The pale lights above flickered uncertainly, questioning the user below and prompting him to return home for the night. He had been at work for hours now, completely absorbed in the piles of paper in front of him.
Eyewitness accounts, scene photos, folders of possible suspects. There was a serial killer on the loose, and he seemed to be the only one who cared.
He flipped through a stack of folders, the accounts and history of the each death. He hadn't had time yet to read the most recent through, but a note on the top reported a summary: some old woman, out late, attacked between the street lights.
His eyes stopped on the next detail, trying to clear the fuzz to make sure he read it right. There had been a gun this time. Neighbors around had reported hearing shots, but the department had yet to find the gun or the original owner. The poor lady had gotten shot several times.
"My god, this is gruesome" Officer Jack declared. "They just keep getting worse and worse."
He didn't know what to expect now that the killer had located a gun. Didn't know where from either. This town had seemed pretty quiet until they had shown up.
He rubbed his eyes again, then closed the folder. It would have to wait until tomorrow. His mind was too cloudy to see the answer.
He pushed himself away from the desk, the rolling chair rocking backwards slightly. With a sigh, he heaved himself up to a standing position.
"See you tomorrow" He called out to the stack of papers, now lying in the dark, a pale shadow being cast with the moonlight streaming through the window.
The parking lot was empty except for his car and one other. Someone likely forgot it there for some reason or another. Or, were camped out, waiting for the station to open in the morning to file some useless complaint. The neighborhood was safe, but that meant people didn't understand the severity of what they should report. Noise complaints, ugly lawns, even looking at their house at all had once brought someone storming in to the office.
But those weren't anything compared to what was happening. Through a lot of persuasion and favor trading with the press, they had managed to keep the publicity to a minimum. They had issued a warning to stay inside at night and lock your doors, but there was no need for a mass panic. The finger pointing and false witnesses would just throw off their already muddled trail. It's better for them, and better for the town if they kept the news to themselves.
Pulling in to the parking lot the next morning, the empty car was still there from the previous night.
The office was full of hustle and bustle, the crew always finding ways to make themselves look busy. Only a few were probably actually looking in to the murders.
Already waiting at his desk was Mary, his partner in this mess of a case. She was old, but the only difference he could tell was that she was one of their best. Sure she could be a little slow, but who needed speed when you've got a trained eye capable of following any trail? Certainly not them, with the little actual information they had.
He had only pulled out the chair when she stopped him though. There was an urgency in her voice, and more youth than he remembered.
"We gotta go, there's been another one"
"Then why haven't I heard about..."
"It doesn't matter, there's a chance we could catch them if we're quick enough"
Jack didn't need any more than that, so the two were soon blazing down the road with Mary's guidance, the station setting up a crew to soon follow.
"Turn off the sirens" she ordered, "we don't want to scare him away"
The sirens whined down and Jack slowed the car as well, keeping their profile to a minimum.
A little further, then Mary held up a hand.
"Here. Turn off the engine and be as quiet as possible"
"Mary, what kind of report was this? They'll be on edge whether they know…"
"Just trust me, okay?" The tone in her voice wasn't angry, but almost… desperate. The tip must have been early this time; they were about to catch the killer before the act.
Slowly, the two crept around the corner to reveal an alley with a dramatic scene. A dirty man stood in the middle, cackling at a woman huddled in a ball next to a pipe sticking out of the wall. He seemed to be getting pleasure from the terror, as he laughed harder when waving a gun in her direction.
"My god, that has to be him. Mary, I'm going in"
He fully walked out from the corner and confronted the man with a powerful shout. The laughter suddenly stopped, as many nights worth of consequences had very quickly appeared pointing a gun in his direction.
The stolen gun fired a wild shot and missed, not focused enough to actually aim.
Jack did aim though. The gun dropped out of the man's hand, a trail of red droplets following along behind.
He kept the gun aimed, unwavering.
In short time, a crew from the station arrived and took over the scene. They took away the killer and helped the poor victim. There didn't seem to be any physical damage, but the extreme terror was enough to cause some severe psychological damage.
Eventually, the team resolved almost everything at the scene, allowing Jack to pack up and return to the station.
Mary was already there, sitting in his chair, looking a little upset.
"Mary, you are amazing. I can't figure out how you did it. Nobody else had heard anything, yet you knew exactly what to do. I don't know what I would do without you."
"Well, Jack, I'm afraid you're going to have to figure that out pretty quick. You were a great partner."
"Wait, what do you mean?" He asked to the empty chair.
He looked around to find her, but she had completely vanished.
"Mary?"
A cool breeze blew from somewhere in the otherwise stale office, nudging the case file that still lay open on Jack's desk.
He never had checked who the last case was.
He checked the sticky note, an old woman shot multiple times.
He opened the folder and was greeted with a picture of Mary, lying in the road, between two streetlights, blood spilling out of several bullet holes in her chest.
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