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“I’m not petting you,” I warn and walk away. He hisses at the insult. “That’s what I thought. I know this game.” Grabbinghis wet food from a cabinet in the kitchen I start the process of feeding the crotchety cat. “You act all lovey-dovey and then go in for the kill.”

Midnight struts over like the prissy prince he is and hops up on the counter to wait impatiently for his dinner. Tail curled perfectly around his fluffy paws he paints the perfect picture of innocence.

“I do feel bad you’re getting this so late today, but better late than never, huh?” I rest my elbow on the counter as he delicately laps up the food when I set the can in front of him. I resist the urge to scratch behind his ear. He might be cute, but he’s deadly. I have an automatic dry cat food feeder that goes off at scheduled times throughout the day, but Midnight needs his wet food or hell will be raised.

Looking at the cat I can’t help but think about my father and his situation.

My parents were sickeningly in love until they weren’t. It’s supposed to be ‘til death do us part, right? Apparently, my mother didn’t believe that. My dad was diagnosed with early on set dementia when he was fifty and it rattled her. The symptoms started slowly with forgotten dates, items on the grocery list, and repeated questions of things that were just answered. Then it morphed into wandering, misplacing important things, and loss of recognition.

My mom panicked and couldn’t deal with it, even though it’s the responsibility of a loving partner to help their spouse through the best and worst of times. As soon as the doctor told us it was going to progress quickly, and he should be admitted into an assisted living community she ran for the hills.

I haven’t talked to her in a long time. Although, she’s tried to call me randomly over the years, for what I’m not sure. Out of guilt? To beg my forgiveness?

She didn’t just abandon him when she left. I was only eighteen. I still needed my mom and she was just gone. It was a harder blow than my father’s diagnosis. At least he didn’t forget about me because he wanted to.

As his daughter it was hard to watch as the strong, proud man I once knew as my father slowly deteriorated into a shell of himself. A much loved and stellar detective himself when he was in his prime, I saw how much it hurt him to lose every part of himself.

I hope most people will never know the excruciating pain of walking into a room and having one of the most important people in their life not recognize them.

The first time it happened was a knife to my gut and after the visit I sobbed on my couch. I think that was the one rare occasion Midnight let me use him for comfort without scratching me.

Even though he was a little piece of shit, the cat was one of my last few ties to my father. He was his partner in crime for ten years. While he still had a sliver of lucid mind left, he asked me take care of him.

“I don’t trust anyone with him besides you.”He had said while giving Midnight an affectionate last pat on the head. I wanted to insist he keep him since pets can help dementia patients, but with tears in his eyes, he had said I needed him more, knowing I’d be alone.

“Ow!” I rub my ankle where Midnight has suddenly decided to take a bite out of my leg. Looking down he’s glaring up at me with his beady eyes, tail whipping behind him. “I gave you your dinner and apologized for it being late.”

He grumbles and I roll my eyes, heading back to my bedroom making sure to close the door so he can’t follow. Exhaustion weighs heavily on me and sleep can’t come soon enough. Not when I know the kind of work cut out for me tomorrow.

CHAPTER 3

CELINE

“Good morning, Celine.” A cheery voice calls out to me as I round my desk at the station the next day. Sitting down, I place my leather jacket over the back of the chair and grab the file placed in the center of my desk.

Ava, Captain Barnes’s secretary, and my closest friend, smiles at me from outside his closed office door.

With wavy pastel pink hair and a white flowy shirt, she’s the polar opposite to my ebony locks and black ensemble. I met her my first day on the job two years ago and we’d been fast friends, although her energy took some getting used to.

I suppose in our line of work you either compensated for the constant debauchery by being a bubbly optimist like her or a solemn realist like me. Some called me grumpy, butIwouldn’t go that far. This was a tough profession to be in.

“Are you excited to take on the Mayhem Murderer case?” Her pen sways back and forth between her fingers like she has to find some way to let her energy out.

“Is that what they’re calling these murderers?” I ask without looking up from my file but can see her animated hand gestures out of my peripheral. “You know we’re not supposed to give them names.” I arch a brow in her direction, trying not to smile.

“I know,” she laughs, and folds her hands demurely on her desk. “But every murder is so...” She flings her perfectly manicured hand out searching for the right word. “...disgustingly gory and bloody with so many bodies. You have to admit that it’s kind of fascinating that anyone can stomach committing crimes that involve so much gore.”

“How do you know so much about the case?” I ask, since despite her position she shouldn’t be privy to this much knowledge on it.

“One night over drinks Detective Kerr spilled his guts to me and some of the other staff in attendance. He went off about how he couldn’t take it anymore, gave us all kinds of details he probably shouldn’t have. I guess it was the case that finally broke that bastard. You’d know this if you went out with us more.” She levels me with a firm look. “The team has a done a good job keeping it under wraps for the most part but with the media starting to get a hold of it, panic is going to set in with citizens.” She taps her finger against a newspaper on her desk.

I remember Captain Barnes’s mention of all the detectives that have dropped the case when we were on our way to the scene.

“Captain says he has total faith in me.” Paging through the stack of papers, I mutter to myself, “No pressure.”

I want to live up to his expectations. Captain Barnes has believed in me since day one. I think he feels like he has to make up for my dad’s absence. I can’t help but think he associates his legacy with my potential, which can be a bit much.

“I know you’ll figure it out. You always do, and he wouldn’t have promoted you without a reason.” She turns back to her desktop and her long-manicured nails tippy-tap against her keyboard. I don’t know how she stands having her nails that long. I keep mine filed as short as possible.