UNSEEN MURDER

STRIKE ONE

The precinct conference room reeked of burnt coffee and tension. The fight hadn’t even cooled before word spread like wildfire Detective Jude Maddox lost control of his team at a crime scene.

Captain Reeves sat at the head of the table, her hands folded tightly, and face grim. Across from her, Jude, Ramirez, Trent, and Sloane sat in stiff silence, each wearing the aftermath of their clash, swollen knuckles, cut lips, bruised egos.

“Do you three have any idea what kind of circus you made out there?” Reeves’ voice cracked like a whip. “Cameras caught the whole damn thing. A federal case, a serial murderer breathing down our necks, and what do we give the press? A brawl in the mud like schoolyard bullies.”

Sloane opened her mouth. Reeves cut her a look sharp enough to slit throats. “Not a word from you, Miss Calloway. You’re not law enforcement, you’re barely tolerated here.” Sloane leaned back, lips twitching. She loved every second of this.

Reeves turned on Jude. “And you. You’re the senior detective. That makes this your responsibility.”

Jude clenched his jaw. “Captain, I tried.....”

“You didn’t try hard enough,” Reeves snapped. “Trent is a federal liaison, Ramirez is your partner, and Sloane is you’re… whatever the hell she is. The point is: you let it escalate. You should’ve shut it down before fists flew.”

Trent shifted in his chair, smirking faintly. Jude wanted to punch him all over again.

Reeves slapped a folder onto the table. “Here’s the deal, Maddox. One more incident like this, one more, and I pull you off this case. Badge or no badge. You’ll be on desk duty before the blood on Halstrom’s body is dry. Understood?”

The words landed like shackles. Jude nodded stiffly. “Understood.”

Reeves’ eyes burned into him a moment longer, then she dismissed them with a wave. “Now get out of my sight and do your damn jobs. Find the Fox before the city lynches us

All.”

The four of them filed out in brittle silence.

In the hallway, Sloane fell into step beside Jude, voice low and sing song. “Strike one, Detective.”

Jude shot her a look that could peel paint. “Keep pushing, Calloway, and I’ll make sure you’re the one off this case.”

She only smiled, eyes bright with cruel amusement. “Oh no, you won’t. Because deep down, you need me.”

Her words echoed long after she disappeared down the corridor.

The elevator doors hadn’t even closed before Jude spun on Sloane.

“You think this is all about you?” he snapped, his voice bouncing off the sterile walls. “You’re a good-for-nothing, Calloway. A parasite. You’ve been nothing but a thief, a con, and now a distraction. Useless. Dead weight. If you weren’t hanging around this case like a leech, maybe we’d actually be getting somewhere.”

The words rang out, cruel and sharp, and even Ramirez flinched.

Sloane froze. For a heartbeat, her usual armor, the smirk, the biting sarcasm flickered. Her jaw clenched hard, but her eyes betrayed her. Glossy, burning, as if holding back tears she’d rather die than let him see.

Her lips parted, a retort trembling on her tongue. But instead of fire, only a broken whisper came:

“You…”

She shut her mouth, swallowed hard, and shook her head.

For once, there was no clever comeback, no venom. Just silence, raw and suffocating. She grabbed her coat with jerky movements, shoved Ramirez’s hand away when he tried to reach her, and stormed out before anyone could see her break.

The door slammed behind her, leaving Jude staring at the empty space she’d left, his own chest heaving with rage he couldn’t explain.

Perfect — let’s follow Sloane/Calloway right after she storms out, to really show her emotional break and how she processes Jude’s words.

The hallway outside the conference room felt colder than it should. Sloane’s boots echoed against the tile as she strode fast, shoulders stiff, jaw locked. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry in front of them.

She pushed through the glass doors and out into the stairwell, slamming them behind her. The silence of the empty stairwell swallowed her whole. For a moment she stood there, gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles blanched.

“Useless,” she muttered under her breath, the word tasting like poison.

Her chest heaved as the dam inside her finally cracked. She blinked hard, but the tears still pricked at the corners of her eyes. She pressed the heel of her palm against them furiously, like she could scrub Jude’s words off her skin.

He hated her, she knew that. But hearing it spoken out loud, spat like venom, carved deeper than she’d expected.

“You’re not useless,” she whispered to herself, as if saying it enough might make it true.

She slid down the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. For just a few minutes, she let herself break in the shadows where no one could see. The smirk, the sharp tongue, the armor, all stripped away. Just Sloane Calloway, the girl who’d spent her whole life clawing for scraps of dignity, now being torn apart by a man who was supposed to be on her side.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her back. She didn’t even check the screen before silencing it. She couldn’t deal with Trent’s suspicions or Ramirez’s pity right now.

Instead, she drew in a shaky breath, shoved herself back onto her feet, and wiped her face. By the time she opened the stairwell door again, the mask was back in place. Sharp. Untouchable.

But inside, Jude’s words still echoed like a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

The slam of the door echoed long after she was gone.

Jude stood there, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. His words still hung in the air, ugly, venomous, impossible to take back. He’d called her useless. A thief. Good......for......nothing.

Ramiz broke the silence first. “What the hell was that, Jude?”

Jude didn’t answer. He turned away, gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white.

“You don’t get it” he muttered finally, low but sharp. “She thinks this is a game. People are dying, and she mocks us every damn step of the way.”

Ramiz crossed his arms, his voice steady but firm. “That wasn’t mockery you just saw. That was hurt. You went too far.”

Jude spun around, anger flashing again, though it looked thinner now hollow. “She undermines me every chance she gets. Always acting like she knows better. Like she’s.....” He stopped himself, the words choking in his throat.

Trent, who had been silent until now, leaned forward with that ever calm voice of his. “You sound like a man who’s losing control. And if you lose control again, they’ll pull you off this case. You know it, I know it, everyone here knows it.”

The reminder hit hard. The Captain had already warned him once another outburst like this and his badge would be on the line.

Jude dragged a hand down his face. The rage had burned out, leaving behind something heavier. Guilt. He hated her hated how she pushed, prodded, forced her way into his space. But the look on her face when he’d said those words…it hadn’t been defiance. It had been something else. Something that made his chest feel like stone.

Ramiz shook his head. “Find her. Fix it. Or don’t, but don’t think this case is going to wait for you to sort your feelings.”

Jude didn’t reply. He just stared at the closed door, the echo of her storming out replaying in his head, louder than all the chaos outside.

For the first time since this case began, he wondered if maybe he was the one spiraling not her.