The Street Corner Killer

Chapter 4

Riley was excited to go home - scrap that, she was ecstatic. She was exhausted after a day of asking questions, doing research and filing reports, and couldn't wait to flop down on her couch with a pot noodle and maybe watch a game.

Her apartment was on the second floor of a new apartment block in downtown Brooklyn, and she gazed around the hallway before approaching her door.

It was white, with marble tiled floors, clean walls, and a table at the far end with flowers that a neighbour had put out a few weeks back. A total of 4 apartments on each floor made the it always quiet and pleasant, making it ideal for Riley, who more than occasionally worked after hours at home.

Her apartment, much like the hallway, was white and airy. It had big windows, decently sized rooms, and more than enough space for just herself. It outstripped any normal cop's budget, but her father had bought it, despite her protests, when she first came out here, and he was a programmer in D.C. He had millions bouncing around in his accounts.

Though she done her best to keep it clean and in check, she had realised very quickly that her parents weren't going to bother visiting often, which suited her just fine. With 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and an open plan living area, it was something an average 30 year-old could never afford. She knew she was lucky.

Approaching her door, she pulled out her key from her purse, before she paused. Was that voices coming from inside? Yes, it was.

She frowned as a cheer rang out. It didn't sound like burglers would be watching a soccer match. All the same, she pulled out her weapon, and managing to unlock the door with one hand, she pushed it open.

"NYPD! Stay right where you are!" She scanned the room.

"Woah! Brooke! That's so cool!" A mans voice came from the couch. Sighing, she put her gun back in it's holster, as two men stood up to pull her into a hug.

They were identical, with black hair and blue eyes like her, but they were older and dressed smartly in suits. They were her twin brothers, Jake and Felix. Both lawyers, they hopped around the country, and showed up whenever it see fit. They also gave very tight hugs, and almost suffocated her before she managed to pulled away, laughing.

"What are you doing here? Did Dad give you the key?"

"Yeah, we were in New York so we thought we'd drop by," Felix replied.

Glancing around the room, she saw 2 suitcases by the floor to ceiling window.

"By drop by to you mean stay over?"

"Hey, you've got a guest room. Get out the camp bed and we'll be fine," Jake said.

"No, no, no. I'm in the middle of the case I don't have time-"

"We also came to ask you to come home for Maman's birthday," Jake interrupted.

"Back to Washington?" She froze. She hadn't been back there in months.

She and the rest of her family were very different, and her parents had never really understood why. Imagine having two of your children earning thousands a year being lawyers, another working as a fashion designer in Paris, and then one a New York detective? Sometimes she felt like the family outcast. When she left for New York she had decided to prefe, sending birthday cards and emails instead of getting a plane ticket.

"Yeah, she's turning 60, you know. The whole family's going to be there,"

"Even Lucy?" Lucy was her even-older sister, who was somewhere in Paris with her husband and daughters.

"Lucy, the cousins, the whole sha-bang." Felix smiled.

"When?"

"Next week,"

"I don't know... This case is a tough one, could take ages,"

"Can't you just leave your job for a week?" Jake gave her an annoyed look. "You live for the work, who knows when you last had a holiday?"

"My job is important to me!"

Felix shook his head. "No, your job is everything to you. That's not good, Brookie,"

There was a pause, as Brooke contemplated her options. All she wanted was something to eat, not a family dilemma.

"Just unpack your stuff already,"

---

That night Riley didn't sleep. Despite feeling exhausted the day before, she just couldn't rest. First it was too hot, then too cold. Then she had a headache, then a stomach ache. At some point, she glanced over at the clock. 3:08am. Great, the witching hour. Not that she believed in that stuff, but during the night, anything seemed possible. She remembered when she was younger, back in her house in D.C. It was always dark at night, and when she couldn't sleep, her Mom would come and read to her. It helped, but she only read classics, so Riley stopped complaining about insomnia when her Maman started reading Watership Down.

She thought about her brothers in the room next door. They had nothing to worry about, only which shirt they would wear in the morning. She had a murder to solve.

Her train of thought was interupted by her phone beginning to ring on her bedside table. She scrambled to answer it, hoping something, anything.

"Riley," She answered.

"Brooke?" It was Bishop, and he sounded panicked.

"John? What is it?" She was sitting up now, pulling on the nearest shoes, that happened to be a pair of uggs. Something told her she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep tonight.

"I'm in my car, we've got another woman sliced twice in the throat."

"You're thinking it's The Street Corner Killer?" She asked, using the nickname the precinct has christened him with.

"Yeah, I'm trying to-"

"Wait, who's the victim?"

"Gianna Elizabeth, 26, found in Brooklyn."

"I'm on my way, where's the crime scene?"

"There is no crime scene, Riley, I'm on my way to General."

"What?"

"Gianna's still alive."

Riley froze. "I'll be there in 20,"

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