The Sorority

"Why are you here? And why is Jesse with you?" he asks. I figured he knew him because he was Jill's partner.

"I just busted him for shoplifting," I answer, and he shakes his head and sits down. "What's the Captain's number, I'll call him."

"Derek is way too busy right now, you'd probably not get an answer."

"Why?"

"For the last few months he's been the acting Chief."

"What? Since when?"

"It's been in an unofficial capacity, but with the Chief getting radiation treatment for cancer and likely to retire and both deputies transferring to head up precincts, he's the senior captain." I have noticed the Captain staying later than usual for a while now. I did not know that was why.

"Could you call his mom?" I ask, and he laughs.

"Suck it up and call her. You brought him in," he orders, and I laugh a little and go to my desk to call. I search the directory for a moment and find the number for the CSI lab chief. I call and it rings twice.

"Whitaker," her voice says.

"This is detective Kramner from homicide..."

"What do you want frat boy?"

"I have a Jesse Whitaker in my office right now," I say and there is a long pause. A very long pause. "Hello?"

"Why is my son there?" she asks annoyed, as if I did something nefarious.

"Maybe you should come up here and ask him yourself," I say and hang up. I will admit that slamming the phone down on her ear needlessly hard felt good.

I hear the elevator dock and open from down the hall a few minutes later. A few seconds after that Jill steps into the office space and sees Jesse who averts his eyes from her. He looks like a dog who knows he did something wrong. This kid's previous poker face, which was already weak, is now nonexistent. She knows it too.

"Jesse, look at me," Jill says, and he continues to look down and away. "Jesse."

"I can explain..." he starts.

"You can explain why a detective brought you here on a school day? As much as I don't like him, I trust his reason is legitimate because even he isn't that stupid." Thanks? "What did you do?"

"I went to the mall..."

"No, you skipped school. Start there. Mom, I skipped school and went to the mall. I doubt it was truancy alone that led you here. What. Did. You. Do?" she asks, and I am scared for this kid. She is fucking terrifying.

"I stole something," he finally says, still looking away. That early teen bravado he had on display earlier has all but evaporated.

"God dammit Jesse. Why? Both of your parents are in law enforcement. You know better. First this stuff at school with you being a bully, and now you're stealing?" she asks and he continues to look away from her. "Young man, listen to me when I'm talking to you..."

"You're not my mom!" Jesse snaps back and jumps up from the chair. He shoves his way past her and into the hallway and Jill is at a loss of words. Ballsy little shit, I will give him that.

"Get back here," Jill says, holding her ground and not giving him the satisfaction of being followed. He does not come back, and Jill lets out an aggravated sigh and looks at me. "Enjoy the show?"

"He's not your son?" I ask.

"He's from Derek's first marriage, but I've had him since he was six. He is my son," she stresses.

"Where's his birth mother then?" I ask. I was very careful not to say real mother.

"We don't know, likely face down in a drug den somewhere. She was a piece of shit, and we haven't seen her in nearly a decade."

"Want me to talk to him?" I ask and she looks at me like I have a cock on my head.

"The man who called me a cunt is not going to teach my son manners," Jill says.

"He's trying to get attention."

"Why?"

"Well, when is the last time his dad got off before ten at night?"

"This is not about his father..."

"Yes, it is," I say bluntly. "The fact both of his parents are in law enforcement has everything to do with why he's using criminality to get your attention. I have my own history of daddy issues and I know what's spinning in his head right now."

I say nothing more and stand up from my chair. Jill says nothing as I go to find Jesse, leaving her behind. I hear her start to talk to Lieutenant Queen a moment later.

Jesse did not go far, just to the break room around the corner. The elevator requires a key card to use so not like he could get far. He is sitting in the chair and I sit opposite of him.

"How long has Jill and your dad been together for?" I ask, and he looks up at me, then down again. He would much rather talk to me.

"Seven years."

"Let's do some math. You're thirteen. That means she's been your mom, longer than your real mother has, for reasons I won't ask. Whether or not she shows it, that hurt her to hear you say that. But trust me, this is not how you get their attention."

"Who says I want their attention?"

"Stop me when I'm wrong. Your dad hasn't been home in months, and when he is, it's late and he's gone again before you wake up. Your mom is pregnant, and you feel worried that you'll be the second priority when the baby comes. The only time they seem to talk to you is when you're in trouble, and you don't like to disappoint them, but what else do you have?"

Jesse solemnly looks up at me. Nail on the head. He seems relieved that someone finally saw that and articulated it. Not like it was rocket science though.

"You need to talk to them, but first you need to apologize. You need to mean it," I say, then realize I am a flaming hypocrite, and pause. "This...is not a healthy way to get their attention. Say you're sorry, and why you did it. Your mom is feisty, but something tells me she's really cool too."

Jesse smirks a little and looks down to hide that he does think his mom is awesome.

"She is," Jesse says softly to himself. "She used to be a badass detective too. She got hurt though. She's still hurt. Now she's just a badass at something else. As cool as my dad is, my mom is my hero."

"Tell her you're sorry, and then tell her how you feel," I say, and he nodded and leaves the break room to go back to his mom. They left together and Lieutenant Queen sent me home.

--

Monday -- March 24, 2025

When Marlene moved in, my apartment was gradually taken over with a nautical theme. Her father retired from the Navy and she spent her entire childhood jumping from one Navy base to another. Because of that my apartment is littered with Navy memorabilia, mermaids, starfish, and seashells. Not like I did much decorating before that.

My empty walls were replaced with pictures of the two of us, and pictures of her with her family. Her family is so close to one another, and because of that, it has always weirded her out my family is not. I do not have the equivalent of pictures where she is sailing on her family boat. Not many fun events with my nearly all lawyer family. We have pictures of us all smiling with my dad in his black judge robes, but I am pretending to smile. Putting that up in my home would unnerve the shit out of me.

I was already home and in bed when I hear the door open and close. Keys clang in the key bowl next to the door. A minute later Marlene enters the bedroom, and leans on the dresser to remove her heels, looking up at me as she does.

Marlene and I have been together for five years ever since I was a patrol officer. I remember the day we met. Her company conducted a sexual harassment seminar at the precinct. She works event coordination for an organization that conducts those kinds of check the block events that everyone must hear but no one really listens to.

Back then she wore her business attire and heels with a high bun with long hair pins. She has always been very put together with the worst case of resting bitch face I had ever seen up until that point. The kind of woman who shuts down men on the approach before they even get to her at the end of the bar.

Sandy blonde hair and blue eyes with thinned out eye brows and long lashes. A small pointed nose between cherry cheeks so flush she always looks like she is blushing. Under that business attire is smaller but very perky breasts with tiny nipples and a flat tummy leading to her trimmed bush. Long, skinny gazelle legs with toned muscular thighs and calves, and moderately large feet for a girl her weight. She is probably a buck twenty soaking wet, but I have not asked her in a while, and I will not make that mistake again.

"How was your day?" I ask, and her reply is a grunt.

"You'd think a sexual harassment seminar would minimize the amount of time a guy hits on me in a day," Marlene replies, her style of saying 'just a normal day, how was yours?'

"At least you know the need for them won't die out any time soon," I say, and she sits on the edge of the bed to pull her socks off. "Job stability."

"You going back to work tomorrow?" she asks, and I nod and say yes. "More long nights of you gone? I need to make this night count."

Standing up from the bed, she unzipped the side of her skirt which dropped to the floor. Marlene crawled up the bed and pulled the covers down do access my waist. My boxers followed. She gripped my soft but quickly rising cock and stroked as she leaned up to kiss. She went back down, licking up the shaft to quicken my erection, and then drops her mouth on me.

Marlene is very antsy tonight it seems. She is almost never this forward. I am very lucky to get a blowjob of any kind, and right now she is damn near deep throating me. Usually if she does this, she only goes for a minute after I am hard. Tonight when I look at the clock she has been at it for five minutes. I have not had a blow job this good since college. If she does not stop soon, I'll come before we can do anything else.

"I'm getting close," I groan out, pulling up her hair and watching her work me. Her tongue is spiraling around the head and her hand is working the shaft. She takes it deep for a few mouth strokes then goes back to the head spirals. "Almost there."

"Don't warn me," Marlene says when she takes a breath then resumes. Holy fuck, am I finally after five years going to get to come in her mouth? I have been barking up this tree for years. "Push my head down when you do, make sure I take it." I need to get shot at more often.

I feel it and brace, it starts to build then I release, gripping her hair and pushing her head down as she requested. I feel her twitch and stop sucking, then resume a second later. I see a combination of drool and my jizz roll off her lip, down my cock, and onto my balls. She grips my dick with her lips and sucks up hard, and my entire body tremors. With a slurping sound her mouth comes off and swallows me down, showing a struggle to do. She then drops back down and keeps sucking.

My body quakes as I try not to spasm around. I vocalize it with grunts and groans until she finally comes up for air. She tugs her panties to the side and faces away to lower herself on me. I have never had this position with her. Nothing but ass and she orders me to spank her, which I do with a confused glee. So many firsts tonight.

Marlene rides me so hard I do not lose my erection. She demands a switch to doggy and for me to be rough. Marlene does not like rough. She does not do blowjobs often. I translate rough as pulling her hair back like reins and more ass slapping.

"Fuck me harder!" she screams, and I am more than willing to be accommodating. I flip her to her back, pull her panties the rest of the way off and tear her shirt open. I yank her bra down to reveal her breasts and drill my dick back inside. I hold her legs up by her ankles at my shoulders and drive into her as hard as I can. "That's right, get it!"

Marlene lets out a guttural scream from her belly. I have never heard this from her, but I would like to hear it more often. Her voice is hoarse when I announce I am close to coming, and she pushes me back and slides to the floor on her knees and downs my cock again. When I express closure, she pulls my dick back and keeps jerking until I cum all over her face. It is in her hair and dripping off her chin to her breasts. She polishes me off one last time before leaving to the bathroom to clean up a little.

"That was amazing," I say, slightly dazed by the whole thing. She does not say much in reply. She just rolls over and goes to bed. What the hell?

The next morning when I wake up, she is already dressed and packing some of her stuff into a suitcase.

"You taking a trip or something?" I ask, and she does not reply. "Marlene."

"No, I'm leaving. I'll get the rest of my stuff next week," Marlene replies as she continues to pack.

"What the fuck was last night then?" I ask.

"Break up sex, give you something to miss," Marlene says, zips her bag up and starts walking out, rolling it behind her. I climb out of bed and follow her to the living room where she pauses.

"Why? What the fuck did I do?" I ask.

"Five years Chase, and all I've seen you do is piss away your potential. You went to Dartmouth for fucks sake. You could go get anything, and you're a cop," Marlene says.

"So? Who says a Dartmouth graduate can't be a cop?"

"What is your dad doing right now?" she asks, and I shrug. "Really, you don't know. Good thing we have DVR," she says, picking up the remote and then turns on the television. Going through our recordings she starts playing CSPAN and I see my father going through his Senate Judiciary hearing for an appointment to the DC Court of Appeals.

"Your dad is flying through this on a bipartisan basis and is already shortlisted to fill the next one or two vacancies on the Supreme Court. Your brother is ten points ahead in the polls and will likely be a congressman for Connecticut next year. Your sister is a law clerk for Justice Alito. And you're a cop."

"Not everyone is cut out for it."

"Not everyone had an acceptance letter to Yale Law School with a one seventy-seven LSAT and said fuck it, and became a cop," Marlene says. I get it, I am a cop, and you do not think that is ambitious enough.

"You are probably, the dumbest smart person I have ever met," she says and grabs her bag again. "You have limitless potential, and you're squandering it."

I stand quietly and take a deep breath. I do not know what to say.

"You still dress like you're in a frat," Marlene starts. Great, her too. "Your charm is nothing but a thin veneer for your doucheyness, and you think being a cop makes you cool because you get a gun and badge to flash at bars for free drinks. I need an adult while I'm still young enough to get one, because maybe I'm looking for more than a fuck buddy."

"Marlene..."

"Unless the next words are something about plans to quit and do something actually worthy of your ability, don't bother." I say nothing and she's gone with a hard door slam.

The thing that stunned me the most was the realization, I had the entire break up conversation butt naked.

--

Tuesday -- 25 March, 2025

I am not even to the department before I get a call from Lieutenant Queen routing me to a murder scene. I am going alone this time with Leo still in the hospital. I pull up behind the yellow taped line guarded by two uniformed officers. I flash my badge and step under the tape and into a parking lot behind a bar.

Employees park in the back and patrons park in the front. It is off an alley and I do not see a camera anywhere, so tough break on that. The lot itself could park twelve vehicles by my count and the sides between the two buildings are blocked off by fences without gates to get through.

Lying next to a car is a dead woman on her side in a pool of what I will assume is her own blood. She is facing the car which has a smear from where she likely stumbled into it and slid down, creating the wiping look of the blood. I see visible blood blotches on her back as well, from what I will guess are stab wounds.

Jill is crouched over the body, her assistant lifting the shirt to photograph the back wounds. She places a ruler next to the back to show scale and looks up at me as I arrive.

I wore jeans with a long sleeve button up and a blazer, since her son ruined my suit shopping trip. But at least it is not a polo.

"You do own things other than polos," Jill teases and stands up fully, using only her left hand to help push herself up with her knee. Her right arm was injured then.

"I do," I confirm, and she walks around some blood stains to avoid contamination.

"Whatever you said to Jesse, thank you," she says, and I smile a little. "You're still a douche."

"I'll take it," I say.

"I did some homework too. You did go to Dartmouth. Summa cum laude, super high LSAT score, accepted to Yale. Why are you here?" she asks with a laugh, and I wonder how she got my record. Oh yeah, my boss was her partner. Also, twice in one day, really? "I don't mean anything by it, I'm sure you had your reasons. I was way off."

"Your point was, don't make judgements about people you don't know. You're still right," I admit, and she grins.

"Got a theory know it all?" her assistant says from the body. Same guy from the Edward Taylor crime scene. Heath if I recall.

"Just got here, walk me through the facts and I'll take a stab at it," I say, then look at the stab victim. I grimace a little from my own remark. "Pun not intended."

"Amanda Hopkins, female, twenty-five, seven stab wounds that we've identified, five in the front lower torso, two in the back upper torso," Jill explains as I crouch for a closer look. She leans into her bag and hands me a pair of gloves that I put on. I pull down the collar of her shirt and see the two in the back. "You can roll her, we've got the pictures for placement."

I roll the victim to her back. She was pretty. Delicate features in blood covered brown hair. She looks tired though, but in the way a person who achieved something of great difficulty does. I lift the front of her shirt and see the five lower torso hits and look at them closer. I gently pull them apart, looking for something very specific, and I see it on all five.

"Single edged blade," I say.

"That's very difficult to determine without an autopsy," Heath says.

"Blade length is harder, unless it impacted some hard organs like her liver, which is very possible," I say then direct their attention. "But these were made, all perpendicular to the Langer Lines, which creates this boating effect where the sharp end points and becomes slightly wider at the squared off end of the knife. The attacker held it straight, with the sharp edge pointed down."

"Heath," Jill says and he looks at her. "Take notes, he's right."

"But unless our attacker switched grips in mid stabbing fury, we're looking at two blades here. The boating effect is reversed on these two," I say, pointing at two different wounds from the three where the back end of the boat is on the bottom. "Also, these three, have bruising around the wound, and these two don't." A purplish yellow bruise is visible around three of the wounds. I can also see the faint line of an impression. "These three are from a fixed blade with a guard. These two are from a smaller folding knife."

"How can you tell?" Heath asks.

"That's a bigger leap than the others honestly. But when you flip open a folding knife the sharp edge is help up and you wouldn't typically see someone switch their grip afterwards if it's spur of the moment." Heath writes that down.

"Was she stabbed right here?" I ask, gesturing around her body. Jill shakes her head and points over to another large pool of blood twenty feet away closer to the alley.

We all walk over to the second pool of blood, following a trail leading to the car. This is obviously where the initial struggle happened. I see a small glint in the pool and ask Jill for some tweezers. She has Heath take a picture of what I see, and I place my pen in the frame for scale. I then use the tweezers to pull up a small shard of glass roughly two millimeters in length. It doesn't just look like simple glass though.