There was something wrong here, he was as sure of it.
Detective Joey Moss was three and a half months on the force, a transfer from, of all places, Chicago. He wanted a challenge, and knew that Paragon City, with its multitude of metas, would be a definite challenge to him.
Joey wasn’t a meta, but he had excellent intuition. He had caught murderers in that city, that usually got off scott free. He was not bribeable, as too many people found out.
However, that didn’t stop others from being bribed.
Joey went into his captain’s office for the third time that week. “I’m getting calls from people, Joey,” he said, as soon as Joey shut the door. “Higher ups, and their higher ups. They want to know when you’re going to stop this investigation.”
“I know they’re making drugs there. They talk about it. And this boss they talk about, who has the formula – I can’t find him.”
“You don’t want to find him, Joey.” The captain looked weary. “What have you found out again?”
“We arrested the kid who was selling the meth. He kept saying that ‘the boss’ had better drugs, that all you needed to do was ask, and get some sort of tattoo mark.”
“And the kid is in custody?”
“Out on bail.”
“You mean he hasn’t shown up dead, yet? Or skipped town?”
“I don’t know what you mean—“
“Try and find him now. I’ll bet dollars to donuts he’s gone. If he is gone, I’m tossing this case. You’ve wasted a week on it already.”
“Why are you getting calls, though? It’s just a drug dealer.”
The captain looked firmly at Joey. “There’s some things you don’t know about some metas, Joey. Some metas provide a service, and keep other metas quiet. Okay? And some things that they do, they’re not pretty.”
“Selling drugs to college kids?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Joey didn’t think even his captain could be dirty. But things like this happened in Chicago all the time. Internal Affairs would have to get involved. He’d have to do some talking to people.
“Find your kid and bring him in for custody, for his own good.”
Joey went back to his desk and called the number the kid had given him. There was no answer. He glanced over at his partner, Kristina DeMedieros. She also thought he was off on a wild goose chase and spent most of her time catching up on paperwork. “Kris,” said Joey, “Want to come with me to find that meth kid we got from the Rack?”
“Sure, I guess,” she said, and got up. “Will we need backup?”
“Nah, I don’t think so.”
They went to the kid’s dorm, where he said he was staying on campus at the university. A young man answered the door, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. They displayed their badges and asked for Zach Saddoris. “You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
“Werewolf got him.”
Joey swallowed, “A werewolf?”
“Yup. Tore his throat out so bad his head was held on by the skin on back of his neck. Broke his neck open and everything.”
Things like this did not happen in Chicago. “When did this happen?” Kris asked, recovering first. She’d lived all her life in Skyway City, so was aware of some of the things that could happen.
“Oh, something like a week ago. Wait – “ He yelled into the hall, “HEY! WHEN DID THEY TELL US ZACH WAS DEAD?”
“Tuesday,” said a girl’s voice. “At least you guys told me on Tuesday, because I had an exam that day.”
“Yeah, Monday or Tuesday.”
Kris nodded sagely, writing in her notebook. “Where’s the body?”
“I guess back home. He came from St. Louis.”
“Do you know his parents?”
“He didn’t talk much about them.”
“Siblings?”
“You wanna see his room? They haven’t cleaned it out yet.”
“We’ll need a warrant,” said Joey, finally finding his voice.
Kris said, “I’ll call for one. Anyone gone in there?”
“Just the RA.”
“We’ll need to speak with him or her also. What’s their name?”
“Asima Sahoo.”
“Good, good. Give me a couple of minutes, I’ll get us a warrant, and find Ms. Sahoo, and the manager here.”
“Okay, will-do.”
Joey stepped aside, and stared at Kris. “A werewolf?”
“Not that uncommon in some parts of Paragon. But they don’t usually go wild here in the city. We’ll need to talk to his parents, you know the routine.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Joey said, unconsciously putting a hand on his throat. His intuition was screaming that this wasn’t a random hunt, that Zach was intentionally murdered, but by who? Someone in the Rack? A drug dealer? That so-called boss? A werewolf on drugs?
The warrant came about two hours later, along with a couple of patrol cars. The manager let them in, wringing his hands over feeling how sad he was over the death. The room was the size of a closet, and it didn’t take long for four patrolmen and the two detectives to find what they were looking for. Sahoo said that she had gone in to make sure the lights were off and any illegal appliances were unplugged or not on.
Kris said that she’d call the parents. “This is something different now,” she said. “I don’t think it has anything to do with the Rack.”
“You can’t be serious. Two days after he’s let go, and he goes and gets his throat cut?”
“Not our fault he was in the wrong part of town, looking for a hit.”
“Are you blind?” Joey glared at her. “I can’t believe it. You’re dirty, too.”
Kris said coldly, “I think you’re the one with the problem, Moss.”
Therefore, he was only marginally surprised the next day, when he got a summons from Internal Affairs.
Words: 970
(time, 1.5 hours)