It had been the one outcome that Patrick Ducont didn't want to live through. After three weeks and two bodies to deal with a third was going to make an already tough case that much more complicated. Being awoken at a little past midnight and told to get his ass to Harlem he quickly showered and threw on whatever was clean and without stains. Brown loafers,a rumbled white dress shirt,and a black tie that he fished out the hamper.
"You look like shit" his partner said as she met him upon his arrival. Unlike Patrick,Emily was dressed like she had been sitting up waiting for the call. Blue blazer suit and black heels gave her the look of professionalism that Patrick was clearly missing. "Thanks" he told her and took the coffee she handed over to him "What do we have?"
"Same as the other two" she responded "Blonde girl,between 18 and 30,and dressed very well....too well to be a part of this neighborhood". Lifting up the police tape he stepped under it and looked down at the broken body of the girl. The ligature marks around her neck were visible and it didn't take a genius to figure out her death wasn't a quick one.
"One other piece of news Patrick" Emily said "they called in the FBI on this" and turning his head to face her he gripped his cup tightly "Tell me you're joking"