I'm exhausted. Ten straight days of double shifts with no end in sight. We have two dead women identified as known prostitutes and I'm worried there will be more. Standing from my desk, I stretch and try to alleviate the pain in my middle back from writing this damned report for more than three hours. My joints pop as I bend. I'm getting too old for this and I'm only thirty-two.
If anyone told me when I signed up to catch bad guys that being a cop consisted of eighty percent report writing, ten percent putting up with political bullshit, and ten percent catching bad guys, I would have decided on tree trimming. I come from a long line of men in law enforcement and they omitted a few details about this job.
I stare down at the words in my report from my standing position.
Victim: Maddy Hi
