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Investigations (Policewoman & Relix)

Policewoman

Banned
Banished
Joined
Nov 14, 2010
Las Vegas. A city best known for glamourous casinos and pretty girls. A city were someone could party all night and not remember a thing. With all of the money and glamour in the town, there of course needs to be crime, by people who want that money for themselves. As a homicide detective with the LVMPD, Cassie had seen more of this side of the city than most.

Today was a day when it seemed like the worst had come to play. She had just been sitting in her office, filling out some paperwork, when the ring of her cell phone filled the air. Apparently some poor sod had been found dead and they wanted her to come take a look. A sigh came from her lips as she shoved her phone into her pocket and rose to her feet. Cassie was dressed in the same clothing as most of the detectives, in a pair of black slacks and a white blouse, her . A black suitcoat matching her pants lay over the back of her chair. A Sig Sauer P229 sat in a paddle holster on her right hip. A pair of handcuffs and a spare magazine holder also adorned her belt, and someone with good eyes could notice evidence of an ankle holster on the inside of her left ankle. A badge was clipped to her waistband 3 inches forward from her sidearm. Her long light brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail to keep it out of her deep blue eyes.

It took under 15 minutes for her unmarked Chevrolet Malibu to take her to the crime scene, a residential home in the outskirts of the city. The casinos rose in one direction, with the others ending in the sand of the Mojave Desert. After showing her badge, the uniformed officer let her into the crime scene. The victim was a female, early 20's. The owners of the house were out of town, and with the fingerprints all cut off and no wallet to be found, her identity was unknown. There were several knife cuts over her body, including one to her throat through which her tongue was pulled in what is called a "Colombian necktie." A neighbor had called when she heard screams coming from the house, which was supposed to be empty, and when the officer arrived, he found the victim dead. The killer was gone, and it didn't take long for a few officers to arrive, along with a number of forensic investigators who were searching for fingerprints or any other evidence. Cassie approached an officer who wore the label insignias of a sergeant and asked, "So, what have they found so far." The sergeant looked at her and shrugged. "Not much, yet. Whoever did this knew what he was doing."
 
The three hour flight on the private jet was spent going over the crime scene that had been forwarded to her department almost immediately, when all the information was tallied together, of course. The vibrations coming from her cell phone caused the device to skitter over to the edge, Ericka's left hand quickly moved to catch it from falling off the table. Thumb flipping the device open before pulling it up to her ear, "Yeah?" The female answered, there was no need to chime with a 'Hello', only her agency knew her work cell's number - wouldn't be anyone else.

"Eh," The female chimed, dropping the manila folder to the table before shaking her right wrist, attempting to get the small silver head of the watch to be at the top of her wrist. "I should be landing in ten, at the crime scene in twenty." Ericka was already late - the information getting to her department a day later then the actual crime. It held similarities to the serial killer that the female had been chasing since receiving her first assignment seven years ago. The only new addition has been the 'Columbian Necktie', that coming into play the past few murders. The previous one in Los Angeles where they had caught the wrong guy and the one before that in Seattle, Washington.


Stepping out of the marked police vehicle, the male driver had been sent to pick her up from the airport to give her an express ride there. Didn't stop him from send a few flirtatious compliments her way, which in turn almost had her reply with, 'Sorry, I'm into women.' since it was the truth. Pulling the chain around her head, adjusting the light brown hair from being trapped by the chain that held her Federal Bureau of Investigation Shield around her neck, unluckily rest against her chest. The large black shades covered the deep sea blue eyes, buttoning up a single button on the black suit jacket before beginning to walk up the sidewalk. Left hand moving to pull the holster to her Glock 17 off of her hip a bit, out from under the flap of the jacket. This killer, infamously dubbed 'The Tammy Killer', lured their victims into homes before viciously stabbing them to death. Females, ages unknown since they stripped them of any identification as well as shaving, or cutting, the tips of their fingers off. Estimation puts it around twenty to twenty-seven year old females, normally Blonde; but, there has been a Brunette a time or two.

Walking up to the door that had been sealed off, Ericka Castio ducked under the police tape before bringing her hand to her jacket. Placing the fabric of her jacket on the knob before turning it. The detectives would be back soon enough, didn't want to leave her set of fingerprints to make them believe it was her who did it. "Definitely seems like our guy. . . " Ericka murmured softly to herself, slowly spinning around the entrance to the room. The killer would stab their victim immediately when entering the home before forcing them up the stairs to the bedroom, rare was it to be a rape-murder. Killer didn't seem to get off on sexual acts rather then the vicious murder. Spinning around in a circle, her attention was brought up by a few cops walking up the sidewalk. Few having their hands on their guns. Bringing up her left hand, Ericka pulled the shield up off of her chest, "Ericka Castio, F.B.I."
 
When Cassie was told that a fed was coming down to the scene, she was visibly unhappy with it. Most cops knew the old joke about the dog competition; four dogs, one from the DEA, one from the ATF, one from Customs, and one from the FBI were given bones for finding contraband. After the first three dogs did their jobs, the FBI dog came in, stole the items, and called a press conference to take credit for the seizures. The only people in law enforcement who seemed to like the FBI were rookies and themselves.

Cassie had spoken with most of the forensic investigators there, as well as the officer who had found the body. Evidence was slim. It appeared that the killer had even banged up the inside of the victim's mouth to prevent the use of dental records to find her identity. It looked like this was going to be one of those cases that resulted in more than one sleepless night. No wonder it had been years since she had been in a relationship.

The detective was pulling a pair of latex gloves over her hands to look at the body when she heard a male stop dusting a windowsill for fingerprints to mumble that the FBI agent had arrived. As the detective in charge of the investigation, it seemed like Cassie would have to deal with her. With a sigh, Cassie approached the agent, a false smile on her lips. "Good afternoon, Miss Castio. I'm Detective Cassandra King. I'm the investigator in charge of this case."
 
"Nice to meet you, Miss King," Ericka replied, nodding once before turning to look at the scene a bit more. The female might be from the Bureau, but, there would be no stealing of someone else's thunder going on. Agent Castio had one goal in mind; catch this fucker and put him behind bars. . . possibly six feet under. Something that he was well more then deserving of. The crime scene held similar M.O. to those of 'The Tammy Killer', couldn't help but think that they had made their way down to Vegas.

Clearing her throat softly, her attention moved back to Miss King, the lead investigator, it seemed. "Have you heard of the Tammy Killer, Miss King?" Ericka asked, tone a bit firm. It was a hot commodity at one point, a very viral case that sparked like wildfire several years ago. It died down the past couple of years, but, seemed that this 'Tammy Killer' was ready and raring to charge their way back into the public's eye once again.

"This crime scene shares a lot of similarities to the recent killing out in Los Angeles," The female now going off on a small ramble to herself more so then to Cassandra King. Right hand moving to push the large sunglasses to the top of her head, "Is the body still upstairs or has your people moved it yet?"
 
When the agent mentioned the 'Tammy Killer', Cassie paused for a moment before nodding. Supposedly there was one person who had knocked off more than a few people over the past few years, and had never been caught. It was over the news once, but her memory of it was fuzzy. Mostly 20 year old blondes, lured into a house and killed, no identification. It certainly did sound like a match to this one. That would certainly explain why the feds are so concerned about this. "Yeah, I remember when it was on the news."

"The body is still up there. I was just about to take a closer look when you arrived. The ME is going to be here in a few minutes, so if you want to take a glance at the body, you better do it soon." She added with a shrug. "I don't expect to find much on it, the killer seemed to have done a pretty good job at keeping us from finding out who our Jane Doe is, and if it is this 'Tammy Killer' the chances are even lower."
 
Erika gave off a half-shrug combined with a lean of her head, one of those 'I'm not too sure about that' shrug. "Could I get a pair of gloves, please?" Extending her hand out to someone, only to come across her body when someone approached her from the left, feeling the investigator slap the latex gloves into her palm. Reluctant this bunch was of her being there. "Yes, our Jane Doe definitely has a less chance of being identified without prints, an even less chance now that the 'Tammy Killer' might have their involvement in this case."

Slipping the latex gloves onto her hands, Ericka looked around the initial crime scene a bit more before turning up to the stairs, "You don't mind if I go up do you?" Of course they did, she was a Fed; a Fed on their crime scene. They minded quite a bit. "Never know, this killer has been scott-free for the past seven years. Everyone is due for a slip up, neighbors hear anything? Could be a cause to rush through and not enjoy the kill." A soft shrug passing through the Federal Agent's shoulder, beginning to walk up the stairs to the actual crime scene. "How did he get in? Was there any markings of a break-in or was that clean?"
 
"You certainly seem to know a good amount about this 'Tammy Killer'. Have you been after him for a few years or something like that?" Cassie remarked. There seemed to be some sort of unspoken rule that the forensic investigators weren't to talk to the fed. They seemed to be avoiding looking at her, like she was some sort of plague victim coming to interfere with their lives. Cassie probably would have done something similar if she hadn't been told she was to be working with Erika.

"Nope. My supervisor said to give you free reign over this scene. He seems to think that you are the only one with a chance of catching this guy." Cassie commented with a slight shrug of her shoulders. It wouldn't be too far off to say that she was their best chance. "We have some uniforms canvassing the neighborhood, asking if anyone heard or saw anything. So far we have nothing, but we'll keep looking." The detective replied. Cassie rose her hands in a way to say that she was aware, and then one of the men turned and spoke. "We haven't been able to find any signs of forced entry so far. No marks on the doors from being wrenched open or anything like that. Just the window that the responding officer broke to get in." The man mumbled, still not making eye contact with the agent.
 
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