Shaking my head and laughing at him, I hand him his coffee. “Here's your espresso, sweetcakes,” I tell him as I shove it in his hand and walk to fully look at the scene. Nick walks up with his notepad in hand.
“Looks like our John Doe here was waiting early this morning to catch a ride. Another one of these damn muggings gone wrong, bro.” He looks down to the victim and back up to me with a solemn, grim face.
“This shit is out of hand,” I say as I crouch down to take a look at the body.
Someone from forensics looks up to me, nodding in acknowledgment and hands me a pair of gloves.
Handing my coffee to Nick as he stands over my shoulder, I slip them on and examine the victim more closely.
“Multiple stab wounds to the chest, abdomen, and neck. Jesus, this is not a good way to start a new year,” I say to no one in particular.
Nick crouches down on the other side of the body eye level to me. Looking at me, he nods. Being partners as long as we have now, we communicate with simple looks, and know each other well enough to read each other. He knows this is fucked up, and just like with so many of these cases, we won't find the culprit. Just another victim of street violence.
I stand up angrily and kick the outside post of the metal bus stop enclosure. “We need a better way to take these fucks down,” I say pacing. I'm tired of seeing the faces of the nameless John and Jane Does, the violence, the weakness of the city. So many are homeless and at poverty level. They turn to this shit to feed themselves and their family.
“Looks like another homeless with no I.D. and definitely no money to be robbed of. Poor guy just wanted to stay warm in the enclosure here out of the elements,” Nick says slapping my shoulder and handing me back my coffee.
Nodding, I stand back and watch forensics and the medical examiner do their thing. “Carl, call my cell when you have a report,” I say to the medical examiner as he stands back up nodding while writing on his notepad.
“Will do. Not the party we expected to all be at today, huh,” he says shaking his head.
“Nah man, that's for sure,” I say solemnly with one more look to our victim.
“Go home to that pretty fiancée you got to hang on to your ugly ass.” Nick laughs, trying to lighten the mood.
“Oh I plan to, Stronzo.”
“Did you just really call me a turd?” Nick asks while laughing hysterically.
“Shut the fuck up, it was on the fly. I'm a little tired today,” I remark on a laugh while grabbing my keys from my pocket and turning back toward the side street I parked on.
“Did I just hear fiancée?” Carl yells, asking while I'm retreating.
I turn back with that shit eating grin on my face. My girl said yes, she'll make it official with me forever. My Starfish. “Sure did, man. Sure did.”
“Wow, congratulations,” he yells.
A round of congratulations comes from around the team at the scene. We've worked many of these together. We're all a team in justice. “Thanks, got the answer late last night after the party. Private showing, sorry you missed it.” I grin while tossing my keys in the air.
Becca, one of the girls from Carl’s team looks up and meets my eyes. Tossing her blonde hair behind her, she nods. I'm met with the hurt. I hope she didn't really think I was going to give my Starfish up now that I finally had her back. It's been years since I messed around with Becca, but no less hurtful I guess. Those long legs are going to have to find someone else to wrap around. I give her a small smile and leave. Time for some downtime with my girl.
My cell chimes as I head to my car. Retrieving it from my pocket, I see a text from Becca.
Becca- Congratulations Carter...seriously. Glad the Stallion finally got a permanent rider.
Me- Thanks Beccs, she's always been the rider I wanted permanently.
Not entertaining the hurt feelings of the panties I got in around the county in the past, I stow my phone and go.
Happy Fucking New Year.