DuPont, how can I assist you?"

"If it's not an issue, can we please continue this conversation elsewhere?" the man requested. "For confidentiality purposes?"

Jackie forced a smile. She supposed the request was understandable. There might not have any visitors in the waiting area, but the office was still bustling with employees. "Of course. Follow me."

***

"I do apologize for interrupting," Gus said as soon as he and Jackie entered her office. "I wasn't sure if you only met with visitors through appointments."

"It's fine," Jackie insisted. "So, Mr. DuPont," she began as she settled into her desk chair. She motioned for Gus to sit down across from her, but he insisted on standing. "What can I help you with?"

"I was wondering if I can put in a request concerning one of the unfortunate souls you have to work on."

"A request?"

Jackie wondered for a brief moment if the man was a family member or the spouse of a victim. Some people weren't too fond of the thought of someone cutting up their loved one's body, even if it was for a good cause. In some cases, she would have to get consent from them to even start an autopsy.

This wasn't one of those cases.

"Yes, a request,” Gus said. "I believe that you are performing an autopsy on a young woman who was found mutilated several days ago? I ask for you not to perform the autopsy."

"How did you—" Jackie quickly closed her mouth. "I apologize, but I cannot accept your request."

Judging from the look on Gus's face, he wasn't satisfied with her answer, but Jackie honestly couldn't understand why he would think that she would agree to it. What he wanted was downright illegal, and if she ever wanted to become the Chief Medical Examiner, she had to do things the right way.

"That's not what I want to hear."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have the authority to do so."

"You can't just stop it? You can't just determine the cause of death to be inconclusive?"

"I don't have the authority to do so," Jackie repeated, more sternly this time. "Furthermore, what you are asking me to do is lie, and I'm not—"

"Name the price."

"Excuse me?"

"Name the price."

Jackie shook her head, in disbelief. She had never encountered someone who wanted to bribe her into willfully not doing her job. "I cannot jeopardize my career and my reputation for this."

"Do you find the job of medical examiner dangerous?"

Jackie frowned when she noticed that he had completely disregarded her question. She didn't understand why, but she decided to answer him. "I do not understand how that’s a relevant question.."

Gus stared at her for a moment then nodded. "I read about you in the paper. A few years ago, weren't you the coroner that got caught in the cross hairs of a—"

"Mafia war?" Jackie finished, wondering where Gus was heading with this. She would appreciate if it he—or anyone, in that matter—didn't mention that incident to her face ever again.

"The mafia does not exist in this country," Gus calmly corrected.

"Look, perhaps you should be talking to the police about this issue. They will be able to help you out far more than I ever can."

"I respectfully ask for the police not to be involved," Gus responded seriously.

Sure," Jackie said, not promising anything. But from the way the man was looking at her, she didn't think that saying otherwise would help her in any way.

"Really?"

Jackie shook her head and shrugged. “Why not?”

She was lying, and the man in front of her knew it. But he didn’t appear to take any offense. It was quite the opposite. Amused, as evident by his laugh. "You're tough,” he remarked, nodding. “I'll give you that. But I assure you, you don't want to be involved in a mess that you can't understand, that you can't handle, again— do you?"

"If you want to stop this autopsy from continuing,” Jackie carefully laid out, “Then I highly suggest you get an injunction from the court."

Gus did not immediately respond. Instead, he stared at Jackie with an intense look in his eye. But before she could break under his gaze, Gus just stood up. "Very well, he said, "Thank you, Dr. Farris, for your time. I hope you have a nice, safe night."