(some gore/violent description in this chap.)

7:39 PM, 10/13/2019

When I finally got to the scene, it was remarkably empty. Usually when there was a murder in this public of a place the streets would be packed with reporters and curious folk, all milling around to get pictures. The storm, however, had taken care of that. By now, it was raining heavily and the afternoon sky was lit up with lightening. I could see my captain, along with a few other detectives I had seen around the station, under the bridge talking to some policemen. There were a couple vehicles pulled up, all with sirens blaring.

I pulled over near one of the police cars, and pulled my coat on. I stepped out, regretting not borrowing Theone's umbrella.

"Horowitz! Get over here." A senior detective called out to me.

"Yes, sir-" I hurried under the bridge, only getting lightly soaked. Crime techs were already scurrying around, taking photos and bagging little bits and pieces.

"Casey, you fill her in," the captain muttered, before walking off to talk to the uniformed officers who had arrived.

Derek Casey, the senior detective, turned to me. "He drove off the 405 and under the tunnel. Somehow, he got stopped, got out of the car, and got stabbed. The blade is some cheap shit, probably bought at one of those bargain stores. Did the job, though. No ID on him- the killer took his wallet and phone. The other car sped off, some techs are looking at the tire patterns." I nodded, looking over at the body, which was being examined by Julian.

Julian was our autopsy technician. He seemed an interesting guy, but I hadn't had much interaction with him. My gaze shifted to the body, not yet packed up. The skin was paler, and seemed taught and rubbery. The blood on the asphalt was long dry by now, as well as the blood on his clothes and skin. The blade, still glinting from his chest, seemed to have been lodged perfectly in the man's chest. It had to have been a strong blow, I mused.

"He was stabbed only once," I began, "so you've got to think the killer knew what they were doing, and they were very calm and collected. I doubt there's any personal connection- those are usually much more frenzied. Whoever did this was purposeful and not emotional in the slightest."

Casey nodded. "That's what we thought as well. It'll be much better once we get an ID on our John Doe, though."

"Hey, why's the captain here?" I asked, "Surely there are plenty of better places he could be?"

"Probably trying to make sure you two newbies-" he gestured to myself and the other detective present, "-don't screw anything up. That's also the reason I'm here."

While we were both detectives, we had just been promoted, so the captain wanted us to do our first few homicide cases with a more senior detective. Casey was very well-respected and the captain held him in a very high regard, so I felt lucky to be assigned to work with him on one of his cases.

I went to reply, but the other detective, a rather small young woman, cut me off. "Casey, you forgot to tell her the best part- we got a witness!"

Her enthusiasm attracted an unwanted glare from the captain, which shut her up, at least for the time being. I remembered her from this morning's briefing- her tattoos had caught my attention. She had a small music note behind her left ear, as well as two sleeves of tattoos currently being masked by a leather jacket and a parka. A clap of thunder snapped me back into real time, and I processed what she'd said.

"A witness?"

"Yeah," the woman continued, "Little homeless girl. She was sitting right over there, off the freeway. Guy passes her, gives her some food, and then goes under the bridge. She heard him scream and went over to check it out."

"Did she see the other car?"

"Not sure. She's in shock, I think. Could barely get what I told you out," the woman paused, "She can't be more than 15."

I sighed. I hated having young witnesses- I couldn't imagine an older Robin being present to any of these, it was just too much to bear.

"Maybe you can have a crack at her?" Casey, who had been quiet for a bit, offered, "A fresh face might be good."

"I- are you sure?" I asked nervously, "I mean, I've never... done one of those before."

While I had of course spoken to witnesses before, it had always been at the scene. I was yet to do anything with witnesses after they had left. I half-expected Casey to say that he or someone else would cover it, but without missing a beat he responded, "There's a first time for everything, Horowitz. Let's check with the captain, shall we?"

We went to review with the captain. He gave the official okay, and I drove off to the precinct. The storm was only getting worse, but it was fairly close to the freeway exit so I was able to make the drive without too much trouble.

After de-layering, I found out that the he girl was waiting in one of our rooms. I had been told to keep the discussion strictly about the case and not ask about her personal life, as social workers were coming in that afternoon. I looked through the blinds and saw her sitting there. She looked quite tense, eyes darting around as if she thought she was being watched by someone. The girl had her knees pulled up, resting her chin on them. She had a neutral expression on her face- so neutral that she nearly looked bored, had it not been for her eyes. A purple blanket was draped over her shoulders, and there was a black jacket on the floor of the room. I assumed these were her belongings, since after traumatic events, people feel much more comfortable around their own things.

I went in, closing the door behind me.

"Hello," I sat down, "I'm Rachel. I'm a detective."

"I know," she responded blankly, shifting her seating position, "Your badge shows through your jacket, but you're not in uniform."

"Oh," I paused for a moment. I hadn't expected her to respond, let alone with something like that.

"I don't mind," the girl seemed to relax, which I took as a good sign, "I'm just glad they didn't send in some sort of therapist."

Her personality was not at all like that of what Casey and the other woman had described to me, but I figured some of the initial shock had worn off by now. I pulled out my notepad and began.

"Okay," I continued, "so I'm going to ask you a few questions, and just try to answer as best as you can."

She stared pensively at me, before nodding slowly.

"Did you see anyone else, anyone at all at the scene?"

She shook her head, pulling up her legs and sitting cross-legged in the chair.

"Did you see a car speed off?"

"I saw one turn the corner. It went to the right- it was a small white car. The plate number was 1GKW724."

"Wow- quite a memory there, huh?" I was unable to hide how impressed I was, "That's really helpful, thank you."

For the first time, I saw a hint of a smile cross the girl's face.

"Around what time was this, if you had to say?"

"A bit past 5," she bit her lip, as if she was thinking back.

I scrawled that down as well.

The girl shifted in the chair, adjusting her hair. I stopped writing, and looked up at her. She didn't look scared, like I expected- she just looked uneasy.

"This must..." I searched for words, ".... really suck, huh?"

The girl, obviously caught off guard, smiled slightly and seemed to ease up a little. "Yeah, it really does. You know, you're the first person that's acknowledged that. Everyone else just asks if I'm okay."

I nodded, starting to understand the girl a bit more. To be exposed to something that horrible and have people still treat you like such a child would irritate me too. Granted, I doubted I would be as calm as the girl, but she obviously hadn't had a model childhood based on her current living situation.

I continued to ask more questions, each of which she had an answer for. She had an extraordinary memory, I came to find out. Her ability to remember sights, sounds, and even smells was uncanny. Throughout our conversation the girl seemed to calm down a lot and stopped glancing fervently back and forth. By the end, she had transitioned to sitting almost in a ball on the chair with her blanket over her.

"Finally, what's your name and age?"

"Katherine Evelyn Brendiss, 15."

"Well, thank you, Katherine."

"Please, call me Kay."

If I had known how huge a part Kay would end up playing in my life, I would have probably at least given her a hug. However, I simply stood, explained that some social representatives were coming in later that night and that I would be back, and left.