The Maze

Copyright © 2016 by Delilah Alvares

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of

1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or

transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval

system without the prior written permission of the author. All characters

appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or

dead, is purely coincidental.

Editor: Jeremy Soldevilla

Cover design: MJC Imageworks

ISBN 978-1-938985-93-5

ebook ISBN 978-1-938985-95-9

Published by

Christopher Matthews Publishing

www.christophermatthewspub.com

Boston

Printed in the United States of America

To my mother who loved reading mystery novels,

and dreamed of being a writer.

My aunt for her deep rooted faith

and belief in me all along the way.

And, to every cop and homicide detective

dedicating their lives to being the voices

to those who have been robbed of their own.

A ckn o w ledg m en t s

A debt of gratitude to the editors at Christopher Matthews and Jeremy

Soldevilla for critically, yet patiently navigating through the manuscript with

grave care and attention to detail.

To Rachael Everson for all the long days and stretched nights of tedious

effort towards upgrading and polishing the rough and lengthy manuscript to

a level that makes us proud.

To Wendy Dunn for critiquing and editing the very first draft of the

lengthy manuscript, line by line and guiding me, every step of the way.

To Judy Caleb for being the first eyes on the first draft. Without you, this

book wouldn’t have seen the light of the day.

To Tania Rodriguez, for picking on every little detail of the manuscript.

And for having faith in it, even at times when I ran short.

To my mother the late Debra Rodriguez, whose love for writing got me

here . . . This one’s for you, mother.

And to all those who believed in me as much as they did in this book—

Here’s to us.

When life pulls the trigger on you, you’ll see that you’re not

just a survivor, you’re a warrior . . . and someday, there will

be a ray of light so strong, that it will wipe out all the darkness

and pain you’ve ever known. Until then, know in your heart

that everything will be okay and that there’s always someone

to make sure of it.

O N E

9:00 a.m. Kate Rodgers’ Penthouse, New Jersey

NYPD DETECTIVE JENNIFER CAMPBELL steps out of her car as another

police vehicle pulls up, joining the other three already parked along the

available strip of sidewalk. Taking small strides with her lean, long legs,

wearing box-heeled boots, fitted dark jeans and a long overcoat covering her

blouse, this brown-eyed damsel walks toward the apartment complex,

pulling on latex gloves as she goes. Her shoulder-length, copper brown hair

perfectly frame her face and sharp jaw line. Not a strand out of place, even

though she let it hang down loose. Skin so fair, makes it hard to believe she’s

from Brooklyn, not Antarctica.

Red and blue lights reflect in the glass before her. The building towers

above, and at the top, the body awaits her. A young cop points her upstairs.

Everything around her is a clue, so she scans as she walks—the doorman

looks distraught, shaking his head as a young officer interviews him.

Up the elevator, past more police and yellow tape, she’s ushered to the

penthouse bedroom.

There were no visible signs of forced entry from the front of the house

and the windows were locked. Security cameras lining the upper deck.

Maybe they caught a glimpse of something?

The officers on duty inspect the area around the body, snapping

photographs of the blood stained carpet and wounds on the woman. They

study the bedroom like a fine painting, looking out for anything unusual.

Dr. Sera Turner, forensic specialist, has her blonde hair rolled up into a

bun as she inspects the body, scribbling details in her notebook about the

young woman sprawled on the floor in designer lingerie. Sera’s tired, green

eyes and unusual, unenergetic attitude display the lack of a good night’s

sleep, or rather the lack of her morning coffee.

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2

"Who’s this?" asks Jennifer. Her accent a tad more polished than that of

a regular New Yorker.

Detective Mario Lawrence, the privileged golden retriever of the

precinct, replies, "Kate Rodgers, thirty-two, single, fashion designer." He’s

busy inspecting marks on the wall—round groves that look as though they

were punched in the drywall during an altercation. "Her body was

discovered in the closet this morning by one of the staff members"

Jennifer looks around at the humongous bedroom—bay windows

overlooking the skyline and Hudson River and a plush, expensive, yet

disheveled, duvet cover over the bed.

"Successful fashion designer."

Detective Steve Harper, the final member of the trio, mutters in his

rather hoarse voice, "Husband’s money."

While Detectives Campbell and Lawrence may have had an upscale

upbringing, Detective Harper was raised in a four-by-four in the Bronx by a

single Italian mother who struggled to make ends meet. Perhaps he was the

odd man out.

Sera turns sharply away from the body and says, "No. She's a brand

name. Well, was a brand name. I’ve got two of her dresses. And believe me,

they weren’t cheap."

"Let me guess, the dress you wore last night was one?" Steve says, with a

grin.

Sera looks at him with one eyebrow raised, and says, "No. I was going

out with you, so I chose a clearance dress."

The confident grin slides from Steve’s face. Mario’s shoulders rise as a

small eruption of laughter bubbles forth.

There’s the reason for Steve and Sera’s crappy attitude this morning,

Jennifer realizes. Sera had always fancied Steve, as he did her. But the two of

them had completely different ideas of a relationship, and neither was

willing to compromise on it.

Taking out her small notepad, wrinkled and worn around the edges,

Jennifer asks Sera, "So, back to the case. What do we know about the body?"

"She was stabbed through the rib cage, straight into the heart," says

Sera, referencing the stab wound in the woman’s chest. "From the look of it,

I’d say that a five-inch blade entered between the sternum and the fourth

rib. The marks on her neck indicate she was choked or held by her neck."

The Maze

3

Jennifer bends close to observe the neck marks. The puckered skin

formed a purpling ring around her thin neckline. Was it a rope, or a cord? A

rope could indicate premeditation, but a cord . . .

"Any idea what made these wounds on her neck?"

"No," Sera responds. "But I'll know more once I get the body to the lab."

"Time of death?"

"Based on her temp, I’d say sometime earlier this morning. Like I said,

I’ll have a better reading when I’m back at the lab."

Turning to Steve, Jennifer asks, "Do you have a murder weapon?"

"No, not yet. But we found her cell phone. It was under the couch in the

living room. It's pretty busted up, but it's Kate's, that’s for sure." He hands

her a crunched up iPhone—the glass shattered, screen only half lit.

Holding the damaged cell phone, Jennifer wonders if the murder

could’ve happened in the living room, after which the body was placed

upstairs in the bedroom closet.

"She probably tried calling for help, but maybe there was a struggle, and

her phone slipped out of her hands and slid under the couch. Killer must

have missed it."

Jennifer notices one set of bloody footprints beside the body. "Are these

from whoever found the body?"

"Yes," Mario says.

Stepping out of the bedroom and toward the stairway, Jennifer looks for

any further sign of a blood trail. The light cream rug is clean; not a single

drop of blood or the slightest outline of a footprint.

"If the murder happened in the living room, and the body was

transported up to the bedroom, why isn’t there a blood trail? There isn’t

even a trace of splatter around the place."

Looking up at Steve, she says, "Check the living room. Be precise" She

hands him Kate’s cell phone. "Also, try getting this phone back together.

Let’s see what we can get out of it."

Phone in hand, Steve heads downstairs.

Jennifer notices another security camera placed outside the bedroom.

"Mario, get me yesterday’s footage from all the cameras."

"Those cameras don’t work."

"What? None of them?" she asks.

Mario shakes his head and shrugs.

"These cameras are only up for show?"

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4

"Have you spoken with everyone who lives or works here?" Jennifer

asks.

Mario looks at his notepad and says, "The house staff, the guards, and

her sisters all claim they weren’t home yesterday. They were at their condo

on Coney Island."

"What about the neighbors?" asks Jennifer, "maybe they heard or saw

something?"

"Uniforms are working on that now," Mario says.

He then leads Jennifer out to the living room to have a word with the

woman that discovered Kate’s body, Hilda Pereira, one of Kate’s house staff.

The elderly woman has a strong frame withered by grief. She rings her hands

in tight circles.

"Mrs. Pereira, I’m terribly sorry for your loss," says Jennifer in the same

soft voice she’s used so many times. "Do you mind if I ask you some

questions?"

Mrs. Pereira shakes her head.

"Where was everyone last night?"

"We were all at the condo," she answers, looking at Mario.

"Who else lives or works here?"

"Melissa and Diana—Kate’s sisters, and the house staff—Allan, Greg,

Bobby, Mike, Sarah, and me," says Mrs. Pereira, still wiping away her tears.

"How old are Kate’s sisters?" asks Jennifer.

"Melissa is about twenty-four; she’ll turn twenty-five later this year. And

Diana just turned eleven a couple of months back."

"Eleven?" exclaims Jennifer. "Kate has an eleven year old sister?"

"Diana is . . . deemed medically unfit," Mario briefs Jennifer softly.

"She’s mentally challenged. She grows physically while her mental growth

remains stagnant. So she may be eleven, but she has the intellect of a five

year old."

"So a thirty-two-year-old woman has a biological sister that’s eleven?"

whispers Jennifer in confirmation.

"Evidently," Mario nods.

Turning back to Mrs. Pereira, Jennifer asks, "What about Kate’s

husband?"

"They’re divorced," says Hilda. "About a year ago."

"Was there anyone unaccounted for at the condo yesterday? Did any of

your staff leave?" asks Jennifer.

The Maze

5

"N—wait . . . There was someone. He left in the night. Bobby—Kate's

driver. He was at the condo with us, and later he said he felt unwell and left,"

says Mrs. Pereira.

"What time did Bobby leave the condo?"

"I don’t quite remember. But it was later in the evening," she says,

rubbing her forehead and closing her eyes. Her eyes have red rings around

the edges, puffy and swollen.

"Are you all right?" asks Jennifer.

"I haven’t been feeling too well since this morning," says Hilda, taking a

seat. "It's just . . . I can’t believe this happened. I liked her a lot. We all did . .

. And now she’s gone"

"We’re going to find the person behind this," says Jennifer. "For now,

I’m gonna need you to give me Bobby’s address."

T W O

JENNIFER AND MARIO walk through a deserted alley of the lower East

Side, Harlem.

"What would you do if the person you love was cheating on you?" asks

Mario, trying to keep his polished shoes clean. There’s litter everywhere—

discarded food wrappers and general rubbish. Born and raised around Park

Avenue, his discomfort in the rougher areas of the city is still evident.

With raised eyebrows, Jennifer asks, "Why?"

"Hypothetically speaking," he clarifies.

"Well, I—"

"Do cops get some kind of a discount on murder charges?" he cuts her

short. She holds onto a one-sided smile and exhales sharply.

"Mario, I understand it’s barely a week since your break-up, but your

strategy for holding up doesn’t seem quite healthy. Wanna talk about it?"

With a shrug of his shoulders, he vents. "I’m a good looking cop, with a

good physique, I live in an apartment in Manhattan, thank you Mom and

Dad, and—most importantly—I loved her. What more could she have

possibly wanted? She promised we’d be together forever . . . Seems like her

definition of forever contradicts mine."

With a deep breath, Jennifer says, "You’d been dating Hazel for . . .

what? Three months? Forever is a very long time and only real love can

stand that test. Clearly, this wasn’t it."

"But what if it was, and I screwed it up?" he asks, almost squealing, his

voice hitching up an octave at the end.

"You didn’t screw it up, Mario. She cheated on you, for crying out loud!"

"What if I die a lonely, old man?" he asks, slowing down his steps with a

look of horror.

The Maze

7

Jennifer looks at him with a raised eyebrow, "You’re still a good looking

cop, with a good physique, who owns an apartment in Manhattan. You’re

gonna score way more women than you can imagine," she replies, rolling her

eyes.

A smile sweeps across Mario’s face as he catches up with Jennifer.

"And don’t worry, if anyone breaks your heart again, they’ll have to deal

with me," she says, walking up to the two officers already stationed on site,

directing them to Bobby’s door.

Knocking at the door, Jennifer calls out, "Bobby? NYPD. Open up!"

They wait, but there's no reply.

Just as Mario prepares to knock again, Jennifer notices a man standing

on the front walk with paper bags in his arms, staring at the house.

Jennifer shouts, "Hey, you Bobby?"

The man drops his bags and runs as though firecrackers were sparked at

his heels.

Jennifer rushes after him, yelling, "Get him!"

They run down the sidewalk, bumping into people along the way. The

early lunch rush has just hit the city. The man crosses the road, catching the

tail end of a red light. The light changes, and Jennifer and Mario chase the

man through oncoming traffic to the tune of honking taxis and squealing

brakes. A car comes to a screeching halt as the man runs ahead of it. The

person behind the wheel accelerates again, almost knocking into Jennifer.

But she rolls over the front bumper and continues her chase.

She runs over another vehicle, pounding across the hood to get closer to

the man. As she leaps off, she touches the suspect's jacket with the tip of her

fingers as she jumps off the roof, but an oncoming vehicle swerves between

them.

The man runs off the road, cutting through a sea of foot traffic, and takes

the stairs to the subway, plunging into the New York underground.

Jennifer jumps over the railing of the stairway, landing between several

men in suits, to get herself closer to him. She misses her catch again, and he

descends further. Running through the crowd, Jennifer keeps her target at

focal point.

He takes the next stairway to the street above and runs like the wind.

But the man’s path ends at a metal fence—the area’s under construction . . .

a dead end for him. Still, he begins to climb up.

Jennifer reaches him and draws her gun. "Get down or I'll fire!"

Delilah Alvares

8

He doesn’t seem to notice her threat and continues to climb the fence.

She shoots three feet to his right, her bullet burying itself in a nearby

trash can. He loses his balance and tumbles down to the ground, landing

straight on his ass.

Jennifer pounces on him and holds him down.

Pointing her gun at his right temple, she asks, "Who are you?"

"Okay, okay. I'm Bobby. Bobby Lorre!"

The 54th Precinct, Manhattan

Captain Kevin Lopez slams his phone back onto the receiver with

unnecessary force. He stares at Jennifer for a moment, jaw set.

Jennifer braces for a storm.

With a smile of sarcasm, the captain politely asks, "Who am I?"

Confused by the captain’s question, she answers, "Captain Kevin Lopez."

Captain Lopez continues to smile. "What’s my position out here?"

Still confused, Jennifer answers, "You're in charge of the precinct"

"Then why do you fail to consult me? I'm only informed about your

actions after they are performed."

Suddenly grasping the root of the captain’s annoyance, Jennifer

flounders. "But, sir, I couldn’t let go of that guy. He's our prime suspect. The

only suspect, so far. "

Taking a deep breath, the captain asks Jennifer, "Do your action scenes

always have to have a mega budget?"

"I tried cost cutting today, I swear," replies Jennifer, smiling as a small

apology.

The captain stares at Jennifer, one eyebrow raised, and says, "I got a call

about your performance on the streets today. The damage you caused to

public property . . . " Captain Lopez shakes his head. "The bill will be on my

desk by this afternoon. How do you expect me to keep covering your ass?"

Jennifer feeling trapped, says nothing.

The captain groans loudly and shuffles papers around on his

disorganized desk. "All right, let's hear it."

The case details fall from her mouth, just as they have time and again.

Young, but a seasoned veteran, Jennifer relays the facts as they currently

stand.

The captain shakes his head when he looks at the picture of Kate

Rodgers and the brutal stab wound in her chest.

The Maze

9

"Sexual assault?"

"We’re still waiting for the lab reports on that," says Jennifer.

With a tired sigh, he puts down the forensics images and looks back at

Jennifer. "Given that there was no sign of forced entry, no missing valuables,

an untraceable murder weapon, the fact that the body was left in the

bedroom closet and that the house was cleaned up after the murder, I

wouldn’t be surprised if the killer turns out to be a member of the

household."

"Which is why we couldn’t lose Bobby. He was the only member of the

house AWOL yesterday night," Jennifer says with raised eyebrows and a

smile.

"Duly noted," says the captain sarcastically with a lopsided smile.

Jennifer stands to leave, but before she makes it to the door, he calls her

back in. "A new detective is joining us today."

Jennifer turns around and shrugs.

"Since this is his first case, I’m putting him on your team."

"My team?" she says with shock, coy smile wiped clean.

"Final decision, Campbell."

"But . . . "

"Nothing will make me change my mind. He should be here any moment

now." The captain looks at his watch and then adds, "If you overlook his

flirty banter, I’m sure he’ll make for a great partner."

"Flirty banter? Partner?" Jennifer shouts.

The captain glares at her.

She clears her throat and adds, "Sir, I think I’m fine without a partner.

Detective Harper and Detective Lawrence have my back. Anyway, I don’t

think 'flirty banter’ constitutes a strong, positive characteristic to look for in

a partner."

"Lawrence and Harper will remain a part of your team," assures the

captain, "but Detective Roy Collins will be your assigned partner"

"But, I—"

"Detective Collins might be new, but, from all reports, he is a force to be

reckoned with," says Captain Lopez, opening Collins’ file and flipping

through several reports. "He has some of the best recommendations I've

seen in a long time."

"What if I don’t like him?" Jennifer asks. "What if he doesn’t work how I

do?"

Delilah Alvares

10

"Then you’re just going to have to compromise. Learn to play nicely with

others," replies the captain.

Jennifer walks out of the captain’s office with a plastic smile, banging

the door shut behind her and jostling the thin tin framing. She charges to

her desk.

Steve catches her eye and walks over to her, hands lightly tucked into his

front pockets. "Who's messing with you, chica?" he says, putting on a

Spanish accent. "I’ll kick some ass. Just say the word."

With a smile Jennifer says, "No one better mess with me while you're

around, Steve."

"You got that right," Steve says with a light-hearted chuckle. "Must be

my mob connections."

"You have mob connections?"

"No, but I'm Italian, so people think I do. Once they hear my full name

they usually figure out I’m not full Italian. My mom’s family was from Sicily,

but I grew up here in New York. Never visited or anything. Besides the food,

I know nothing about Italy."

Mario walks up to Jennifer’s desk.

"And here comes Detective Mario Lawrence" announces Steve. "The

most gorgeous, milky-white, green-eyed cop in the precinct!"

"Is that a compliment?" Mario asks.

"Did it sound like an insult?" Steve fires back.

"Anyway," Jennifer intervenes, trying to reorient their banter. "What did

you get on Bobby?" she asks, turning to Mario, who’d just spent the last hour

in an interrogation room with the shaking, little man.

"He’s Kate’s personal driver. He left the condo yesterday at around 9:00

p.m., because he wasn’t feeling well, and I'd say he still isn't. He seems to

have a . . . chronic gas problem."

Jennifer looks at Steve, who offers a shrug, and then stares at Mario,

wondering if she heard him right.

Mario continues in a self-assured tone. "I’ve asked for the interrogation

room to be sprayed."

Steve sniggers.

"So, where did Bobby go once he left the condo?" Jennifer asks. Keeping

the boys in line was always a challenge.

"He claims to have gone straight home. He spent most of the night in his

bathroom," says Mario.

The Maze

11

Steve, unable to control himself any longer, bursts out in laughter. He

tries to control it, turning pink in the process. Mario stares at Steve with a

look of annoyance.

"Then why did he run away from us today?" Jennifer asks.

"Bobby ran because he’d heard about Kate Rodgers’ murder on the news

this morning and freaked out when he saw cops inside his house. He was

arrested as a kid for stealing a car—makes you jittery the rest of your life, I

guess."

"Does he have a valid alibi?" asks Jennifer.

"Yeah, probably his toilet," says Steve, barely containing his chuckle.

"Just so you know," Mario says. "You’re completely starting to tick me

off right now."

"That's enough," Jennifer interjects. "Steve, run a background check on

Detective Roy Collins before he gets here."

"Who's that?" asks Mario.

"New detective. He'll be . . . assisting us on the case," Jennifer scowls.

"In the middle of a case?" Mario asks.

"Captain’s orders," she says with a shrug. "Back to the alibi."

"Checks out. His wife was home with him last night. I’ve spoken to her

over the phone already."

"Let Bobby off the hook for now, but tell him not to leave the city,"

orders Jennifer.

Mario heads towards the interrogation room, grumbling about Steve

under his breath.

Jennifer puts the crime scene pictures of Kate Rodgers on the enormous

whiteboard beside her desk, lining them up beside each other, and jots down

all the facts regarding the murder—perceived time of death, place, position

of the body, witnesses and known suspects. Most of her list is blank, lacking

development. The larger view helps her analyze the case. She calls it her

'murder board.’

The phone on her desk rings.

"Yeah," she says, picking up the marker to write one more detail—or

rather the lack of physical evidence left by the killer. It unnerves her. But no

one is untraceable.

"Another murder, Detective Campbell."

"Tell me."

Jennifer takes down the address.

Delilah Alvares

12

"Only a block away from Kate Rodgers’ house."

"I'll be right there."

T H R E E

THE SECOND VICTIM’S CRIME SCENE—a garbage dumpster around the

corner from Kate's house; full of rotten food scraps and the unwanted

articles of affluent New Jersey residents.

"You’ve got to be kidding me" exclaims Mario with utter disgust.

Holding his nose, Steve places his hand on Mario’s shoulder. "Yeah,

dude, hell of a day for you."

"Guys. Crime scene; show some respect," says Jennifer, pulling on her

gloves as Steve mockingly pats Mario on the shoulder.

Jennifer walks up to the body of the young man. According to the initial

report, he was dumped amongst the garbage, but has now been laid on the

stretcher under Dr. Roland Barkley’s observation, Sera's assistant from the

forensics department. His predominantly unclothed body has been modestly

covered with a sheet.

"Any ID yet?" Jennifer asks as she approaches the stretcher.

"Nope. All I can tell you now is that he was stabbed in the heart and then

dumped in the garbage with very little clothing," says Roland. "You’ll have to

wait until the autopsy is complete for more."

"Stabbed in the heart?" asks Steve.

"Yes, with a five or five-and-a-half inch blade, just between the fourth

rib and the sternum," says Roland, pointing out the position of the wound.

"I may not be too well-versed in forensics, but this sounds like a familiar

story," says Steve, turning to Jennifer with a quizzical brow.

"Same technique used to murder Kate Rodgers," says Jennifer.

"The exact same technique," mutters Mario.

"Did you find the murder weapon?" asks Jennifer, looking at the cops

scanning the dumpster—the poor uniforms sifting through knee-deep trash.

Delilah Alvares

14

"Nothing yet," answers Roland, "except for a torn pair of jeans recovered

from the dumpster. From the bloodstains on them, it wouldn’t be a wild

guess to say it belonged to the victim."

"Any idea what the time of death was?" asks Jennifer.

Roland glances at his notes. "It’s hard to be exact until I get the body to

the lab, but if you want an approximate, I’d say early morning today."

"These murders are connected. But, how?" Jennifer wonders aloud.

"Steve, Mario, help them check the dumpster. We need a wallet, or some

kind of ID."

Steve holds his nose. "You mean, jump in there?"

"We have to identify the body," Jennifer says.

"Come on," says Steve, reluctantly taking a step toward the garbage. He

shuffles his feet side to side like a forlorn child.

Mario steps into the mess, but Steve stops. Mario, submerged to his

knees turns to Steve.

"Why aren't you in here?" Mario chides him.

"It's a better job for you. You’ve acquainted yourself with polluted air

already."

Jennifer stares at Mario and Steve and folds her arms. They fuss like a

couple of chickens.

Steve stares back at her and says, "I’ve got a very good sense of smell.

Don’t make me go in there."

"What is this, kindergarten? In there, now!" She orders and leans

against a potted tree growing alongside the road—watching the two men

fumble around and surveying the surrounding area.

Steve and Mario wade into the garbage with disgust on their faces while

flies circle around the half-full food cans, vegetable and fruit peels and

dozens of unidentifiable items, rotten too far past recognition.

"Wasn’t there a system of separating wet waste from dry waste

implemented?" Steve asks Mario as his foot makes a sucking sound beneath

him.

"It sure is. If only people would abide by the law, it would make our job a

hell of a lot easier," Mario replies, covering his nose with the collar of his

shirt.

"Or we’d be out of a job," Steve offers with a shrug of his shoulders.

Mario nods. "Point taken."

The Maze

15

Just then, another cop unexpectedly emerges out of the dumpster

parallel to Mario and Steve’s.

The men, seasoned police, both jump, and Mario loses his balance. Steve

quickly gets hold of his jacket and stops his fall.

"Thanks, man," says Mario, shaking his head as he looks back at the pile

of trash he almost landed in.

Steve nods and turns to the cop. "What the hell are you doing in the

trash?"

The cop holds up a wallet as an answer.

Steve takes the wallet and jumps out of the dumpster. He runs toward

Jennifer. She holds up her hand to stop him from traipsing through the

blood trace on the lawn. "Our victim was stabbed here," she says, pointing to

the blood, "and then taken to the dumpster."

"You’ve got a blood trail?" asks Steve, looking around as Mario catches

up.

"Yeah, right here near the tree. It leads straight to the dumpster. You

got a wallet?"

"Yeah. We didn’t really have to do the dirty work though" Steve flaunts a

pearly white smile.

Taking the wallet from Steve, Jennifer says, "And you guys call

yourselves homicide detectives. Didn't you get a job description before you

signed up?"

Jennifer opens the wallet. The cash is still in there, which immediately

rules out the theory of a mugging gone wrong. She pulls out the victim’s

license. The face of the man on the New York ID and the cadaver before her

are a match—though one wears a smile and the other a white sheet.

"Adam Matthews," she reads. "Age twenty."

His address is not close by. What brought you over here, Adam?

"His apartment is in Brooklyn," Jennifer says, handing the license and

the wallet to Steve.

"That’s about an hour and forty-five minutes of travel," Mario quickly

calculates.

Jennifer scans the body. "Any signs of struggle?" she asks Roland.

Roland shows Jennifer bruises and scratches over the man’s body, along

the length of his forearms and back, but he’s uncertain whether they

occurred during the attack or upon impact with the dumpster.

"And, who found the body?" asks Jennifer.

Delilah Alvares

16

Roland simply points to a man talking with two uniforms. "He works for

the local municipality. He was on his regular rounds, clearing the

dumpsters. Saw the body when he went to pick up the trash. "

"All right, get the body to the lab," says Jennifer. She leaves the crime

scene along with Mario and Steve, heading back to the precinct.

The 54th Precinct

As Jennifer sits at her desk, Mario and Steve walk up with a file. Their

collective attention is diverted to the front door, as it swings open wildly,

banging into the wall. A man wearing sneakers, jeans, and a hooded jacket

strolls into the precinct with a casual attitude. He walks with an overly

masculine style, forward shoulder, running his fingers through his spiked

hair. He smiles flirtatiously at the female cops near the door, and walks

straight into Captain Lopez’s office without a second look around.

Mario mutters, "What was that?"

Steve mumbles, "Detective Roy Collins."

Stunned, Jennifer looks at Steve with disbelief. He hands over the file,

and she flips through it frantically.

"We have to work with this clown?" Mario groans.

Steve puts his hands on his hips. "Unfortunately, I don’t think we have a

choice."

"Disorderly conduct, traffic violations, resisting arrest," Jennifer

mutters, taking an initial glance at the file, skimming it for a broad

generalization of the man that is to be her new partner. Still scanning

Collins’ file, Jennifer feels the urge to use the mountain of 'sick leave’ she's

accumulated. What was Captain thinking?

The captain comes out of his office, a pleasant grin across his face, and

calls out to Jennifer.

Reluctantly, she walks up to Captain Lopez.

"Your new partner," he says, loosely introducing her to Detective Collins,

who stands by with a condescending smirk. "Get him up to speed."

"Really?"

Collins puffs out his chest like a peacock and says, "It will be an honor to

work with you, Detective Jennifer Campbell." The use of her full title sounds

slimy coming out of his mouth.

The Maze

17

Jennifer imagines whacking the hell out of him with a frying pan. One of

the big ones, maybe even cast iron? She closes her eyes and takes a deep

breath.

"I’ve heard so much about you," Collin’s continues, looking Jennifer up

and down. "You’re the youngest cop to make detective—male or female—and

you have the highest rate of case closure. I couldn’t be more excited to be on

your team, let alone your partner. I'm so eager to learn from you."

The captain looks at Jennifer with a smile. She responds with a sour,

tight grin—one that hides clenched teeth.

Sensing her building annoyance, he says, "This is a good partnership,

Jennifer. Make it work."

Looking at Collins’ wide eyes and coy smile, Jennifer says "Captain, can

I talk to you for a minute . . . in private?"

"Nope," he says, popping the 'p.’ Captain Lopez goes back into his office,

shutting and locking the door behind him.

Collins stands in front of Jennifer, waiting with an enormous, victorious

smile smeared across his jawline.

Jennifer walks back to her desk.

Sitting, she notices Collins has followed her. Mario and Steve

immediately give Jennifer a wide berth, retreating to their respective desks.

Cowards.

Collins sits opposite, staring at Jennifer with that same huge smile. She

picks up a file and pretends to go through it while Collins continues to watch

her, seemingly in awe.

Conscious of his stare, she closes the file with irritation. "Why are you

staring at me, detective?"

"Well, since I haven't been assigned anything yet, I decided to figure out

how you read your files upside down."

Jennifer looks down to see she really is holding the file upside down.

Taken aback, she notices Mario and Steve watching them, but upon making

eye contact, they immediately pretend to go back to work. Feeling

completely embarrassed to the core, Jennifer looks at Collins with

annoyance.

"Come on," she growls.

"Where are we going?" asks Collins, following her like a puppy.

"We’re going to go have a little chat."

"Where?"

Delilah Alvares

18

"The interrogation room."

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Mario and Steve sneak toward the

observation room.

F O U R

Interrogation Room 2

JENNIFER FLIPS THROUGH Collins’ file as he stares along with the same

puppy dog smile.

"Detective Collins—"

"Please," he interrupts, running a hand through his hair once more.

"Call me Roy. I prefer a first name basis."

The unnecessary glee on his face makes her uncomfortable, which she

covers by reading specific details from his file. "You’ve got quite a fascinating

rap sheet. Disorderly conduct, traffic violations, and resisting arrest"

Shrugging his shoulders, "Boys will be boys."

Jennifer raises her eyebrows and straightens in her chair. "You’ve been

reported stealing a police car."

Roy corrects her. "Borrowed."

Jennifer looks at him with a puzzled brow while he maintains his calm

smile.

"With all the intention of returning it" he fires back.

With a nod, she takes a quick look at the file again. "And, you were

completely drunk at that time with . . . " her finger runs along the exact line

of the report as she quotes it, "a minimum amount of clothing covering your

body."

Roy leans over the table, as if he’s to unveil a secret to her, and whispers

"Why should girls have all the fun?"

Jennifer tries to staunch her irritation as Roy slides back to his chair

with a bemused smile.

"Quite an impressive record for a new cop on the block."

Roy winks at her. "Are you impressed?"

Delilah Alvares

20

Jennifer gives him a stern look, her mouth hardened into a tight line.

"Or . . . maybe not" he mutters in continuation.

"Why were the charges dropped each time?"

"I have a couple of fans around," he proclaims proudly.

Taken aback by his behavior, rude and insubordinate, Jennifer closes

the file with a sharp rap and takes a deep breath, knowing well that she has

no choice but to put up with her new partner.

She calmly leans forward in her chair toward Roy, looks him directly in

the eye, and uses a firm tone of voice, "Mr. Collins, this whole bad boy charm

that you’ve got going around may work for your type of girls but not with

me. Under the given circumstances, you'd want to make my life easier rather

than harder. And, trust me, I think you’re better off making me happy."

"Making you happy?" he grins, a single eyebrow raised. "For a beautiful

lady like you, consider it done."

Jennifer looks away in dismay. He sure seems like a hopeless case.

"Damn, do you know you have gorgeous eyes?" he exclaims. "Like huge,

mesmerizing brown buttons."

She lends him her frosty stare in return.

"And, oh my, you look so cute when you do that."

Losing every ounce of already thinned patience, she picks up his file and

stands. "So, I take it that you would have no objection to my bad side during

the course of this entire investigation." Jennifer turns to exit, leaving Roy

seated alone at the table.

As Jennifer reaches the door, Roy pipes out "Can I have a copy of that?"

She turns around in amazement. "Copy?"

"Yeah, I could frame those pages and hang them in my apartment. Then

my friends would know about all the marvelous work that I’ve done in my

life."

Jennifer looks at him in disbelief. She stomps back to the table and

bangs the file down on the steel surface. "Two people are dead. Wise the hell

up."

Roy calmly confronts her. "I’m not asking for the dead bodies. I just

want a copy of my record."

"I think we’re done here." Jennifer heads out of the room, feeling Roy’s

eyes upon her toned ass swaying from side to side. Steve and Mario

immediately walk out of the observation room too. They trail behind her, but

don’t dare speak.

The Maze

21

Walking to her desk, Jennifer spots the pictures of Adam’s body strewn

across the surface and hangs them on her murder board. Dividing the board

into two halves, she gives Kate Rodgers and Adam Matthews an equal space.

She picks up the marker to write down the details of Adam’s murder below

his pictures, but as she places the marker to the board her mind turns

completely blank. She can’t concentrate after her interaction with Roy. It’s

left her infuriated.

Turning around, she notices Steve and Mario standing by her desk,

watching her work. "You guys got anything on Adam Matthews?"

Steve and Mario look at each other. Their expressions fall blank. "Not

yet," they mutter in unison.

"Then what are you waiting around for?" she retorts.

Mario shuffles his feet and delicately asks "Are you all right?"

"I cannot deal with that guy." Jennifer points a thumb toward the

interrogation room. "Steve, check Kate’s cell phone. Get whatever you can

from it. Mario, I need you to meet with Adam’s family. Got it?"

This is the end of the free sample.

To order a copy go here.