A Saint and A Sinner Ch. 01

He was a rookie and she was a gorgeous, ambitious, rising star. It was the sme sad story that happens all the time. When she found out that he could be closed mouth about a case and nothing about her many abundant charms would wheedle, cajole or coerce anything out of him but a good time, the relationship ended.

Car doors slammed outside. The guys with the gurney and black body bag came in first, their expressions screwing up in distaste as the smell of decomposing flesh hit them like a slap in the face.

"Phew, that smells worse than what my dog rolled in last week," one of them, a tall, very skinny guy in a black coroner's windbreaker with the name 'Bob' stitched across the breast muttered disgustedly, backing up a step.

His partner, as short and round as the other one was tall and thin, nodded and gave an informed "Yup," and shoved the gurney forward into Bob's side earning him a dirty look.

Behind them trooped in two members of the crime scene team carrying black plastic suitcases and a fishing tackle box full of their paraphernalia.

The first one through the door, a tall redhead with a gorgeous figure and sass to match, stopped by Nick. She gave him the once over, almond shaped green eyes letting on that she really liked what she saw and wouldn't mind getting to know it better.

"Hey, Nicky," she purred. "Got another one for us I heard. We still don't have all the forensic results back on the first one." She smiled at him. "What, you get tired of small town life and decided to bring us some excitement?"

He smirked at her. "Yeah, Lisha. I got so bored I decided to start importing scum bags."

"Thought so." She changed her expression to a fake look of sympathy interlaced with concern. "When the sheriff called to give us this run, he told me to tell you to call him. He has been trying to get you but says you turned off your cell phone again and you're ignoring your beeper."

Nicky could almost smell cattiness coming from her. She lived to make other people miserable, which was probably what made her so good in her job. She could turn it on and off, and wasn't afraid to get into someone's face to do what she had to. Death didn't bother her. Rape victims got the same false sympathy she just dished to him. Most of them were too traumatized to realize it.

Witnesses didn't stand a chance with her. Most officers he knew weren't happy when they saw her come onto a scene. She might be beautiful and she might like to flaunt what the good Lord saw fit to give her, but she was a barracuda with a wide mouth full of razor sharp teeth and a happy impulse to bite.

Damn. He knew what the sheriff had to say. He knew that he was going to be put on this because he had 'experience'. And, God knew, he didn't want anything to do with it. He had enough bad memories to last his next two lifetimes. This one already stunk. It was going to be bad for everyone concerned and he knew it. He heaved a sigh, not caring that Lisha was probably reveling in the fact that she got in a shot. He was just too tired.

"Reports and photos on my desk as soon as you get them, okay Lisha?" He paused, looking at her to make sure she understood. "No talking to the press, period. If anything comes up that seems even the slightest bit unusual, let me know right away. Get some photos of the crowd out there, too. Nice clear faces." He turned away to give orders to the few cops left in the room that hadn't snuck out when Lisha had walked in and to speak to the state boys, ignoring the evil look she turned his way.

Lisha bristled under his orders. She knew her job and did it well despite cops who couldn't tell fingerprints from paw prints. She never talked to the press unless there was something in it for her, and in this case, there wasn't yet. She felt like snapping to attention and saluting him with her middle finger but instead she just nodded and walked into the next room where their newest body and its evidence lay, letting her hips roll in a way she knew would attract the attention of every male eye in the room.

Nick looked around once more, sighed again and left the house, ducking cameras and questions as he went to his car to get his notebook and pen, then headed to the next door neighbor's house and a long evening full of work.

Now, after being corralled by Sheriff 'I won't have this shit in my county, take care of it now, Nick' Williams and chain smoking a pack of cigarettes, drinking endless rivers of motor oil that passed for coffee all the while trying to get answers from people who either didn't know what they saw or weren't available to talk, here he was.

He turned on the faucet and scooped a handful of water to hold against his face, relishing the bite of cold against his hot skin. The water woke him momentarily but he knew it wouldn't be long before he was longing for bed again. Ten years ago, he could have stayed up for days straight if necessary. He had in college, working hard to get his degree in Criminal Justice with a few classes in psychology as electives to give him a step up before joining any precinct.

The door banged open beside him, startling him out of his thoughts. He turned his head, his hand automatically going to the handle of his gun.

"Jesus Christ!" he gasped, as he saw who was in the doorway. Jimmy Benitti, another of the county detectives stood there, his eyes wide, a city newspaper clasped under his arm. "I coulda shot you, Jimmy." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Don't you know better than to sneak up on people?"

Jimmy pushed past him, ignoring the bite of his words. "Just because the sheriff reamed you a new asshole, don't shoot me for it. I didn't do anything but open a door, Nick." He started into one of the stalls, turning to look back at Nick's reflection in the mirror before he closed the door.

"Big city boy gets to play hero and show us small town cops a thing or two." He shook his head. "I like you, Nicky. You seem to be a good cop and a decent guy. Lots of the other guys are gonna to want to see you fail on this one and will sit and crow while you're floundering in shit. I'm not one of them." He shook his head again, sympathy shining out of brown eyes, a weary smile on his face. "Hell of a thing to happen here. Hell of a thing. Happy hunting on this one, Nicky. I think you are going to need all the luck you can get."