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Another perfect day. Noah thought sarcastically as his eyes wandered up to the black storm clouds that were moving in off to his right. The Western states had been sending a lot of shit this way for the past few days, ever since that tropical storm has changed it's course and landed smack dad into Texas. Of course, his home in Florida was still catching the tail. He sighed and shook his head, rummaging through his coat pocket for his car keys.
He had called Dick Samuels about a half hour before, letting him know he'd be a little late to the office. "Sure Noah, take your time. Are you sure you're ready to come back at all? I mean, after Irene... I... we all thought you'd be out longer than a week is all." Noah had pondered the idea of taking another week, but in the end had decided against it. "Yeah, I'm sure. Sitting at home seeing all of her stuff just makes it harder. I'll be in around ten."
Now he was opening the door to his black Bronco, wishing he'd taken his partner's adivice and kicked back for a week. But it was too late for that now; they were expecting him.
He reved the engin and spun the car out of the driveway, making his way toward Belcher Road. The storm had gotten closer in the few minutes it had taken him to come to a stop at the intersection of Belcher and Ulmerton. He leaned forward over the steering wheel and looked with disgust at the jeering clouds. A flash of lightning brighter than the mid-day sun illminated the dreary morning for a moment, and Noah slowly began counting the seconds until a massive thunder roar tickled his feet on the pedals as his car slightly shook. "Rain's not far behind", he said as the light turned and the silver van ahead of him moved forward, allowing him to make a right turn.
His stomach growled suddenly, and he made a sharp, instant turn into the McDonalds on his immediate right. Favoring the drive-through, he pulled up to the speaker and eyed the menu as the young woman on register greeted him and told him to take his time. He'd been hearing that a lot here lately. He quickly ordered two sausage biscuits and a medium diet coke with lemon, then pulled around to the first window, scanning his ash tray for spare change. The high school-aged attendant smiled as he approached, but the expression slightly faded as he handed her a one- dollar bill and over two dollars in change. "Sorry, I needed to get rid of it." He said, embarrassed, as she began counting his change. He pulled slightly forward, and she bade him a good day, then closed her drawer and began taking the next order.
The staff parking at the station was nearly empty as Noah swerved into the open lot. He drove halfway down, and found his reserved parking spot next to Dick's. Pulling in, he hesitated a moment before shutting off the car. He knew what kind of questions were waiting for him inside. He stared knowingly at the glass doors before him. The radio clock said it was ten after ten. He knew he should get a move on, but instead, he switched the radio over to the country station, hoping for a report on the weather. When there wasn't one after five more minutes, Noah turned the car off, sucked down the rest of his coke, tossed the cup into the backseat and climbed out of the car just as the first drops of rain began pelting the pavement.
The office looked just the same as it had when he had left it. Pictures of Irene and himself lined the edges of his desk, and he quickly and quietly gathered them up and put them in the back of his file drawer. He didn't want to see her face right now. It was too soon. He sat down in his old, battered, leather chair, listening to its familar sigh as the cushion molded to his body. He studied his name plate on the corner of the cherry oak desk and rubbed his fingers over the letters. Leutinent Noah Sutter. He'd been on the force for nearly seven years now, but the name Leutinent still sounded foreign when he was addressed as such.
A big bay window sat directly before him, and he looked out over the yard of the station, the rain putting the scene into a misty gray blur. Leaning his head against the head rest, Noah closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to make up for the little sleep he got the night before.
"Guess what?" Irene asked, coming out of the bathroom and standing before Noah, sitting on the bed.
"What?" Noah asked, motioning for her to come sit next to him. She pulled a long peice of plastic from behind her back, and held it out so Noah could see the blue plus sign. "I'm pregnant."
Noah jerked up suddenly to light rapping on his door. He swiveled his chair around, rubbed his foggy eyes and looked at his watch. He'd been asleep for almost an hour. "Come in!" He hollered, his heart racing from the sudden shock of being woken up. The door creaked open and Dick walked in, carrying a brown folder. Noah knew what he was about to ask, and he eyed the folder until it was hidden from view on Dick's lap as he sat in the armchair opposite Noah.
"How you been? Me and the guys have been kinda worried." Dick smiled kindly, but Noah knew he was just making small talk to avoid the topic at hand. He decided to humor him, and half- smiled at his partner. "Fine I guess. About as well as to be expected when your wife suddenly disappears then turns up two weeks later in a garbage bag floating out of the ocean." Dick looked scolded, and he averted his eyes to study his hands, folded in his lap.
"Noah, I..." Noah cut him off. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so cold. It's just a lot to take on for one month. You've been a good friend. Thank you." Dick nodded, smiled. He took a deep breath, and Noah prepared himself for what he knew was comming. "You know what we have to do now. The longer we put it off the harder our chances become of catching the perp. I'm sorry, man, but Irene and your baby are now our latest murder vics and if you want them to rest in peace, we gotta do this. You ready?"
Noah sighed and randomly wisped away a stray piece of dust in the air. "No. But, I know I got to. For their sake."
The two men spent the next three hours going over the case. Joah had not been able to look at the pictures of his wife's body, but he had read the reports and put in his two since of what they thought they should do. As the clock neared three, they closed the folders and sat quietly for a moment. Dick leaned back in his seat and stared at something on Noah's desk. "Well, whoever this is, he's a genius. Didn't leave a single trace." "Her ring was missing." Noah proclaimed absently. Dick looked up. "Her ring?" Noah nodded. "That was the only thing he messed up on. He took her wedding ring." Dick sat up and hurridly opened up Irene's file again. "Why wasn't this in the report? Who led the investigation for the crime scene?" Noah scratched his head. "I think... Daniels said he was doing it. Peter Daniels." Dick shook his head. "Figures. Get him in here!"