Lilly Thompson sat at her desk and studied the cold file in her hands. The decrease in murder had brought an opportunity to visit some of the ‘unsolved’ cases that overworked detectives, such as Lilly Thompson, tossed into the Records Room because their plates remained full of current cases. The phone on her desk rang. She reached for the phone with one hand and continued to read.
“Hello?”
“Come in my office,” Tia Mathers said. “Bring your partner with you.”
Lilly put the phone down and looked across the desk at Konan. He wore his usual t-shirt, jeans, and heavy steel toe boots. His five o’clock shadow was one day away from full beard. Konan’s hazel eyes met hers, and Lilly motioned for him to follow her.
“Come on,” she said. “Something is going on.”
Konan stood and followed Lilly. He trailed behind her, his nose still in the cold file. Lilly took it from his hands and shut it.
“Pay attention, Konan. This could be important.”
“Oh, no doubt. We can only hope.”
Lilly pushed the door open, and the pair of homicide detectives walked in. Tia Mathers sat behind a walnut desk. A middle-aged woman sat in a brown faux leather chair in front of her. Tia waved them in. One chair was available. Konan leaned against the wall, while Lilly sat next to the woman.
“What’s up?” Lilly asked.
Tia motioned to the woman that sat beside Lilly. “This is Judge Patty Traylor. She has not heard from her clerk since the close of business Friday.”
“So,” Konan said. “It’s ten o’clock on a Monday. She might’ve had a wild weekend.”
“It’s more than that,” Judge Traylor said. Tia motioned for Konan to step forward. Lilly leaned toward the desk. Tia spread photos across the desk.
The photographs showed Tiffany Watkins partying, and then in various stages of undress. The last few were of the young woman chained to a wall, wearing a spiked collar, and bleeding from various injuries on her face.
Tiffany Watkins’ captor sent an index card to Judge Traylor, along with the photographs, the message simply said: Confess.
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