In the gritty streets of Chicago, Katie finds herself at a crossroads, torn between her tumultuous past and an uncertain future. Escaping an abusive relationship, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery, determined to carve out a new path for her...
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"Ross McCadden. Six years on the job," Burgess informs us as we stand in the hospital corridor, peering down at the lifeless body sprawled on the ground.
"He was my homeroom instructor at the academy," Adam gestures to himself, his voice heavy with emotion. "We were really good friends. I just... talked to him." His gaze lingers on the body, and I offer a comforting touch to his arm. "Has somebody told Jenny? Has his wife been notified, or—"
"Yeah," Roman interjects. "Street deputy and peer support team went to their house." He nods solemnly, his eyes betraying the weight of the situation, as Adam moves around to the other side of the body and lifts the sheet, revealing Ross's face. I find myself simply staring, speechless in the face of such tragedy.
"Lewellen?" Alvin inquires, his voice cutting through the somber atmosphere.
"Uh, yeah," Roman replies, leading us into the hospital room where Ross had been stationed. "The fire alarm was pulled right around the time of death. A security guard spotted a guy wearing a hoodie and a ball cap walking away."
"What condition was Lewellen in?" Al asks, his eyes fixed on the figure lying motionless on the hospital bed. "Was he out of the coma?"
"Yeah, he was responsive, talking to doctors," Roman confirms.
"Where's the security room?" Antonio's voice breaks the silence, drawing our attention.
"I'll take you to it," Sean offers, leading Antonio and me out of the room and into a small chamber filled with computer monitors. He plays back the footage, and we watch in horror as Ross is caught off guard, shot in the head by an assailant who approaches from behind.
"He never saw it coming," I murmur, shaking my head in disbelief.
"Horrible. Just horrible," the security guard remarks, his voice filled with a mixture of shock and sorrow. There are no words to adequately describe the scene unfolding before us. The shooter, obscured by a ball cap and hoodie, disappears into the hospital room, fires two shots at Lewellen, and then vanishes once more.
"Can you freeze that image?" Antonio requests, his tone firm.
"Yeah, that's it," the guard confirms, freezing the frame on the screen. The shooter's face remains mostly hidden from view.
"All right, print that out," Antonio orders, despite the limited evidence.
"Not a lot to go on, sorry," the guard apologizes, as he begins to print the image.
"We've started with less," Antonio reassures him, just as Adam enters the room.
"Hey," Adam greets, his voice tinged with sadness. "Voight wants everybody to meet at the district in two hours."
*
"All right, you all remember Detective Rollins, New York Special Victims," Voight announces, gesturing towards the blonde woman who had caught Adam's eye last time she was here. "This is Detective Amaro," he continues, indicating the man accompanying her. "They have full jurisdictional powers here, and together we're gonna end this." With a determined nod, he strides up to the board, his presence commanding attention.
