Summary: Detective Joss Carter has seen some of the worst things that humans can do to one another both in the Army and in her job as a detective on the murder squad. When Zoe Morgan, fixer and vampire, steps into her life, Joss’ world is upended. Against the backdrop of a burgeoning investigation, they work to find equilibrium.
Author’s Note: This is Part One of the Series.
Sylum Timeline: 2014 AD
August 2014
Summer nights in New York City were Alicia Garcia’s favorite. While everyone else beat feet either out of town – if they could afford it- or hit up any number of shops that didn’t care if you hung out enjoying the air, Alicia rode the train out to Coney Island or Jones Beach and joined the masses on the shores of the Atlantic.
Sweltering heat would at some point break with the advent of off-shore winds, bringing things down to a tolerable level and making it possible to walk throughout the city. She turned her nose up at the budding ride share companies; taking a chance on someone who was going to drive you with their own car? That was only asking for trouble. She was a proud product of a lifetime of riding public transit.
Which is how she found herself waiting for the A at Dyckman Station, right at midnight, humming a bachata tune that carried in the still air. It had been a great party; Ramon and Mariana were a cute couple and with a lot of luck and work their marriage would last. Alicia had begged off one last dance because she needed to get home so she could get ready for work.
She checked her watch then looked down the dark tracks, imagining the train winging its way towards her.
She never heard or felt the person who took her life.
**
Joss pushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead and slipped out of her jacket. Hanging it on the back of her chair, she sighed heavily. Late summer in New York City was never a good time. The well-heeled took off for the Hamptons while everyone else made due with public beaches.
Rising humidity guaranteed that the minute you got out of the shower you were sweating again.
Pulling a double this time of year was not exactly Joss’ idea of fun but the department was short handed with more than a few of her brothers in blue calling out for a variety of reasons. The fan on her desk was about the only thing keeping her sane. Chancing a look at her partner, Lionel Fusco, she noticed that he had done what he could in order to make himself a little cooler; suit jacket hung on the back of his chair, tie loosed. He happened to look up and caught her eye.
“I know what you’re going to say,” she groused. “Just another hour and we’re out of here.”
“Someone’s gonna owe us big,” Fusco retorted. Joss’ response was an amused snort and then she looked back down at the report on her desk.
“Fusco. Carter. My office.”
Joss and Fusco’s previous captain was reassigned, while some key figures were either behind locked doors with IA or just gone. Rumor had it that the Feds were looking into some hidey holes and not liking what they saw.
Joss’ own obsessive work on the HR case had made her about as many enemies as friends, but being shot right practically in front of the station and surviving it was enough to swing more than a few of the old timers to her side. By their logic, she’d played it fair and brought down the ones who needed to be brought down. Joss getting shot outside her own house didn’t sit well with them.
She was one of theirs.
Joss looked at Fusco who shrugged and pushed away from his desk. She mirrored the motion and was only a step behind him when they swept into the captain’s office.
Captain Russell Miller, Loyola graduate and former member of the LAPD, had only been a member of their squad for the last six months. After the HR fiasco, One Police Plaza cleaned house. Miller had cut his teeth on the streets of LA. Somehow, he’d kept his nose clean and rose through the ranks of the LAPD until he was looking at a captain’s spot. When he showed up for the interview at Joss’ station, all blonde hair and sun-kissed skin, bets were quickly placed as to how long he’d last. Who knew that the surfer dude facade hid a heart of steel?
Miller sat behind his desk and motioned for them to shut the door. “Take a seat.”
“What’s going on, Captain?” Joss asked. Miller picked up a file and handed it over. Fusco leaned in as she opened it.
“Jesus,” he whispered. She’d been a pretty girl dressed for a party; her long hair fanning out on the subway platform where she fell. Her head was turned at an unnatural angle and Joss’ lips tightened as she closed the file.
“When was she found?”
“Around six. The morning commute came to a standstill for a few hours.”
Fusco sat back in his chair. “What are you thinking, Captain?”
“You both caught a case a week ago, young woman, roughly the same age. Right now, it’s just the two.”
Joss shook her head. “Might be building up to something.” She said this matter of fact, her mind already considering angles. “We all know some of the worst comes out when the heat goes up.”
“Captain Bruce Hayward at the 34th is keeping me in the loop on their investigation.” Miller sighed. “I’ve promised to do the same. At the moment, that’s what we have. I wish there was more. Mostly, keep an eye out, maybe work some of your contacts and see if anything pops up.”
The trio talked for a few more minutes before Joss and Fusco left to finish their respective shifts. “You got anything going tonight, Carter?”
Joss gave a little twist of a smile. “Not really. Taylor is off to a party which means it’s just me. What about you?”
Fusco chuckled. “Lee’s out with his friends so it’s me, some take out, and replay of the Mets game.”
“That’s gonna be a lonely night,” Joss teased. Fusco shrugged.
“Man’s gotta be faithful to his team, even if they are perpetually in the bottom of the barrel.”
They finished out the last reports on their desks then grabbed their jackets and started to head out when Joss’ phone rang.
“I’ll catch you tomorrow, Fusco,” Joss called before swiping open her phone. “Carter.”
There was a low chuckle on the other end of the line. “Something about the way you answer the phone is just really sexy.”
“Oh, hey, Zoe.” She looked around to make sure no one else was watching before stepping into an unused interrogation room. “You’re back.”
“I am. What are you still doing at work?”
Joss gave a rueful groan. “Folks have called out, either sick or sick,” she replied with a particular emphasis on the second word. “It’s hot out. It always gets like this. I was just getting off.”
“Nice. Want to join me for a meal?”
The temptation to say no, to go home to an empty house, and brood about tonight’s case was about as appealing as staying long enough for something else to come up at work. She and Zoe were working on this Mate thing slow and steady. A date here, a meeting there. Zoe never pushed, didn’t demand, even though, according to John, her Vampire self might be doing just that.
A sigh on the other end of the line brought Joss out of her reverie. “You’re probably too tired…”
“No,” Joss replied. “I’m not. Where are you?”
“I had the driver drop me off at Buckholt’s on 7th. I’ll leave your name at the door.”
**
“I’m sorry, I don’t seem to see your name on the list.”
Joss briefly considered flashing her badge at the skinny young host who was currently being a pain in her ass. She knew that any other night, when she was dressed to the nines, that he would be singing a different tune. For the sake of not making a scene, and possibly reaching over the host station and snatching his soul, she took a breath and asked,
“Would you mind checking again?”
“Ma’am,” all dripping condensation, “I can assure you that I have checked this thoroughly and I don’t see it.”
“Ronald.”
Joss had to suppress the urge to snap to when she heard the tone of the voice of the older dark haired man who stepped up behind the younger host. She’d heard that tone from many a sergeant during her stint in the Army and she straightened accordingly.
“Sir, I have told this woman that I didn’t see her on the list.”
“Go in back, Ronald. I’ll deal with you later.”
“But…”
Dark brows drew down and he merely stared at the other host until he gathered his things and scurried away. He then turned his attention to her.
“My apologies, Detective Carter. My name is Virgil Aronson and I’d like to welcome you to my establishment. Ms. Morgan asked me to watch out for you.”
Joss merely said, “Oh.”
“If you would follow me this way, please.”
As they made their way through the club, she caught Ronald’s eye and smirked. She then quickened pace to catch up with Virgil as he headed to the tables near the back.
The relative quiet in the room help Joss begin to relax and let go of some of the hurts of the day. When she saw Zoe stand up from her table, something inside of her uncoiled. The Vampire was well turned out in wide-legged pantsuit made of cream colored linen, her blue silk blouse unbuttoned so that the glint of a gold chain showed. Her hair was up, the lingering heat of the day enough to make anyone with a lot of hair either want to cut it off or do what both Zoe and Joss had done, put it up as far as possible. Zoe held out her hands and Joss took them.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey yourself,” Zoe replied with a smile. She gave a light tug, bringing Joss in just close enough so she could place a small kiss on Joss’ cheek before guiding her to a seat. As she sat herself, Zoe hailed a passing waiter and said, “We’ll take our order now.”
Joss slipped out of her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair. “I hang out in the wrong places.”
“How so?”
“Usually when I get off this late, me and Fusco end up at Rhonda’s.” She looked around discreetly at the other patrons. “It’s us, the winos, and the working girls.”
Zoe leaned in and said, “No winos, but there are definitely a few working girls in here right now. They just have different revenue streams.”
Joss smirked. “More power to them.”
They talked for a few minutes until the waiter arrived with a series of small plates and a large tea pot. Zoe took in the skeptical look on Joss’ face and said, “A little food and tea is better than coffee at this hour.”
“I’ve gotten this far on all kinds of caffeine, I’ll have you know.”
One finely arched eye brow reached higher before Zoe poured them both a cup of tea. Joss folded her arms and glared at the woman who would be her mate. Zoe added a dollop of honey and stirred it before sliding it over in front of Joss. She then propped her chin on her hands batting her eyelashes as she did so.
“I will drink the damn tea if you stop doing that.” Joss groused.
“Stop doing what?” Zoe’s tone implied that butter could melt in her mouth and she wouldn’t show it. The corners of her lips twitched as she tried to suppress her smile. Joss’ eyes narrowed.
“That,” she replied, waving a hand at the vampire. “It’s creepy.”
Zoe sat back with a slow grin. “At least it distracted you.”
Joss was about to drink the tea but stopped before it could reach her lips. She put it down her cup. “Did I look that bad when I came in?” she asked.
“I’ve had the same look more times than I’d like to admit. I thought you could use something to take the edge off rather than that swill you call coffee back at the precinct. Or Rhonda’s”
Joss took a sip, impressed by the delicateness of the chamomile. “This is what I needed. Thanks.”
“Want to talk about it?” Zoe sipped her own tea before putting it down and picking up a cucumber sandwich.
“Give me a minute.”
She tried one of the sandwiches, and closed her eyes as the simple fare helped ease the gnawing hunger that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Her pleasure must have shown on her face because she looked up to see Zoe gazing at her over the rim of her own cup.
If it had been anyone else, Joss would have pushed the small meal aside and let the crankiness of the day take over, but this was Zoe. Her mate was, in the best way she knew how, to take care of Joss without making it seem like that was what was happening. She sat back a little in her chair, rubbed her chin then sighed.
“I’ve had a very long day.”
Zoe put down her own cup, and nodded at Joss to continue.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had someone I…cared about,” Joss said, “to talk to. There’s going to be silences about some of my work and a part of me doesn’t want to bring you into it.”
Zoe looked down at Joss’ hand on the table then slid her hand over it. It said something that Joss no longer flinched when they touched. Her vampire thrilled at the trust the other woman put in her.
“There’s always going to be things that neither of us can share,” Zoe said as she studied Joss’ hand. “Things about the work I do, some of my clients; those are things that you don’t need to know about. That is, unless I think you need to.”
Joss took the words in, considering the implications. In many ways, her being a vampire was a lower priority than the fact that sometimes Zoe’s work meant that she had to get…creative. Not enough to garner notice from the higher ups, although Joss was sure that a few of them had engaged her services at some point or another which meant they looked the other way. But this was part of it, wasn’t it? Becoming mates, trusting one another.
“I’ve got a murder on my plate. Second body in a month. There might be more.” Joss licked her lips then looked at Zoe. ‘We’re going to start checking in with the other precincts.”
“Jesus,” Zoe whispered.
“Cases like this come up a lot, and I was a little surprised that I didn’t…” she stopped herself before she made mention of the Man in the Suit, although she definitely wondered why she hadn’t caught this particular case before now.
“Didn’t what?”
“Hear about it,” Joss recovered. “Something like this would usually make the news.”
“Not everything makes the news, love. You and I both know this. In some cases it’s for a particular reason.”
Joss’ in-drawn breath and sharpened gaze would make a lesser person flinch. Zoe kept her gaze steady on her mate.
“I’m not saying there’s something larger at play but as you start digging into this, think bigger picture. Who wants what.”
“Who benefits.” Joss’ tone was hard. Zoe gave a short nod.
“Exactly.”
She didn’t this far in her career to go off half cocked. Joss picked up her tea cup again and took a sip. If anything, the flavor had deepened.
They both contented themselves with small talk until they’d finished the tea and small snacks that had arrived over the course of their conversation.
“Can I take you home?” Joss asked when the got up after Zoe settled the bill. She rolled her eyes when she saw the briefly wicked look steal over Zoe’s face. “A ride, Morgan. Just a ride.”
“There’s ride and then there’s ride, Carter,” Zoe replied with a slight twist of her lips. “I’m content with you dropping me at my place.” She settled her coat over her shoulders then slipped her arm in Joss’. It should have felt weird but it didn’t; Joss moved her arm so the vampire’s fell a little more naturally in the crook of her own.
“Content, hmm? For how long?”
They stepped out into the late New York evening and Zoe stopped, raised her fingers to lightly rest on Joss’ cheek. “As long as it takes. You’re worth that to me.”
**
Zoe waved as Joss pulled away from the curb and drove down the street towards her own home then climbed the brownstone steps to her own apartment. her tossed her coat on a nearby divan along with her overnight bag and the heels came off on the way to the kitchen.
A bag of blood from her refrigerator was quickly dumped into a mug then into a microwave to warm.
Washington was a revelation as always. The seat of the government and power players on every corner. It made Zoe truly appreciate New York City. Nothing said pathetic as a government official on the come-up.
Pulling her cup from the microwave, Zoe took a grateful sip and moved back into the living room.
She thought about the young woman she encountered on her trip, a young woman much like herself – a fixer. A very adept one. Someone Zoe would keep her eye out for. You never know when you’d need a hand in a certain area.
Her thoughts turned back to Joss. Her Mate had much on her mind and it showed.
She’d never seen herself as a cop’s wife. And yet the universe had seen fit to grant her a Mate of that particular stripe. John had laughed at her and said, “I can’t wait to see Carter’s face.”
A low chuckle and she whispered into the quiet, “Be careful what you wish for.”
**
1 week later
Shantelle DuBois delicately balanced the shopping bag on the ground before slipping off her flat and wriggling her toes in relief. It never failed: she’d change into more comfortable footwear after a long night and her feet would still remind her that she’d been in 6 inch platforms for most of it. Never mind that she didn’t walk that much; pole dancing didn’t call for it but flat feet and no arch support equaled a bit of pain no matter what.
Still, the late hour meant she was able to get groceries from that one all-night bodega near the club before she caught her train which meant she didn’t have to go back out until it was time to head back to work that night. She’d have time to make Sissy a little breakfast before sending her off to school and falling into bed herself for some well earned rest.
Shantelle smiled a little as she slipped her shoe back on and gathered up her bag. Sissy was smart as a whip and in the running to get into Stuyvesant. Once her teachers figured out that her kid was into learning, and that they had Shantelle’s buy in, they began to subtly guide her into harder subjects that played to her strengths. With luck, the school lottery gods would shine down and Sissy would be on her way. And if it did, then life would have change. Maybe a new job. Something that Sissy could look at with some pride.
She looked towards the horizon, and as the first fingers of sunlight started to peer around the edges of the buildings, she heard something. A step. No, more like, half step. Tentative. Attuned as she was to the sounds of the city she’d grown up in, Shantelle was no fool. She dropped her right hand into her pocket and palmed the can of high powered pepper spray that she kept for emergencies while the fingers of her left tightened on the grocery bag handles. Long-ago self defense training strategies flitted through her head, the strongest being, “Hit and run. Get away.”
Another step, the scrape of a shoe on pavement and she picked up her own pace slightly, tension squaring her shoulders. Headed for the intersection, eyes straight. A few more steps behind her and she whirled around, pepper spray at the ready. But there was not one.
“Shit,” she spoke out loud with a shaky laugh. “Now I know I’m too tired to be out here. Hearing things.”
When she turned to go, Shantelle only had a brief second to register the maniacal grin of the thing standing in front of her before the pain began.
**
Joss considered the body that had been neatly propped up on the brownstone’s stoop. But for the deep bruising and the smears of blood that splashed from her neck to her belly, Shantelle DuBois looked as though she’d decided to sit down and take a few minutes to rest. Her shoulder bag and a small grocery bag had been placed next to her. Dawn rendered her in full relief; tightly curled hair up in a bun, her dark skin ashy in death.
Squatting carefully, Joss reached out with one gloved hand and gently closed the other woman’s eyes. Something about the way she’d been staged angered Joss on a fundamental level. Not that violent death was every good but this staging? The grocery bag, her purse untouched. The way her hands had been tucked demurely in her lap. It was a mockery.
She got back to her feet just as Fusco walked up with a uniform.
“This is Officer DiPiro. It’s his beat.”
Joss turned her attention to the older, beefy white cop standing next to her partner. Something unreadable on his face caught at her. “Officer DiPiro, do you know the victim?”
Fusco nodded at her and walked off to start organizing the other uniforms into a canvas.
DiPiro pulled his hat off, scratched his head a little before putting it back on. “Yeah, I know her. I’ve been posted over her for a while. Community policing and all that. Name’s Shantelle DuBois. Lives a couple of blocks from here.” His voice sounded resigned.
Joss pulled out her note book and started to write it all down. “What else can you tell me about her?” she asked.
He folded his arms and blew out a breath. “I don’t wanna speak ill of the dead.”
Something must have shown on Joss’ face because DiPiro caught it. “Okay, listen, it’s not like that. She was a working girl but she wasn’t hooking or anything like that. She dances…danced over at Pure Essence. Private place, over in midtown.”
Joss kept writing. “She ever have any problems that you know of?”
DiPiro shook his head. “Nah. As far as I know, it’s a clean place. Customers keep their hands off the girls. Shantelle got a good schedule so she could have time to get home before her kid had to go to school.”
The mention of a child made Joss look up from her notes. “Damn it,” she said lowly. DiPiro nodded.
“Yeah, this is messed up. Kid’s real smart. She’s was going to try for Stuyvesant in the next lottery.”
“And she was gonna do right by her baby girl, wasn’t she?” Joss observed. “Maybe quit, do something else?”
DiPiro’s mouth worked as he tried not to show just how upset he was. “Yeah,” he replied huskily. “She was.”
They talked for a few more minutes before Joss said, “I appreciate this.” She held up her notebook. “All of it. If you remember anything else or something else comes up, give me a call.” She stashed the notebook before pulling out a business card and handing it to him.
DiPiro looked at it. “You’re a murder cop, right, Detective?”
Joss nodded. “I am.”
“Rumor has it, this isn’t the first time this has happened. I mean, like this.”
She cursed the blue grapevine that was part of every city and town with a police force. “No. There’s not a lot I can tell you but it’s not.”
DiPiro looked at her then, watery blue eyes hard. “You need help, you let me know.” He held out his hand.
Joss didn’t always get on with some of the old timers, regardless of borough. Even more so after dealing with HR. But there were things that transcended all of the other bullshit. Things that didn’t sit well even after several beers at any number of cop bars in the city. She’d never say no to actual help.
Reaching out, she shook DiPiro’s hand. “Thanks. You’ll hear from me if I do.”
He gave her hand a light squeeze before letting go and walking away, nodding at Fusco as he passed. “Looked intense.”
“It was.” She looked around at the neighborhood that was ground zero for this early morning crime scene. The ongoing shift in the area’s fortunes was evident by the composition of the onlookers on the other side of the yellow tap. A once-tightly knit working class neighborhood transforming into another higher priced haven with fewer eyes that actually saw anything of use. It wouldn’t surprise Joss at all if Shantelle and her daughter lived in one of the remaining rent controlled building in the area.
Fusco wore a slight frown. “I’m not liking this, Carter.”
“Neither am I,” Joss agreed. She leaned in close. “No rhyme or reason. No actual type preference.”
“Canvas is going. Maybe we’ll get something. I think your new best friend, DiPiro is going to shake a few trees as well,” Fusco observed.
“I am not going to say no to that.” Joss worked her shoulders a little, hoping the tension that was sitting there would recede. “Once the canvas is done, let’s head back and put it with everything else we’ve already got. There’s got to be a pattern somewhere.”
“I hear you.”
As they spoke, some second sense of Joss’ kicked in and she knew, without a doubt, that they were being watched. Fusco picked up on the her sudden hyper-vigilance.
“Carter?”
“We’ve got eyes on us and it’s not just the lookie-loos.”
Lionel had worked with Joss long enough to read some of her moves. He pulled up his notebook and dropped his voice down. “Don’t see nothing.”
“Me either…wait,” Joss saw someone move from the back of the crowd and head towards a nearby intersection. That walk, the long denim clad legs, the jacket. “Shit.”
Fusco’s free hand dropped to his gun but Joss stayed his hand. “Cover for me. This may not take long.”
“Be careful,” he hissed.
Joss walked fast enough to dip under the tape, weave her way through the crowd, her eyes never leaving her quarry. He must have known that she’d follow because he stopped and took a step to the left to the opening of a nearby alley.
She slowed, hand on the butt of her weapon. “Let me see your hands,” she called out.
“Understood,” came the deep voiced response.
Anthony Marconi turned with his hands raised, but Joss was not foolish enough to think that he was actually unarmed or couldn’t get to whatever the weapon he was carrying was. Elias’ most trusted right hand was dressed in his characteristic all black, the scar that gave him his nickname standing out against his skin. He stood at ease and his eyes flicked to her hand on her gun.
“Smart,” he said. Joss rolled her eyes.
“As much as I appreciate the compliment on my weapons training, Marconi, I know you’re not here for that.”
“True enough.”
“Well?”
Marconi nodded back at the crime scene. “Heard about it. I was in the neighborhood.”
Joss bit back a curse. She didn’t have time or patience for any bullshit at the moment but it also wouldn’t help her to antagonize the man before her. For whatever reason that only made sense to him, Elias liked her. The don was a cursed blessing, one that she tried not to think about too hard. By extension, Marconi tolerated his boss’ interest. They kept their business out of the papers and their names out of people’s mouths. The right palms were greased and the world went on as usual.
She straightened, her eyes never leaving him. “Unless you’ve got something to offer, I suggest you get on home. Dangerous out here.”
He smirked at her chiding tone, gave her a two fingered salute. “I’ll give the boss your regards,” he said and went on his way.
“You do that,” Joss said to his retreating back just as the sun slipped from behind a building and washed her with its morning light.
End Part 1.
Love where this story is going! These are such great characters and love that they are getting storyline.
Wow can’t wait for more of this story! Great start!
This is already an interesting story. It caught me right away. Looking forward to reading more. Thanks for sharing it, ladyjax.
More, please?
—-Naj 😀 ❤❤