Get caught up on the action by reading yesterday’s post which i’ve post publishing now dubbed Chapter 0.
Or dive straight in to the action below:
The phone vibrated against the bed post it had snuggled up next to after falling unceremoniously from sleeping hands at the conclusion of a late night doom-scrolling session. Caleb silently pleaded to his subconscious for a few more minutes, concocting stories of why the noise was not a call to consciousness that would only make sense in a dreamland. It was no use.
Caleb clumsily fumbled around the bed sheets, unaware of the journey his phone had taken in the early morning hours. “Where the f…” he began to mutter as his eyes, freshly adjusted to the dark room were hit with the relentless bright screen. Without leaving the bed, he reached down and answered the phone and began to sit up, his body tense, sensing what was about to come.
This wasn’t the first time he’d been woken up by his phone and Caleb knew exactly what it meant; his day was about to begin.
“I’ll be right there.” Caleb said instinctually, barely processing anything said. He sat, feet on the floor, broad shoulders hunched over, head hung so far over his knees that a gentle breeze could have knocked him to the floor. Looking down he realized he was still wearing pants from the night before. He hadn’t been on a case for a couple days and the lack of routine meant his life slowly fell into disarray. Cases kept him on track. Cases kept him away from his thoughts.
After finding a shirt on the ground, Caleb quickly brushed his teeth before heading down from his walk-up apartment on the third floor. The building had once been home to some soon-to-be famous writer’s and actors but like a fading Hollywood career, the attempts to rejuvenate the building after years of neglect, left the building feeling fake and hollow. At least it was close to the station.
The rain must have come and gone in the witching hours because the city was left with a thin coating that caused the lights to shimmer as they provided their beacons to those who thrived at night. Caleb’s street was always bustling with the type of people he’d often come across on the wrong side of an investigation. But the city provided a never ending stream of future work. Luckily for everyone he passed, tonight was not their night.
As he stepped foot in the station, he was flagged down by the voice on the other end of his morning wake-up call. Sergeant Maurice Stoller was an intimidating figure any day of the week, but nothing made him more aggressive than a recent homicide. It was though he took each and every one personally. As if they were an affront to his well-being and the only cure was ensuring the perpetrators were put behind bars. But when Caleb entered the Sergeants office there was no sense of righteous indignation.
“What’s going on Stoller? And don’t fuck with me.”
“It’s a case, as I’m sure you figured out, but…” Stoller trailed off as his hands grazed the manilla envelope holding the case file. “but this one’s not something I’ve seen before.”
“Oh come on,” Caleb snapped. What could that even mean? “We work for the San Francisco Police Department, we’ve seen it all.”
“I know, I know. But this is…” he trailed off again, “just take a look”. He pushed the envelope across the desk. Caleb started opening it. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Stoller added while looking out the window behind his desk. Caleb paused. Unsure what was happening, he shook it off and opened the case file. “Holy shit.” Caleb muttered. Almost inaudibly, but the Sergeant quickly swivelled back around and slammed his hands on the desk. “We’ve got to figure this out quickly, before word starts getting around.”
Caleb was transfixed on the images in front of him. What had happened to this Captain was not just a murder, it was a message. The question wasn’t who did this, but who was the message for? Because no one would do that to a body who didn’t want to ensure the person receiving this message got it loud and clear.
There wasn’t another word spoken as Caleb left the room, still staring at the file. The Sergeant was still talking, but the words weren’t penetrating Caleb’s focus on his new case. He caught the address of the marina where the Captain kept his ship, and decided he’d head there first to see what he could figure out. The CSI team would already be there taking samples and gathering whatever they could. He did not envy the team on duty for this job. The marina was about thirty minutes away so Caleb could get there just as the day was breaking. He grabbed a cup of stale coffee from the machine, and hit the road.