“ heh, yeah throw ‘em both in. i think they’ve got a thing for each other, y’know ?? “ a smirk on her lips, she remembered her time as a rookie rather fondly ( though she was glad she’d risen the ranks now ). still, she kind of liked pairing them up from time to time. gary and mary, despite their unfortunate pairing of names, were enamored with each other, she was sure of it, “ but yeah, sounds good, i’ll meet you there, “
profile finds its way clasped between her fingers, bag slung over one slim shoulder while her free hand swipes the half empty coffee cup. she manages to drain it with speed, tossing it into the rubbish bin before she enters the captain’s office, placing the profile on the desk. there’s not too much discussion, apart from specifying the movements of her and her partner, the more time they spend on these details, the more time they spend not out finding leads. so far evidence has been short, only really running off of projected documents and looking through the eyes of psychiatric professionals. they needed something solid, and quickly, as the board was beginning to fill with photographs and their list of people to talk to grew.
she makes her way down to the garage, sliding shades over her eyes as she spots carla, “ i let her know that we’d be by, but i don’t think she registered. finding out your kid’s dead does that to you. still not the worst reaction i’ve gotten, i remember one woman took a wing at me with an umbrella stand. and yet, can’t blame her, “ she slides into the passenger seat, pulling out the victim’s file, “ 522 park drive, “ she mutters as she programs it into the gps, “ reminds me of my high school years, fuck. did a stint at horace mann. where’d you shack up when you were a teen ?? “
over the years she had learnt one thing; remaining human could mean the difference between where you ended up on the force. take shit too seriously, and you could end up in therapy before you made detective. so she asked stupid questions, sometimes talked about her life, offered to invite carla around for dinner with her kid every so often ( though always to a restaurant, she didn’t want to accidentally murder her own partner with her cooking ). anything to distract from the overwhelming scent of death.
They had two totally different childhood experiences, Carla was raised by a pair of working class immigrants, but her family did the best they could given the circumstance of trying to provide a better life for their daughter. A slight smirk, before a shake of her head.
❝ Abraham Lincoln High School. I think? It’s been awhile I try to forget about it. It was a rough time for me. But now I’m kinda having to relive it through my daughter a little bit. ❞
Her daughter was the main bliss in her life, the thing that kept her going day in and day out. Everything she did was for her, after the GPS was added she had started up the car and put her seat belt on and pulled out of the garage and headed towards their destination. A few more alerts from her cellphone, but she kept her mind on the task at hand. Eventually after being directed by the monotonous voice coming from the navigator. She knew roughly the area they were going to, the traffic was smooth. Getting there in the estimated time given. Parking the car, and undoing her seat belt. This was the part Carla absolutely hated but it needed to be done,
❝ I don’t know what I would do if Valencia was murdered. I probably wouldn’t get out of bed for a few years. ❞
Grabbing her phone up and checking the message, a soft chuckle before pocketing it. Knowing she was acting inappropriate, it was a relief somewhat for what they were about to walk into. Getting out of the car, and closing the door and walking around. Waiting for Fallon.
❝ Alright let’s just get this over and done with. I can tell it’s going to be a long day. ❞
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