Chapter 5 : Finding The Stars

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Fetcher's cellphone rang.

"Hold up a second."  He told his son and his partner before he went to the living room to take the call.  

"And?" Chase took a diced beef into her mouth, cocked her head, looking over at Cam. 

"They will fall for each other in-" 

"Bullshit!" Chase didn't even let the kid finish the sentence.  

That idea only appeared on TV.  This was just ridiculous.  She fell for Fetcher?  Fetcher fell for her?  Yeah.  Pigs could fly. 

"Can't resist the urge of talking about shits on dining table, can you?" Fetcher walked back to the kitchen, "Whatever you two were bonding about, I have better news!" 

Chase forked a diced of beef from Fetcher's plate, "Care to tell me?" Fetcher glared at her, she added, "This is really good." 

Cam giggled.  He liked Chase' jokes and her pissed-Fetcher-off personality. 

"The bombing case, we handed that case to FBI and CIA.  Homeland Department will handle it." 

"Thank God!" Cam stood up and walked to give his dad a hug, "I was so worried about you being on this case." 

Chase murmured, "What a sweet kid."  She finished eating the soup, suddenly realizing something, "How about the victims and the injures." 

"Let CSI worry about that." Fetcher said, collecting the dishes, "We're homicide."

*****

It felt like only twenty minutes between Chase arriving at her apartment and Fetcher banging on her apartment door.  The bangs of the door were loud and scary.  Chase took her pistol out of the nightstand and braced herself to check the door. 

"Put the gun down!" Fetcher yelled, "It's just me.  Go dress up.  We've got a case."  He walked into the apartment without permission, "Five minutes!" 

Chase went back to her bedroom.  The alarm clock said 5:07.  She put on a blazer over her blue blouse and then put on a pair of black pants.  She tucked her hair into a ponytail and then went out with Fetcher.

*****

"It's a body dump!" Bill Tyler, a CSI yelled as Chase got off the car at California State Route 187.   Bill flipped open a black crocodile-patterned purse, "Marilyn Jane Kennterson.  4815 Locust Court.  37 years old." 

Chase patted on his back to say thanks as she followed Fetcher going near to the body. 

"C.O.D.?" Fetcher asked. 

"Well...it's a brutal murder.  There are multiple fatal stab wounds on her body.  There is also a strangle mark on her neck.  And..." Doctor Cedric turned the body, "You see these?" he pointed at multiple small holes on victim's scalpless head.  "The hair was torn off with a great force when the victim was still alive."  The doctor held up the victim's wrists, "She struggled hard.  There are bruises on her wrist.  There are many scratches on her limbs."

Fetcher shook his head, "Who would do such a thing to a person?" 

Chase sighed.  This really didn't look good.  "Probably we should use 'what' instead of 'who' since I consider only a creature can do this." 

"And extremely sick creature." 

Chase heard a familiar voice and turned around, "Gary!"  She broke into a smile, "Good morning!" 

"Maybe you haven't considered that he," Fetcher nodded toward Garrett, "Is a suspect as well." 

Garrett stared at Fetcher. 

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