Marked For Murder

Chapter Three

     Charlie  parked her car in the first open spot she could find. After gathering her stuff and securing her Beretta in its holster, she jumped out, slamming the door shut.

     She hurried towards the building that stood some distance away from the parking lot. Even though getting involved in this case would temporarily halt her transfer to the SFPD, she wasn't worried.

     Whether it was the high-end, marble-floored stations of San Francisco, with their slick Fords, or the squat building with its paint peeling off that sat in front of her, Charlie was content with the fact that she still got to save peoples lives.

     Reaching the front doors, she pushed them back and stepped into the Brownlee police station. The receptionist, a thirty something year old with more than her fair share of wrinkles looked up.

     With the frowning countenance with which she regarded Charlie, she obviously wasn't thrilled with the sudden hyperactive buzz the station had taken on.

   "Good morning," she said as she fumbled for her ID in her wallet. Flashing the plastic card in front of the woman's face, she stated its content, just in case she had some eye trouble. "Officer Charlie. Here to see the Lieutenant."

   "You're the trouble maker?" she mumbled under her breath, silent enough Charlie almost missed it. Almost. "The corporal said to give you this." She handed her a new ID, one that indicated her position on the investigation team. "Also said to swing by his office before you go up. Lieutenant and the rest are on the third floor."

   "Thanks," she said as she rushed off to catch the lift.

     On the way up, she fingered the new ID that hung around her neck. Examining the picture she'd taken on her first day of the job, she wondered what had happened to the excitement that you could see, radiating in her eyes.

     Maybe years of doing nothing but issuing tickets was enough to kill the zeal of even the most passionate officer. But not anymore.

     Now she had a purpose in Brownlee, and even though something in her head told her she wasn't thinking everything through as she ought to, like the sudden withdrawal of her resignation, she didn't care. She was going to plunge into this case head first.

     When the elevator stopped at the second floor, she got out and rushed past the brown, wooden doors that lined either side of the second floor's corridor.  She made her way to the door at the end of the hallway that had 'Carl Murphy' printed in bold letters on the front.

     As she opened the door, the smell of greasy take out and old papers, rotting away in file cabinets welcomed her. She had grown so used to the chaos that was a constant part of Carl's office, she had no problems finding an adequate corner to sit.

     Carl, a big and burly man with a balding spot at the top of his head and a bushy mustache, looked up from his desk to address the young officer. Whenever she looked at him, he reminded her of her father, with his round comical face and deep laugh.

   "Charlie," he said as he looked her over, "good to have you back."

   "Good to be back Carl." When Miss grumps downstairs had told her Carl wanted to see her, she could only come up with negative situations. Now, he seemed quite cheerful. Maybe he'd just wanted to welcome her. No big deal.

   "I won't waste your time Charlotte." The use of her full name quickly put her on edge again.

   "The Lieutenant's already in his office, waiting for y'all. Just wanted to tell you to be careful out there."