cityofhaunts

[cityofhaunts]

The tired eyes that stared back at me in the reflection in the mirror just wanted rest, wanted a lifetime of rest. Exhaustion was a feature I practically had mastered wearing. Salt and pepper scruff that I continue to put off shaving, covered my cheeks but only added to a look of exhaustion. Finally I gave a final tug at the half windsor knot to the tie wrapped around my neck, bringing down and soothing out the collars and stepping away to head out.

It was 4AM, up before the sun, and I was inside my department issued 2007 Ford Crown Vic driving through the dark streets of the Savannah suburbs that had not woken up just yet, towards the city where the precinct was. I had driven this same exact route for years now, watching these streets approaching my 16th year. Images burned into my mind of the dead that continued to pile onto the streets of the city that was already built upon its dead. At times you wonder if we were cursed, and some cases I was convinced we were.

The lights of street lamps that glowed a warm orange hue reflected off the cars windows as I drove past, now in downtown Savannah, glancing outside my car windows to see staggering drunk tourists attempting to make it back to their hotels, or the homeless we never really took great care of find a bench to rest on.

Pulling into my normal parking spot, I stepped out of the car, brown dress shoes pressing to the pavement of the garage, looking around to see what cars were parked to get an idea of who was in today, what faces I need to avoid before my coffee, and those that would find ways to annoy me no matter the amount of cups I found myself drowning in.

The quiet morning I had would end the moment I stepped in through the doors, fully prepared for the buzz of dispatch calls sounding off radios, stressed officers working on the 12th hour of their shift, and the overnight arrests sitting changed and cuffed to benches, most falling asleep drunk, bloodied from fights, or kicked out of homes from domestic disputes.

My first stop was coffee, and as I headed towards the machine beside my office, a strategic decision made when choosing my office, I heard the voice behind me that I hear every morning, inhaling a deep breath, gritting my teeth, and grabbing a styrofoam cup, doing my best to just ignore.

“Mr. Hart, Mr. Hart …”

“Not now, Debbie. We go over this every morning, first I have my coffee, then I sit down for the only 5 minutes I get to sit down to enjoy said coffee, then you get to tell me whatever you want.” I spoke as I moved to make myself a cup of coffee, placing the cup in its spot, and grabbing one of the plethora of k-cups from the rack to place into its spot in the machine.

“I know, but I think…”

“All I’m asking for is 5 minutes, Debbie. 5 minutes, and some coffee.”

I spoke and just as I was about to step into my office I saw a box sitting outside the office of Detective Cooper’s. Just as Debbie was about to speak again I lifted a hand this time to point towards the mug that lifted to my lips as I sipped and walked towards Cooper’s office when I saw him loading one more box with his belongings.

“What’s going on here, Cooper?”

I spoke standing by the doorway, his eyes avoided mine as he scanned the rest of his desk, and then the surroundings. He gave a shake of his head as he lifted the box that rattled with random items and stepped past me, mumbling something about going to see the chief. Confusion etched itself on my features now, other members of the office watching as he left with one box in his arms, and the other carried by an officer escorting him out.

“What I was trying to say was Chief Edwards wants to see you.” Debbie’s voice sounded

Not realizing she was still right beside me, as I glanced towards her and simply gave her a small nod before I walked to the Chief’s office. My mind raced with the possibilities of why he was leaving, what could have happened. I don’t remember him ever talking about retirement. There were few Detectives who gave a fuck about his job the way Cooper did, so if he was let go I was curious behind the reasons.

I made my way to the Chief’s office, who’s door was open, and as I peaked in I tapped my knuckles against his door to pull his attention away from the computer screen.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Ah Cyrus, yes come in. Just shut the door behind you.”

Stepping in fully, I pushed the door closed behind me before walking to the chairs across from his desk, sinking down into one of them as he continued.

“I’m sure you just saw Detective Cooper would be stepping away from his position, which leaves us with cases that need to be picked up by someone else. At this moment we don’t have anyone coming in to fill the position, and since it’s really the one case we figured you take it on.”

I was familiar with the case he mentions.

“As you know, it’s the Bennett family case. As you also know, we’ve hit a wall in every turn with this case. It’s been cold for a long while now, and I think you’ll find with a quick review you can help us sign off on closing this case and calling it cold for good. Everyone involved would appreciate being able to move forward with their lives.”

“Yeah, I know that case. I’m surprised Cooper is leaving without more answers honestly. He seemed determined.”

“Well, if he had unlimited resources maybe he could’ve, but he was ignoring any new cases, we can’t have that. He refused to claim the case was cold even on his way out. Stubborn prick. Anyway, if you need anything just let me know, I’m having the guys move the case files to your office after lunch.”

I gave him a nod and thank you before I rose to my feet and left his office, heading back to mine. Cooper leaving this case behind makes no sense to me. He wouldn’t leave this one without answers, he refused to take on new cases because of his obsession with this case. Something didn’t seem right, or that was the overthinking Detective brain of mine causing me to look too deeply into things again.

I stepped into my office, and as I approached my desk I saw a piece of paper left on it with a name scribbled down in handwriting I recognized.

𝙈𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙨 𝘽𝙚𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙩

All that was written on the torn paper.