"A Broken Promise" Mystery book 8

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: Bisexual
Partner/Fiancé: Jason Garcia [Formerly]
Vivian Erickson [Girlfriend]
Children:
Jacob - 15 years old, male, Responsible enough for Denissa to leave him in charge of watching his siblings
Rhea - 7 years old, female, quiet, twin to Carmen
Carmen - 7 years old, intersex, hyper, twin to Rhea
Hair color: Blonde to dirty blonde
Eye color: Hazel


Story: With a newfound determination to keep up her personal life and her work life up and together without issue, Denissa, now officially out with her bisexuality and moved on after Jason’s death by seeing someone entirely new, manages to keep her stress away from taking care of her children, and away from trying to interfere with her work. Her german shepherd, Sparks’, K9 training is almost complete to the point where he can almost officially go on cases with Denissa and Vivian, but will it have been worth it to train him, or will something happen before his final test is complete?
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"Come on, Sparks, you can do this," Denissa encouraged her young German Shepherd, her voice steady and reassuring. The dog panted, his eyes locked on the swinging door of the training room.

Vivian Erickson, her fellow crime scene investigator at Precinct 33, leaned against the wall, arms folded, a hint of skepticism in her gaze. "You sure you're ready for this?" she asked, her tone teasing.

Denissa shot her a look. "I've been ready since the day I brought him home. You know that."

"Yeah, but I remember those chewed-up shoes," Vivian said with a smirk.

Denissa couldn't help but laugh. "Well, he's not a puppy anymore. He's going to be the best K9 this precinct has ever seen."

The two women watched as Sparks took a deep breath and then darted through the doorway. The room was a maze of obstacles designed to mimic various crime scenes—overturned furniture, darkened hallways, even a makeshift staircase. Denissa had worked tirelessly with Sparks, pushing him to be the best he could be, ever since her partner, Jason Garcias, had passed away. It was her way of keeping Jason's memory alive, of filling the void he left behind. And now, with the final round of training approaching, she felt a strange mix of excitement and anxiety.

SUMMARY^1: Denissa prepares her German Shepherd, Sparks, for a crucial K9 training session at Precinct 33. Vivian, her colleague, questions her readiness with a reminder of Sparks' destructive past as a puppy, but Denissa is determined, seeing this as a way to honor her late partner Jason Garcias. Sparks successfully enters the training room, which mirrors various crime scene scenarios.

Ellen Ricks, the Precinct Commissioner, walked in, her footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. She was a tall, no-nonsense woman with a sharp gaze that could cut through the thickest of tension. "How's our boy doing?" she asked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

Denissa's heart swelled with pride. "He's coming along great. Just needs a bit more work on his search pattern, but he's a quick learner."

Ellen nodded. "We need all the good dogs we can get. And with you two as a team, I've got high hopes for him."

Vivian stepped forward. "What about his final test? When's that happening?"

The commissioner checked her clipboard. "Next week. We're going to have a full run-through of a mock crime scene. If Sparks can find the evidence without any hiccups, he's in."

Denissa felt a knot form in her stomach. A week. Just one week to ensure that Sparks was ready. But she had come this far; she wasn't going to let anything stand in their way.

As they left the training room, Sparks trotted alongside her, his tail wagging with excitement. She reached down to scratch his ears. "You're going to be amazing," she murmured. "Just like your dad."

SUMMARY^1: Precinct Commissioner, Ellen Ricks, visits the training session, inquiring about Sparks' progress. Denissa is proud of his development but admits they need to improve his search pattern. The final test for Sparks' K9 certification is scheduled for next week. The commissioner expresses high hopes for the team and their potential contributions to the precinct.

The corridors of Precinct 33 were bustling with the usual mix of officers and support staff, all going about their business with the practiced efficiency of a well-oiled machine. Denissa and Vivian exchanged a few words with passing colleagues before reaching the quiet sanctity of their office. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and the hum of computers, a stark contrast to the chaos of the world outside their doors.

Karen Elles, the medical examiner, looked up from her paperwork as they entered. She was a woman of few words but immense skill, her silver hair pulled back into a tight bun, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. "How's the wonder pup?" she asked without looking up.

"He's going to be ready," Denissa said with more confidence than she felt.

Vivian rolled her eyes. "If he doesn't trip over his own feet first."

Karen chuckled. "Well, we'll need him on his toes. We've had some peculiar cases lately."

The conversation drifted to the latest string of burglaries that had been plaguing the district, the thief leaving no fingerprints, no DNA, no trace at all. It was as if they were dealing with a ghost.

SUMMARY^1: In the precinct's office, Karen Elles, the medical examiner, greets Denissa and Vivian, asking about Sparks' training progress. Despite the light-hearted banter, there is tension due to a recent string of burglaries where the perpetrator leaves no evidence behind, earning them the moniker "The Ghost."

Denissa's mind wandered to her children, Jacob and the twins, Rhea and Carmen. They were at home now, hopefully keeping out of trouble. She made a mental note to call them when she got a chance, to make sure Jacob wasn't letting his responsibilities slip. Sparks would be a good addition to the family, a protector and a companion for the kids. But first, they had to get through this week of intense training.

The days passed in a blur of obstacle courses, scent training, and endless drills. Denissa pushed herself and Sparks to the brink, ensuring that every command was second nature to the dog. She could feel the anticipation building within the precinct. The other officers had taken a keen interest in Sparks' progress, and many had placed bets on whether he would make it through the final test.

The night before the big day, Denissa sat in her living room, surrounded by the comforting mess of her children's toys. Sparks lay at her feet, panting softly. She stroked his head, her eyes on the TV playing the news in the background. The story of the elusive burglar was still the top headline. The thief had struck again, and the lack of evidence was driving the detectives crazy.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. It was a message from Vivian. "Nervous?" it read.

Denissa replied with a smiling emoji. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The next morning, the tension in the training room was palpable. Sparks could sense it too; his ears perked up, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for the source of the excitement. Denissa took a deep breath, focusing on the dog's trusting gaze. This was it. The moment she had worked towards for months.

The mock crime scene was set up in the precinct's training warehouse, a sprawling space filled with the echoes of past scenarios. The room was dimly lit, with the faint smell of prop blood and gunpowder lingering in the air. The three of them—Denissa, Vivian, and Sparks—stood at the entrance, waiting for the signal to begin.

As the timer started, Denissa gave Sparks the command to search. He took off like a shot, weaving through the obstacles with surprising grace for such a large dog. Denissa and Vivian followed closely behind, their eyes scanning the area for the hidden evidence. The adrenaline rushed through Denissa's veins, the same feeling she got when they were on a real case.

Sparks' training had paid off. He found the first piece of evidence—a small, bloody knife—under a pile of discarded rags. Vivian called out the find, and they moved on, the timer ticking down mercilessly.

The second piece was a fingerprint on a glass shard. Sparks indicated with a sharp bark, and Denissa quickly secured it in an evidence bag. They were halfway there.

The third and final piece was the hardest to find—a USB stick with critical information. Sparks' nose twitched as he approached a seemingly innocent-looking computer on a desk. He sat down, indicating his find, and Denissa's heart soared.

They had done it. Sparks had passed with flying colors. As they left the warehouse, the applause from their colleagues filled the air, mixing with the barking of other K9s. Denissa felt a warmth spread through her chest, a feeling of belonging and achievement that had been missing since Jason's death.

Back in the office, Karen looked up from her work, a rare smile on her face. "Congratulations," she said. "Looks like you've got yourself a new partner."

Denissa grinned. "Looks like it."

Vivian leaned against the desk, her eyes sparkling. "And maybe now we can finally catch that sneaky thief."

The three of them shared a look of determination. With Sparks on their side, they were ready to tackle any challenge that came their way. The ghost burglar of Precinct 33 didn't stand a chance.

Over the next few days, the team hit the streets, working tirelessly to gather intel on the elusive thief. They interviewed witnesses, studied security footage, and pieced together a profile of the suspect. The burglar was clever, always staying one step ahead of them, but they were closing in.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the skyline, a call came in—another burglary, this time at a high-end electronics store. Denissa and Vivian jumped into their unmarked car, Sparks in the backseat, ready for action. The store's alarm was still blaring when they arrived, the flashing lights painting the night in an eerie red and blue pattern.

They approached the scene with caution, Sparks on a short leash. The store was a mess, shelves toppled over, glass crunching under their boots. Denissa's heart raced as she whispered commands to Sparks. This was his first real case, and she knew that the pressure was on.

Suddenly, Sparks' tail stiffened. He had picked up a scent. He pulled her towards the back of the store, to a shattered window. The thief had made their escape, but not without leaving something behind. Sparks pawed at a scrap of fabric caught on the jagged glass.

Denissa's eyes widened. This was it. Their first real clue. She turned to Vivian, her voice filled with excitement. "Looks like we've got ourselves a suspect."

Vivian's skepticism had disappeared, replaced by admiration. "You've done it," she said. "You've turned him into a detective."

Their partnership was official. Denissa, Vivian, and Sparks had become the unstoppable trio of Precinct 33. As they left the crime scene, the sound of sirens in the distance a testament to the relentless pace of their job, Denissa felt a renewed sense of purpose. They would catch this burglar, and together, they would make their precinct a safer place. And maybe, just maybe, the joy of victory would help to heal the wounds of the past.

The case grew more complex with each passing day. The burglar's MO was always the same—quick, clean, and impossible to trace. But Sparks' uncanny ability to pick up scents that others couldn't see meant that they had a weapon in their arsenal that could change the game. They followed the trail through the city, the scent leading them into the heart of a shadowy underworld where no one was what they seemed.

One night, while staking out a potential target, they spotted a figure dressed all in black, moving with the grace of a cat. Sparks growled low in his throat, his eyes locked on the shadowy figure. This was it. The moment they had been waiting for.

Denissa's hand hovered over her gun, her heart pounding. She whispered into her radio, "We've got eyes on the suspect."

Vivian's voice was calm and steady. "Hold tight. Backup is on the way."

They waited, the tension stretching taut between them, until the moment was just right. And then, with a bark that echoed through the silent streets, Sparks launched into action. The chase was on.

The figure in black bolted, and Sparks streaked after them, a blur of fur and muscle. Denissa and Vivian sprinted in pursuit, their flashlights bobbing wildly, casting jittering shadows across the pavement. The thief was fast, but Sparks was faster. They could hear the thud of his paws closing the gap.

They turned a corner, and the suspect's path led them to a dilapidated warehouse. The door hung open, and without hesitation, Sparks dashed inside. Denissa and Vivian exchanged a quick look, then followed, their weapons drawn.

The warehouse was a labyrinth of shadows and discarded machinery. Sparks' bark grew louder, more insistent. They could hear the clatter of the thief's footsteps up ahead. Denissa's pulse was racing now, her eyes scanning the gloom for any sign of movement.

And then, just as they thought they had him cornered, the lights flickered on. They had walked into a trap. The thief was nowhere to be seen, but they were surrounded by a group of armed men, all wearing the same black outfits. The leader stepped forward, a sneer on his face.

"Looks like you've got more than just a dog on your hands," he said, gesturing to his cohorts with a smug nod.

Denissa's eyes narrowed, her grip on her gun tightening. "You're going to regret that," she said, her voice steady.

Vivian stepped up beside her, her own weapon at the ready. "Let's not forget who's on the right side of the law here."

The stand-off was tense, the air thick with the promise of violence. Sparks stood between them, his eyes flicking from one threat to the next, his hackles raised.

But then, from the corner of her eye, Denissa saw a flicker of movement. It was the thief, trying to slip away unnoticed. Without a moment's hesitation, she gave Sparks the command to pursue. The dog shot off like an arrow, taking out the legs of one of the men in a blur of teeth and fur.

The element of surprise gone, the fight was on. Denissa and Vivian moved in sync, taking down the criminals with a fluidity borne of years of training and a deep trust in each other. Sparks' barks grew fainter as he chased the thief deeper into the warehouse.

The final confrontation was inevitable. The thief was cornered, their path blocked by a towering pile of boxes. Sparks was at their feet, growling, ready to pounce.

Denissa stepped closer, her gun aimed squarely at the thief's chest. "It's over," she said firmly. "You're coming with us."

The thief's eyes darted around, desperate. And then, in a move that none of them could have anticipated, they jumped, using the boxes as a makeshift ladder to climb to the rafters. Sparks leapt, his teeth snapping just shy of their ankle.

Denissa and Vivian watched, stunned, as the thief swung from beam to beam, moving with the agility of a gymnast. It was as if the warehouse had become their playground, and they were simply spectators to their acrobatic escape.

But Sparks wasn't about to let them get away. With a bound that seemed to defy gravity, he leaped onto the nearest beam, following the thief's path. Denissa's heart was in her throat as she watched her dog perform feats she never knew he was capable of.

The chase continued, a dizzying dance above the concrete floor. The thief was fast, but Sparks was relentless. And in the end, it was the dog's superior instincts that won out. With a final leap, Sparks tackled the thief to the ground, his teeth clamping down on their arm.

The thief howled in pain, and the fight was over. The criminals were secured, the evidence collected, and the ghost burglar was finally in custody.

As they emerged from the warehouse, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins, the precinct erupted in a chorus of cheers and claps. The officers who had responded to the backup call had gathered around, watching the unfolding scene with a mix of amazement and relief. Denissa's heart swelled with pride as she petted Sparks, his tongue lolling out in a tired pant. He had come through, not just as a trained K9 but as a true member of their team.

The media had caught wind of the dramatic arrest and were already setting up their cameras outside the precinct. Denissa knew that Sparks would be the star of the show, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that he had proven himself.

In the days that followed, the story of the ghost burglar's capture was all over the news. The public was fascinated by the unorthodox team that had brought the elusive criminal to justice—the determined detective, her sharp-witted partner, and the heroic K9 with a tragic backstory. The precinct was flooded with calls of congratulations and requests for interviews, but Denissa remained focused on the job at hand.

Sparks' success had brought a new energy to Precinct 33. The officers had a renewed sense of camaraderie, and Denissa felt a kinship with Vivian that went beyond their professional partnership. They had faced danger together, and come out on the other side, stronger and more united.

But amidst the celebration, there was a shadow that lingered. The thief had revealed under interrogation that they were part of a larger network, a ring of criminals who had been operating under the radar for years. The realization that there was more to the case than they had initially thought sent a chill down Denissa's spine.

The next case came quickly, a series of arsons that had the city on edge. The fires were deliberate, calculated, and always left a cryptic message at the scene. As they delved into the new investigation, the team knew that they were dealing with a mind that was as sharp as it was twisted.

Denissa and Vivian studied the charred remnants of the latest crime scene, their eyes scanning the blackened wreckage for clues. Sparks worked alongside them, his nose to the ground, searching for something that would lead them to the arsonist.

As they pieced together the puzzle, a pattern began to emerge. The fires were all linked to a series of unsolved cases from years before—cases that had been Jason's before he was killed in the line of duty. The realization hit Denissa like a ton of bricks. This wasn't just another crime to solve; it was personal.

The arsonist was taunting them, playing a deadly game of cat and mouse that dug deep into the heart of Precinct 33. The team's determination grew with each new blaze, the desire to bring this criminal to justice burning just as brightly as the fires they left behind.

And as they stood in the smoldering ruins of what was once a family home, Denissa felt a resolve settle in her bones. They would catch this monster, no matter the cost. For Jason, for the city, and for each other, they would not rest until the streets were safe again.

The fire crackled and popped around them, the acrid scent of burned wood and plastic filling their nostrils. Sparks sat at her side, his eyes focused on her, his tail thumping gently against the ground. It was time to get to work.

Together, they would face this new challenge, this new chapter in their lives. And as they did, Denissa knew that she had found a new family in Vivian and Sparks, a bond forged in the heat of adversity. They were more than just partners; they were a team, and nothing would ever break them apart.

Their first lead in the arson case came from an anonymous tip—a whispered voice on the other end of the line, hinting at a connection between the fires and a disbanded gang from the area's past. The name "Embers" sent a shiver down Denissa's spine. She had heard the whispers about them before, about the fires they used to set to control their territory. But they had been gone for years, or so everyone thought.

They worked tirelessly, following every thread, digging into the ashes of the past. Sparks' training was put to the test as they canvassed the streets, searching for any scent that could lead them to the Embers. The nights grew longer, the stakes higher with each new fire. The city held its breath, waiting for the flames to be extinguished by the unstoppable trio of Denissa, Vivian, and Sparks.

The first break came from an unexpected source—a former gang member turned informant. He spoke of a new leader, someone who had learned from the old ways, but with a twisted, more sinister agenda. The Embers had risen from the ashes, and their reign of terror was just beginning.

The informant's intel pointed them to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city. It was a place where the shadows grew thick, and the whispers of the past seemed to echo through the corroded steel beams. The three of them approached with caution, their eyes and ears peeled for any sign of their quarry.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of gasoline and burnt metal. The floor was littered with remnants of past fires—a macabre trophy room of destruction. Sparks' tail went stiff as he picked up a fresh scent, one that sent a jolt of adrenaline through Denissa's body. They weren't just looking at the aftermath; they were walking into the arsonist's lair.

The sound of a match striking the ground was the only warning they had before the world around them erupted in flames. The arsonist had anticipated their arrival and had set a trap, one that could consume them all. Sparks barked furiously, the sound cutting through the roar of the fire as he raced towards the source of the danger.

Denissa and Vivian were hot on his heels, their hearts pounding in unison with the crackling of the fire. The heat was intense, the smoke choking, but they didn't waver. This was their chance to end the nightmare that had been plaguing their city, to honor Jason's memory by bringing his old enemies to justice.

The figure emerged from the flames, a dark silhouette against the inferno. Sparks lunged, but the arsonist was ready, a wicked smile playing across their face as they dodged the attack. Denissa fired her gun, the shot ringing out over the fire's roar, but the target vanished like a phantom.

The chase was on, a deadly dance through the fiery maze. They could feel the heat on their faces, the flames licking at their heels as they pushed forward. Sparks' training had prepared him for this moment, his instincts sharper than ever before.

As they closed in, the arsonist made a final desperate move. They grabbed a nearby container, its contents sloshing—gasoline. The smell of death and destruction grew stronger as they realized the arsonist's plan—to take them all down in a blaze of glory.

Denissa's eyes met Vivian's, and in that moment, she knew. They had to end this now, before the fire consumed everything. With a roar of determination, they charged together, Sparks at the forefront, a living embodiment of justice and protection.

The arsonist swung the container, but Denissa was faster. Her tackle sent them both sprawling, the gasoline arcing through the air to splash harmlessly against the floor. The fight was brutal, a clash of wills and strength in the belly of the beast they had created.

Sparks took the opportunity, his teeth sinking into the arsonist's arm. The struggle grew fiercer, but Denissa and Vivian had the upper hand. With a final, desperate effort, they managed to cuff the criminal, dragging them to safety as the fire department burst through the doors.

The flames were brought under control, the danger passed. The arsonist was caught, the Embers' reign of terror over. But as the three of them stood there, coughing and sooty, they knew that the scars of this case would remain.

Denissa leaned down to Sparks, her voice hoarse from the smoke. "Good boy," she whispered, her eyes shining with tears. "You did it."

Vivian offered her a hand up, a rare moment of vulnerability in her stern demeanor. "We did it," she said, her voice tight with emotion. They looked at each other, their eyes reflecting the flickering light of the dying flames. Denissa took her hand, feeling the strength in Vivian's grip. They had faced the fire together and come out the other side.

The arsonist was taken away in cuffs, the smugness wiped from their face by the fear of the flames they had tried to control. As the firefighters worked to extinguish the last of the inferno, the media circled like vultures, eager for a piece of the story. Denissa felt a surge of pride for her team, for the trust and loyalty they had built in such a short time.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of paperwork and interrogations, but the city breathed easier knowing the Embers were behind bars. Denissa took comfort in the routine of it all—the familiar rhythm of the precinct, the banter with her colleagues, the quiet moments at home with her children and Sparks. But the victory was bittersweet, a reminder of what they had lost and how far they had come.

One evening, as the sun set over the city, she found herself standing on the roof of the precinct, Sparks at her side. The cool breeze ruffled his fur, and she watched as he surveyed the landscape with his keen eyes. She knew he could still smell the faint traces of smoke that lingered in the air.

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out to find a text from Vivian. "Ready for dinner?" it read.

Denissa nodded, smiling to herself. They had plans to celebrate their victory, to toast to the future and maybe, just maybe, explore the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface since the moment they had met.

"Come on, boy," she said, patting Sparks' head. "Let's go home."

The three of them descended the stairs, their steps echoing in the quiet halls of Precinct 33. As they stepped into the night, Denissa felt a newfound sense of belonging, of purpose. Her heart was still tender from the loss of Jason, but the love and support of her new partner and her loyal K9 filled the void with warmth.

The case was closed, but the legacy of the Ghost Burglar and the Embers remained, a reminder of the darkness that lurked in the shadows of their city. Yet, with Sparks by her side, Denissa knew that she was ready to face whatever came next. They were a team, bound by more than just a badge and a leash. They were family.

And as they drove home, the city lights reflecting in Sparks' eyes, she couldn't help but feel that they were just getting started.