Crime (h.s. au)

Chapter Two

Ava

"Just take a look at the fracture on the mandible. Possible blunt force trauma," I tell the coroner, his fingers moving along the ridge.

"It's clear there is trauma. But I don't think it's the cause of death," John tell me, and I purse my lips. I'm not at all claiming it is, but it is definitely a possibility there is more to the story.

"A few fracture ribs as well," I observe, and I move observe the body from the feet. I take in the sight and look over the barely decomposed body. It was found in the backyard in a shallow grave. No more than a few days old in its post-mortem stage.

"There are no bullet wounds visible. No signs of sexual assault from the rape kit performed. Have we received word in regard to blood tests?" I wonder, and he shakes his head.

"Not until tomorrow. Dental records should arrive shortly after," he elaborates, and I move the feet to observe them. It's a tedious process in an autopsy and I've done a lot of work alongside John. He'd taught me a lot and he has told me he sees me as a partner, rather than an assistant. It's quite an honor, but I've chosen to stay humble about it.

As I look over each part of the foot, something catches my eye. A small hole; barely larger than that of a dot of a pencil.

"John," I say, his eyes looking at me. I nod to the sight and he looks at it, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Injection sight," I state, his head nodding.

"Absolutely. The blood work will give us answers on this. This is more than likely the lead on what the cause is," he tells me, removing his gloves. He pushes the body back into its storage and I remove my gloves.

"All set for the day. Thank you for your help," he tells me, and I shake his hand. I wash my hands and remove my protective jacket and shoe covers, walking out of the room.

"Lieutenant," a man nods, my head nodding to him. Many people just acknowledge me and go about their day; it's all they need to do. It hadn't occurred to me that perhaps these people are trying to make themselves look good to me. If there's one thing about my job, it is that people do tend to feel intimidated by me and my position.

I get into my car and replace my shoes, putting my heels back on. My hands grab my brush and I pull my hair into a high ponytail, making sure it's perfect to the eyes. After I reapply lipstick, I make my way back to the station and enter the building.

"Lieutenant, a word?" Chief Vincent calls, and I make my way over. I glance through the workers and take my focus back to the chief.

"Detective Styles dropped this on my desk this morning. It's worth a look," he tells me, and I nod. He questions me about the autopsy and I tell him it's still inconclusive at the moment. It is not in protocol to give away unsolicited information until the cause of death is officially given out by the coroner.

Once in my office, I take a seat and log into my computer. Flooded with emails, I review a few before taking a look at the files recently handed to me.

I had done my research on finding a new detective for our station. We outsource to West Manhattan for a few higher up positions, but we needed one on our team here at the central station.

When I had stumbled upon many homicide cases that had been worked on in the past, I was looking through those who worked on the cases. Harry Styles was the name I continued to see over and over again, so I made a few phone calls. I linked with numerous people who worked with him and I did everything I could to convince those in New York to allow me to have him here.

When I introduced the idea of it being a promotion for Detective Styles, they had placed consideration to the idea. I exercised due care in how I went about moving him to the force here, so I used my skills as a detective to question their every decision.