Free The Body Mafia by Stacy Dittrich Page B

to tell you I’m glad to see you back, and I’m sorry about what happened.”
    I did my best to smile. “Thank you. So how are your cases coming along?”
    We talked briefly before he left. People expressing their condolences was something that would take time to get used to. Flipping through the homeless-murder file was no good. I couldn’t concentrate and certainly didn’t find anything that might’ve been missed. There were two murders to be solved, and I was worthless.
    The third murder came less than two weeks after I returned to work. Thirty-nine-year-old Jamie Ellerman had hitchhiked his way to Mansfield from Louisville. He had initially thought he had relatives here, but found out they had either died or moved. Finding himself with no money or transportation, he walked to the nearest homeless shelter, where he had been staying for the last five days. His body, minusboth kidneys, was found in Ferndale Park, at the end of Harmon Avenue.
    Harmon Avenue, also known as “the drive-through,” was the street that supplied the majority of the city’s crack cocaine. House after house was a crack store. People literally went door-to-door to feed their habit. Ellerman’s body was found by a crack addict who had gone to the park to smoke her morning breakfast. Most addicts are so eager for their supply, they can’t wait to get home, so they go right to the park. On any given day, one could find ten to fifteen people in the park, smoking crack. All of us deduced at least five to ten people had seen the body and not reported it. Why this addict decided to call the police was anyone’s guess.
    Pulling into the parking lot of the park, I felt different than I had at other homicides I’d been to. It was the lack of emotion, the hardhearted indifference. I didn’t care. Looking at the body, my usual thoughts of compassion were replaced with So what if another no-good piece of shit was carved like a Thanksgiving Day turkey. Someone ought to give a medal to the killer—he did the world a favor. That was the day I knew my career in law enforcement was over.
    After standing over the body and staring at it for a while, Coop came over and asked my opinion.
    “What do you think? It’s definitely the same killer. I’m starting to think it’s one of the high-end dealers around here looking for a quick buck.”
    I glared at him. “Does it really matter? All that happened here is the taxpayers got another break from having to support this nonworking, drug-addicted shitbag! Do we really want to find the killer?Maybe if we let him do his business, there wouldn’t be any more welfare recipients in this county.”
    Coop’s jaw dropped ever so slightly as he stared at me, looking as if I’d just announced it was me who was killing the homeless. Raising my left eyebrow, I glared right back at him.
    “Alrighty then, I see somebody isn’t quite ready to come back to work.” He gently grabbed my arm. “I’ve got plenty of vacation time built up. Why don’t you let me donate it to you so you can take some more time off?”
    I jerked my arm away. “I’m fine, and I’m perfectly capable of doing my job!” I pointed at the body. “What difference does it make? Huh? If we catch this guy’s killer, then next week we’ll have someone else putting their baby on the heater or shooting their wife in the face! It goes on and on, Coop! Maybe tomorrow we’ll have the mayor getting blown up in his car!”
    My reference to the car bomb shocked Coop, especially since the actual cause of Michael’s death had never come up in our conversations. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was too soon for me to be back at work, looking at dead bodies.
    “CeeCee, try and relax.” Coop’s voice was quiet, since there were other people around.
    “Don’t you fucking tell me to relax, Detective! Go start interviewing the residents on the street to see if they saw anything.” I nodded toward the houses. “That’s an order!”
    Coop’s face turned