\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2329677-A-Broken-Promise-Mystery-book-6
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 18+ · Novel · LGBTQ+ · #2329677
TW: Mentions of homicide, LGBTQ+ Topics, Implied PTSD
NYCPD
Precinct 33 roles

Precinct Commissioner: Ellen Ricks - 45 years old, female, worked at Precinct 33 for 20 years. Sexuality: Straight. Married
Technical crime scene investigation officer: Jesse Brookes - 35 years old, male, worked at Precinct 33 for 15 years. divorced currently. Sexuality: Straight.
Medical examiner: Karen Elles - 56 years old, female, widowed, worked at Precinct 33 for 30 years. Sexuality: Straight

Crime scene investigators:
Denissa Williams
Vivian Erickson - female, 32 years old, single, no nonsense, gets a bit irritable with Denissa, but usually has a little bit of sympathy for her after what she's gone through. Only really a bit hard on Denissa because she has a crush on her. Sexuality: Lesbian
Jason Garcias [Formerly] {Now deceased}

Character card -

Name: Denissa Evelyn Williams
Occupation: Detective/Crime Scene investigator
Sexuality: "In the closet" Bisexual
Partner/Fiancé: Jason Garcia [Formerly]
Children:
Jacob - 13 years old, male, Responsible enough for Denissa to leave him in charge of watching his siblings
Rhea - 5 years old, female, quiet, twin to Carmen
Carmen - 5 years old, intersex, hyper, twin to Rhea
Hair color: Blonde to dirty blonde
Eye color: Hazel
-Currently widowed

Story: Still struggling with the balance of parenthood and working in Precinct 33 in New York, Denissa finds it in herself to try and find someone else to help her with that struggle. But the problem is... She's never really gotten along with any guy except Jason, but she isn't sure what to do. So one of two mysteries here... Is Denissa possibly bisexual? Is she possibly looking for someone of the same gender as herself to move on in a relationship with? With that question aside, Denissa also has to keep her personal life from interfering with her work life.


_______________


"Mom, can I go outside?" Jacob called out, his voice echoing through the narrow apartment hallway.

Denissa, knee-deep in a pile of laundry, took a moment to look over her shoulder. "Hold on, Jake," she said, her eyes scanning the floor for a stray sock. "I'll be there in a sec."

"But, Mom," he protested, his voice carrying the urgency of a kid eager to play.

"Just wait, okay?" she said, a hint of irritation in her voice. She didn't have the luxury of dropping everything to cater to his whims today. She had a big case to prep for, and she was already running late.

Her mind was racing with thoughts of evidence bags and fingerprints when the doorbell rang, sending her heart into a sprint. She sighed, setting down the laundry basket with a thump. "Coming!" she called out, hoping it wasn't one of her neighbors with another complaint.

When she opened the door, she found a delivery man holding a bouquet of flowers. "Denissa Williams?" he asked, his tone bored.

"Yes," she said, surprised. She didn't remember ordering flowers.

He handed them to her. "Sign here," he said, holding out a clipboard.

Her eyes scanned the note attached to the bouquet. "With deepest condolences," it read, "from the team at Precinct 33." It had been a year since Jason's death, and the gesture was both touching and painful.

Denissa thanked the delivery man, shut the door, and brought the flowers to her nose, inhaling their sweet scent. She felt a pang of sadness and a rush of memories. Jason had always picked her up flowers after a tough case. It was his way of saying 'I know you're tired, but I'm here for you'. She missed him, his calming presence, and the way he could make her laugh even when the world was falling apart.

Placing the bouquet on the kitchen table, she turned to face her kids. Rhea and Carmen were sitting in the living room, their eyes wide with curiosity. "You two," she said, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt, "keep an eye on Jacob, okay?"

The twins nodded solemnly, and she ruffled their hair before heading to the bedroom to get ready for work. As she slipped into her blazer, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for the day ahead. The case file lay open on her dresser, the glossy photos of the crime scene stark against the pale wood. It was a grisly murder, one that had the entire precinct on edge.

When she arrived at Precinct 33, the usual buzz of activity was tinged with tension. She spotted Vivian at the coffee machine, looking as sharp as ever. "Hey," she said, trying to keep her voice light.

Vivian glanced up, her eyes softening slightly. "You okay?" she asked, handing Denissa a steaming cup.

Denissa took a sip, letting the warmth seep into her. "Yeah," she lied, "just the usual." She didn't want to get into it. Not here. Not now.

The two women walked side by side to the briefing room, where the rest of the team was already gathered. Commissioner Ricks was at the front, her expression serious. She cleared her throat and began to speak, her words cutting through the low murmur of conversation.

"As you all know," she said, "we have a new case that needs our immediate attention. The body of a young woman was found in Central Park last night, brutally murdered. We need to catch this killer before they strike again."

Denissa felt the weight of the room settle onto her shoulders as she took her seat. She knew this case would be tough, but she couldn't let it consume her. Not with her kids waiting at home, not with the ghost of Jason in her heart.

"Jesse," the commissioner continued, "you're on forensics. Denissa, Vivian, I want you two out there, eyes open, ears to the ground. Talk to witnesses, follow any leads."

Denissa nodded, her mind already racing with questions. Who was this woman? What led to her being in Central Park so late at night? And most importantly, who had done this to her?

As they left the precinct, the cool fall air hit her like a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the reality outside her cozy apartment. The bright lights of the city did little to chase away the shadows of doubt and sadness that clung to her like a second skin. She glanced over at Vivian, who was already typing away on her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen.

"You okay?" Vivian asked, noticing the faraway look in Denissa's eyes.

"Yeah," Denissa replied with a forced smile, "just thinking about the case."

Vivian nodded, understanding. They had been partners for a few years now, and she knew when to push and when to give her space. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that comes from shared experiences and late nights at crime scenes.

The drive to Central Park was tense, the quiet punctuated only by the occasional siren in the distance. As they pulled up to the cordoned-off area, the flashing lights of the patrol cars cast eerie patterns on the surrounding trees. Denissa took a deep breath, bracing herself for what lay ahead.

The crime scene was worse than she had imagined. The young woman, barely out of her teens, was sprawled on the grass, her lifeless eyes staring up at the indifferent stars. Denissa felt a flicker of anger, a fiery determination to find the monster who had done this. She knelt beside the body, her hazmat suit crunching against the fallen leaves as she began to process the scene.

Vivian was already snapping photos and cataloging evidence, her voice a low murmur as she talked into her recorder. The medical examiner, Karen Elles, arrived, her face a mask of professionalism. She greeted them with a nod, then set to work.

Denissa's eyes scanned the area, looking for anything that might be a clue. A discarded cigarette butt caught her attention, and she carefully placed it in an evidence bag. Every detail mattered, every scrap of information could be the key to solving the puzzle.

Her thoughts drifted back to her kids, to the life she had built with Jason. It was moments like these that she felt his absence most acutely, the emptiness in her heart a constant reminder of the love she had lost. But she couldn't let that distract her now. Not when there was a killer out there, preying on the innocent.

"What've we got?" she asked, her voice firm.

Vivian looked up from her notes. "Witnesses heard a struggle around midnight, but no one saw anything. No ID on the victim yet."

Denissa stood, her mind racing. "Alright," she said, "let's get to it. Time's not on our side."

They worked tirelessly through the night, collecting evidence and interviewing anyone who might have seen something. The park was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of laughter and life replaced by the solemn hum of the investigation.

As dawn began to break, the chill in the air turned to a cold, hard resolve in Denissa's heart. She would find this killer, for the victim, for Jason, for her kids. And maybe, just maybe, in solving this case, she would find a piece of herself that she had lost along the way.

The first few interviews yielded nothing but dead ends and shaky alibis. The park had been busy the previous night, but the witnesses' memories were as murky as the pond nearby. It was frustrating, but Denissa knew better than to get discouraged so early in the investigation. She had to stay sharp, stay focused.

Vivian's phone buzzed, and she held it up to show Denissa the screen. "Forensics has something," she said, her voice tight with excitement. "A partial fingerprint on the victim's necklace. It's not in the system, but it's something."

They rushed back to the precinct, the adrenaline from the potential lead propelling them through the quiet streets. The lab was a flurry of activity when they arrived, with Jesse already hunched over the evidence, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"What have you got?" Denissa demanded, her voice echoing in the stark room.

Jesse looked up, his eyes bleary from hours of squinting through a microscope. "It's a partial, but it's clean enough. I've sent it to the database. Could be a match."

Denissa nodded, her gut telling her that this was the break they needed. "Good work," she said, her voice tight with hope. "Keep me posted."

While they waited for the results, they returned to the mundane tasks of the job: paperwork, following up with leads that had gone cold, and trying to keep their eyes open despite the bone-deep fatigue that clung to them like fog. Denissa couldn't help but think about the bouquet of flowers from her colleagues, the quiet reminder that she wasn't alone in her grief.

As the day dragged on, the precinct grew tense with anticipation. Every beep of a phone, every knock on the door, brought the possibility of a new lead. And when it finally came, it was as shocking as it was unexpected.

The call from the database had a match. But the fingerprint didn't belong to a known criminal. It was someone they had never expected to see in a million years: a cop from their own precinct. A cop they had all worked with, a cop they had all trusted. The realization hit Denissa like a punch to the gut.

"It can't be," she murmured, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Vivian's hand was on her shoulder, her grip firm. "We've got to tell the commissioner," she said, her voice steady.

Together, they walked down the hall, the weight of their discovery heavy on their shoulders. As they approached the commissioner's office, the door swung open, and they found themselves face-to-face with the last person they wanted to see: the owner of the fingerprint.

Their colleague, a man named Daniel, was leaving the room, a smug smile on his face. He looked surprised to see them, his eyes flicking to the file in Vivian's hand before he schooled his features into a concerned expression. "Any updates?" he asked, his tone casual.

Denissa's heart raced as she stared at him, her mind racing. Was he involved? Did he know they were onto him?

Vivian's grip on her shoulder tightened, and she knew they had to tread carefully. "We need to talk," she said, her voice measured.

Daniel's smile slipped, just a fraction, but it was enough. He knew.

The commissioner looked up from her desk, her eyes weary but sharp. "What is it?" she asked, her tone demanding.

Denissa took a deep breath and laid out the evidence, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. As she spoke, the color drained from Daniel's face, his smugness replaced with a cold, calculating look that sent shivers down her spine.

When she was done, the room was silent for a beat too long. Then, the commissioner stood up, her eyes narrowed. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention," she said, her voice like steel. "We'll handle this internally."

Denissa and Vivian exchanged a look. They had done their job, but the real battle was just beginning. And as they stepped out into the hallway, the weight of their discovery threatening to crush them, they knew that nothing at Precinct 33 would ever be the same again.

Over the next few days, the investigation grew more intense. Everyone was on edge, their eyes darting suspiciously at Daniel, who now walked the halls with a cloud of suspicion hanging over him. Denissa couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, her trust in her colleagues shaken to the core. She found solace in her work, throwing herself into the case with a fervor that surprised even her.

But the case was complex, the pieces of the puzzle refusing to fit together neatly. The twins' birthday was approaching, and the guilt of being an absent mother tugged at her, a constant reminder of the life she was trying to balance. Yet, she pushed on, driven by the need to bring justice to the victim and to protect her own family from the horrors of the world she faced every day.

One evening, as she tucked the twins into bed, Rhea looked up at her with innocent eyes. "Mommy," she whispered, "are you okay?"

Denissa forced a smile, her heart aching. "I'm fine, sweetie," she said, kissing her forehead. "Just working on something important."

But as she left the room, her thoughts lingered on the case, on Daniel, and on the possibility of a future without the constant shadow of her past. She had never allowed herself to consider a relationship with a woman, but with Vivian's gentle support and the emptiness Jason had left behind, she found her thoughts drifting in that direction more and more.

The break came when a second body was found, the murder bearing the same chilling signature. The team worked around the clock, the tension in the air so thick it was almost palpable. As they pieced together the new evidence, it became clear that the killer was taunting them, leaving breadcrumbs that led back to the precinct itself.

Denissa felt the noose tightening around her neck, her mind racing with scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. Who could it be? And why had they chosen now, of all times, to strike? As the days passed, the pressure grew unbearable. The commissioner called a meeting, her face grim as she laid out the new evidence. The fingerprints had led them to Daniel, a man who had been a part of their precinct family for years. The room was a cacophony of whispers and accusations, the air thick with suspicion and fear.

Vivian's hand on her back was the only thing keeping Denissa upright. They had worked together for so long, shared so much, and yet, the possibility of a romantic connection had always remained unspoken. But now, in the face of such horror, it was as if the universe was pushing them closer together, whispering that maybe, just maybe, they could find solace in one another.

As the interrogation began, Daniel's smug facade began to crack. His eyes darted around the room, seeking an ally, but finding only cold stares. The realization dawned on him that he was truly alone in this. Denissa watched him closely, her heart racing as the truth unfolded. The case was personal now, not just because of her own loss, but because it had struck at the very core of their team.

The confession came in the early hours of the morning, the stark fluorescent lights of the interrogation room casting harsh shadows on Daniel's face as he broke down and admitted to the murders. The room was silent, the only sound the steady tick of the clock on the wall, marking the end of an era at Precinct 33.

Denissa and Vivian left the room together, the weight of what they had just witnessed settling heavily on their shoulders. They walked down the corridor in silence, the echoes of Daniel's sobs following them like ghosts. When they reached the locker room, Vivian turned to her, her expression unreadable.

"Denissa," she began, her voice soft, "I know this is hard for you."

Denissa nodded, her eyes never leaving Vivian's. She felt raw, exposed. "I don't know what to think," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vivian leaned against the locker, her eyes searching Denissa's face. "You don't have to think about it now," she said gently. "We've got this case to close, and then we'll deal with everything else."

Denissa nodded again, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She knew Vivian was right. They had to finish this first. But the thought of going home to her kids, to the emptiness that awaited her, was almost too much to bear.

The following days were a blur of paperwork and preparation for the trial. Denissa threw herself into her work, pushing aside thoughts of a personal life. The twins' birthday came and went, a bittersweet reminder of the joy that could still be found amidst the pain.

As the case moved forward, the bond between Denissa and Vivian grew stronger. They found themselves sharing more than just work stories, their conversations drifting into personal territory, and the lines between friendship and something more began to blur.

One evening, as they sat in the quiet of the precinct, long after everyone else had gone home, Vivian reached over and took Denissa's hand. "You know," she said, her voice tentative, "I've been thinking a lot about us."

Denissa's heart skipped a beat. She had been thinking about it too, the unspoken attraction that had always been there, now amplified by their shared trauma and the solace they had found in each other's company. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice a little too casual.

Vivian took a deep breath. "I mean, I've had feelings for you for a while now. And with everything that's happened... I just want you to know that I'm here. For you."

Denissa felt the air leave her lungs. She had never allowed herself to consider the possibility before, but now it was staring her in the face, as real as the files on the desk between them. "Vivian," she began, not sure of what to say.

But Vivian stopped her with a squeeze of her hand. "You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. We can take this slow, or not at all. It's up to you."

Denissa looked into Vivian's eyes, feeling the warmth of her touch, the comfort of her presence. Maybe, she thought, maybe this was the start of something new. Something she didn't have to hide from.

As the weeks passed, the trial began, and the precinct slowly returned to a semblance of normalcy. Daniel's confession was airtight, and the jury had no choice but to find him guilty. With the case closed, the tension in the air began to dissipate, but the memory of the betrayal lingered.

Denissa found herself leaning on Vivian more and more, their friendship evolving into something deeper. They would sit in the park where the first victim had been found, sharing takeout and talking about everything but the case. It was a safe space, a place where they could just be.

One night, as the leaves began to change and the air grew crisp with the promise of fall, Vivian leaned in, her eyes searching Denissa's. "Can I kiss you?" she asked, her voice low.

Denissa's heart raced, but she didn't hesitate. She nodded, and Vivian's lips met hers, soft and tentative. It was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, a promise of comfort and understanding. When they pulled away, their eyes held the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of first dates and stolen moments, their relationship growing stronger as they navigated the choppy waters of their newfound feelings. The kids took to Vivian quickly, her no-nonsense attitude and gentle nature a welcome addition to their lives. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Denissa felt hope, the possibility of love blossoming in the most unexpected place.

But the job at Precinct 33 was never simple, and soon enough, they were thrown into a new case: a string of burglaries that had the neighborhood on edge. The late nights and long hours meant less time together, but they found ways to keep the flame alive, sharing sweet texts and quick calls when they could.

One evening, as they sat on a stakeout in a cold, unmarked car, Vivian leaned over and whispered, "I think we're getting closer."

Denissa nodded, her eyes scanning the dark street. "To catching the perp?"

Vivian grinned. "No, to admitting to each other how much we mean to one another."

Denissa felt the heat rise to her cheeks. It was true. Despite the chaos of their lives, they had found something real, something worth fighting for. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?" she murmured.

Vivian's smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds. "So are you."

The tension of the case mounted, the burglar growing bolder with each crime. They knew it was only a matter of time before he made a mistake, and when he did, they were ready. The adrenaline of the chase, the thrill of the capture, it was all a part of the job they loved. But as they stood over the handcuffed criminal, the look of victory in their eyes, Denissa knew that what they had found in each other was worth more than any case they could solve.

As the winter months set in, the precinct buzzed with the excitement of the holidays approaching. The decorations went up, and the scent of cinnamon and pine filled the air, a stark contrast to the cold steel and sterile surfaces of their workplace. Denissa walked past Vivian's desk and saw a little Lesbian pride flag in her pencil holder, possibly a clear indication that Vivian had always felt a connection with someone who was the same gender as her, Denissa just never realized it until now. She couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth in her chest that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Their relationship grew in stolen moments between cases and late nights at the precinct. They shared a quiet dinner in the break room, the hum of the fluorescent lights the only sound as they held hands under the table. The way Vivian looked at her, with a softness that was both comforting and exciting, made Denissa feel alive again.

But the job didn't take a break for romance. A new case came in, a series of missing persons that seemed to have no connection at first glance. The team dove in headfirst, determined to bring peace to the families that had been torn apart. Denissa found herself working side by side with Vivian more than ever before, their partnership stronger than it had ever been.

The missing persons case grew more urgent with each passing day, and the pressure began to wear on them all. Denissa would come home to find the twins fast asleep, the guilt of her absence like a heavy weight in her chest. But Vivian was always there, waiting up for her, ready to listen and hold her when the tears came.

One particularly grueling night, as they sat together in the quiet of the precinct, Denissa finally found the words she had been searching for. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Vivian took her hand, her gaze steady. "You can," she said firmly. "You're the strongest person I know. And you're not alone. We're in this together."

Denissa looked into Vivian's eyes and saw the truth there. "I know I was pretty hard on you when you and Jason first joined the force, but that was really to make you stronger and look where you are now.." Vivian smiled. "I know.. And I thank you for pushing me like that, Vivian." Denissa laughed a bit.

The case grew colder with each day, the trail of the missing persons seemingly vanishing into thin air. The team was getting desperate for a lead, and the tension in the precinct was palpable. Denissa's home life suffered as she spent more time at work, but Vivian remained a constant, a source of comfort and support. Their stolen moments grew more meaningful, each one a beacon of light in the dark tunnel of the case.

One cold, December evening, as the first snowflakes of the season began to fall outside the precinct windows, they finally caught a break. A tip came in that led them to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Their hearts racing, Denissa and Vivian led the raid, their partnership unshakeable.

Inside, the scene was grim. The missing persons had been found, but not in the way they had hoped. The warehouse was a makeshift prison, the walls lined with cages, each holding a terrified individual. The smell of fear and despair was overwhelming, but they pushed on, driven by the need to save these people.

The perp was caught, a twisted individual with a vendetta against society. As they took him into custody, the relief washed over Denissa like a wave. It was a victory, but one that left a bitter taste in her mouth. The job was never easy, and it often came at a personal cost.

Back at the precinct, the team gathered around the Christmas tree, the mood subdued. They had found the missing, but the scars of the case remained fresh. Denissa looked at Vivian, the warmth in her eyes unmistakable. They had been through hell together, and yet, they had come out the other side, their bond unbroken.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

Vivian took her hand, squeezing it gently. "We're in this together," she said, her voice steady. "Always."

The holidays were a blur of paperwork and follow-ups, but Denissa made sure to carve out time for her family. The twins' eyes lit up when they saw the presents Vivian had brought for them, and Jacob had even started to warm up to the idea of his mother being happy with someone new.

As Christmas approached, Denissa knew she had to make a choice. She could either let fear and doubt rule her heart, or she could embrace the love that had found its way into her life. With a deep breath, she decided to take the leap.

On Christmas Eve, as they sat in the quiet of her apartment, the twins tucked into bed, she turned to Vivian. "I want you to know," she began, her heart racing, "that I'm ready."

Vivian's eyes searched hers, understanding dawning. "Ready for what?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Ready for us," Denissa said, her voice firm. "I know it's complicated, and I know it won't be easy, but I'm ready to see where this goes."

Vivian's face lit up with joy, and she leaned in to kiss her. It was a kiss filled with hope and promise, a declaration of their intent to move forward, together.

As the snow fell outside, and the city grew quiet, Denissa felt a sense of peace she hadn't known in a long time. With Vivian by her side, she was ready to face whatever the new year brought. Whether it was solving the darkest cases or navigating the uncharted waters of a new relationship, she knew she wasn't alone.

And as they stood together, their hearts beating in sync, the sirens of a distant patrol car cutting through the night, they knew that they would face it all, as they had always done: together, as a team, ready to tackle whatever life threw their way.
© Copyright 2024 AwesomeWolf70 (awesomewolf70 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2329677-A-Broken-Promise-Mystery-book-6