Tomorrow Is Never Promised

October 2021 Ethan  The sound of my phone ringing woke me up out of a dead sleep. I groaned and took a look at my watch, noticing that it's one in the morning. Another murder. I grab my phone off the nightstand and answer it, holding it lazily up to my ear. "This is Detective Beck." I answered sleepily. "Beck, we got a case." I heard the usual gruff tone of Detective Shaw, my supervisor come over the line. "Where?" "Ankeny Plaza." That roused me a little more, causing me to sit upright. Two victims, same location, in the span of two weeks. What were the odds? “Skidmore Fountain?” I pressed further. “Yep. Get your ass down here.” He clipped. "I'm on my way." I ended the call and threw my blankets back. I opened the dresser drawer where my boxers were usually kept, but I came up empty handed. I glanced over at the laundry basket full of clean clothes that I needed to fold and crossed over to it. I snatched a fresh pair of underwear, a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt out of the basket, making a note to fold my damn laundry. Work took up most of my life, and I had a stack of cases on my desk. Some of them are on the verge of going unsolved, which didn't set well with me. I didn't like the idea of going home and leaving all those murder cases just sitting there. Back in Boston, I was one of the best homicide detectives in the twenty-third precinct. I knew the streets, knew the people. Out here, I felt like a shiny new detective straight out of training. In other words, I felt like I didn’t know s**t. I went into the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth. Then I swooped my hair back with some clay before grabbing my jacket and keys, and heading out the door. The crime scene was about a mile from my loft in the adjacent neighborhood of Old Town, an area known for its homelessness and overall seedier vibe at this time of night. I parked my car behind Detective Shaw's and stepped out into the light drizzle that always seemed to fall from the sky this time of year. I approached the police line and flashed my badge, one of the officers gave me a nod and lifted the tape up for me so I could duck underneath. I grunted a “thanks” and continued my trek down the cobblestone street. I spotted Detective Shaw off to the left, talking to a black and a white, and made my way over to him. Sully Shaw was a middle-aged man, with a slight beer gut, graying hair, and a temperament that most would describe as “dickish”. I didn’t care though, Sully was a good guy in my book. Loyal to the very end. “Ethan.” Sully turned to me and extended a coffee outward. “Oh god, I could kiss you right now.” I graciously grabbed the paper cup from his hand and took a long drink. “Yeah, the misses might have a problem with that though.” He gave me an amused expression. “Trudy loves me.” I replied with an impish grin. “That she does. Keeps asking when you're going to come over for dinner again.” He began walking towards a team of forensics who were examining the scene. A pang of guilt hit me there. Trudy was the typical mother hen, always fussing over her kids and grandkids. When she found out my mom died when I was a teenager, no thanks to Sully, she made it her life’s mission to include me at dinners. It was almost odd, bringing out a sense of longing in me that I hadn’t felt since after my own mom died. "I know, I'm sorry." I shot him an apologetic look, which he waved off. "Don't worry about it. I was a young detective once, married to the job. She gets it." I nodded in agreement. I was married to the job, and that was okay by me. I didn’t have anyone to go home to, didn’t really have any friends, well except for Sully. I liked having my own space, and I liked not being bothered all the time. Don't get me wrong, I miss home every now and then. Missed Abby too and her little family she formed. However, I had my reasons for leaving Boston. Focus on the case. I took a deep breath and approached the crime scene, which was centered around a large fountain in the square. The fountain itself was beautifully crafted and old, with two statues on either side of a central column. Their arms were raised, hands grasping the large bowl above their heads, carrying it on their shoulders. It looked like it could be a beautiful fountain, with lots of people gathering around it during the warmer months and children throwing pennies in to make wishes. Now all I ever saw when I looked at it was a crime scene. This victim was male and, by the look of his attire; jeans, smart button-up shirt, and pointed-toed shoes, a professional person. Or maybe he was coming home from a night on the town? He was tied to the pedestal in the center, hands positioned at an angle to look like he was holding the bowl where the water came out, just like the two statues on either side of him. Luckily, the fountain was off because of the time of year, or else most of the evidence might have been washed away. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at this fountain the same.” Sully shook his head in disbelief. I had never seen the fountain before the first victim we found, which was a female, and positioned in the same manner as this victim. So I don’t have any other memories to attribute to it like I’m sure Sully did. “Same MO as the previous vic.” I spoke aloud to no one in particular, as I pulled a pair of examination gloves on. I stepped into the empty fountain to get a better look at the victim. He had thirteen stab wounds in a circular pattern on his chest, just like the Jane Doe we investigated not even a week prior. He looked to be about mid twenties. He had shaggy ashy brown hair, with a dusting of scruff on his face. He was so... young, and it broke my heart in a way that I couldn’t explain, to see a life full of possibility just snuffed out like that. “Do we have an ID?” I asked one of the CSI’s. He shook his head at me. “No, just like the last victim, there was no identification.” Fuck. I looked around the square, it was mainly empty except for law enforcement, and a small crowd of homeless people standing off to the side. “Who called it in?” I directed my question at Sully, who pointed his cup of coffee and forefinger at two women dressed in very revealing club attire. They were giving a statement to a young police officer, who just looked happy to be in their general vicinity. My eyes wandered back over to the homeless people who were watching us intently. Most of them had wandered off except for three of them, and they had this look on their faces that portrayed loss. Did they know the victim? “What about those three?” I nodded my head in their direction. One of the nearby officers followed my gaze and then snorted. “Yeah, maybe if we wanted to be hassled for booze money.” He smirked, and the officer standing next to him chuckled. My face heated slightly from anger at his comment. I looked at the gold nameplate on the front of his uniform. Herring. “Officer Herring, do I need to remind you of the Police Officer’s Creed?” “What?” His eyebrows furrowed at that statement. “The creed we all had to recite when we first put the badge on. Or did you forget it?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “Wha-no.” He gave me an incredulous look, but I ignored him and kept going. “Because if you remembered it, then you would remember the part where it says. “I will never act officiously or permit personal feelings, prejudices, animosities, or friendships to influence my decisions."" "I remember what it says." He responded in a defensive tone, his jaw setting, and his face going red in the cheeks. "Great." I gave him a facetious grin, and a slap on the shoulder as I passed by him. "Make sure you follow it next time." I could hear Sully chuckling as he followed me over to the three men, who had taken notice, and began to back away. Fear showing in their expressions. I held my hands out in a cautionary manner, showing them that I wasn't there to cause any problems. "Whoa-whoa hold on a sec. We just wanna ask you guys some questions. That's all." They looked at each other, as if communicating silently with one another. Deciding collectively, they finally approached us slowly, and I was able to get a better look at them. They were just kids, probably no older than fifteen. "We don't want any trouble." One of them spoke up. He was taller than the other two, with a beanie shoved tightly over his head. The way he carried himself and seemed to stand in front of the other two made me think that he was protective over them. "And we don't wanna cause you any trouble." I reassured them. "I'm Detective Beck, and this is my friend Detective Shaw." "He likes to think we're friends." Sully grinned at his own joke, but it got two of them to crack a little smile. Except for the one standing in front, who eyeballed us with scrutiny. "You guys seemed pretty interested in the crime scene?" I asked, keeping my voice even. "So, it's a free country." The kid with the beanie replied defensively. "You're right." I nodded. "But what I'm curious about is how you knew the victim." I saw a flash of fear behind his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it showed up. It didn't matter though, because that flash, even if it was minor, showed me that my assumption was correct. "What makes you think we knew him?” I looked over my shoulder towards the crime scene. From where we were standing, there was no way they could see the victim. "I never said it was a male victim." I c****d an eyebrow, looking back at him. He clamped his mouth shut. He knew that I had him now. I just wished he trusted me. "What's your name kid?" Sully asked. "Jake." "Well, Jake, withholding information from an active investigation could lead to criminal charges. We know that you know something, all we want to do is help." I knew Sully meant well, but the idea of having criminal charges filed on this kid kind of made my blood boil. He wasn't doing anything wrong, he was just a scared kid. "Look guys, just tell us something, anything. We want to bring justice to your friend. But the only way we can do that is if we catch the killer, and the only way we can do that is with information. Anything could be helpful, including his name." I urged, hoping that my calm demeanor would help him crack slightly. Beanie kid dropped his gaze to the cobblestone beneath his feet. The other two watched him with a look of urgency, signaling that they wanted him to give me information but didn't want to go against him. He sighed and brought his gaze back up. "Kyle Harding." He grumbled. Thank god, that tidbit just made the case a little easier. But I still needed more information, and I didn't want to scare this kid off. "How did you know Kyle?" I asked. "He would help some of us out." "Whose us?" I pressed in my calm demeanor. He paused for a little bit, staring into my eyes. I tried to put as much trustworthiness as I could into them. C'mon kid, trust me. "The other gay kids out here living on the streets." My heart broke a little more hearing that. It was bad enough that these kids had to endure bullying for their s****l orientation, but to also be homeless because they had nowhere to go? Memories of my old man and that night thirteen years ago crept into my brain, and I had to clear my throat and shake my head slightly to get rid of them. Jake watched me with an intrigued expression. Like somewhere deep down he knew that I knew what it was like. How the streets seemed like a better, safer alternative to an abusive situation at home. "What kinds of things would he do for you guys?" I asked, focusing on the case, and not the phantom sensation of a hand being squeezed around my throat. He shrugged. "Just things like counseling, getting us fresh clothes when he could, or food. He was a really great guy." I gave him a smile. "Seems like it." "Are we done? We need to get back to our spot so nothing gets taken." He replied impatiently, shuffling around uncomfortably. I nodded my head. "Yeah that's all we need, thank you… Hey, wait-“ I stopped them as they began to walk away. I reached in my back pocket and withdrew my wallet, pulling a twenty out. I handed it over to Jake, who eyed it skeptically. "Here, get yourselves something to eat." He glared at me. "We don't need your charity." "You seriously gonna turn away twenty bucks?" I responded in a challenging tone. He eyed the twenty in my hand with hungry eyes, and slowly he extended his hand and took the bill from my grasp. I smiled inwardly at my success. "My cards there too. If you think of anything else, call me, or come by the station and ask for me." "Umm, thanks?" He responded in an unsure tone. I gave him a nod and watched as he walked off with his friends. Hoping that the night would treat them well. "Nice work. I didn't know you had a soft spot for kids." Sully spoke with an amused tone, and gave me a slap on the shoulder which knocked me off kilter slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?" I gave him a sideways glance. We started walking back towards the crime scene, the CSI’s removing the man from the fountain and placing his body in a bag. "It's no secret that you're a little… Prickly," Sully chuckled. "Aww thanks Sully." I replied, giving him an endearing grin. It wasn't the first time I had heard that. Truth be told, I didn't give a rat's ass what other people thought about me. Abby had on multiple occasions said I needed to work on my "people skills". Whatever the hell that means. "You have trust issues." That's what my ex Dylan had said, right before he walked out the door. I watched as the CSI’s zipped up the body bag and transferred it to a gurney for transport. I tried not to think about the person contained within. Someone who helped LGBT kids on the street; someone who, for lack of further evidence, seemed like a good person. The detective in me said not to go jumping to conclusions. Maybe he was a bad person. Maybe he had more enemies than friends. Still, didn’t excuse the fact that no one deserved to die in such a gruesome way. Just another reminder that we live in a sick, sad world.