Death of a few good stars

by Jack Hooves

Chapter two: Greed

Officer Brass Casings was promoted to a detective a few years later.

I jerked up in bed while one hand groped my stomach as the other reached for the gun by my night stand and brought it up, expecting to see her again with a knife, ready to finish the job she started or maybe to explain why she did it, he sighed heavily while looking at the calender to see that today was his 40th birthday and smiled a little and when to go back to sleep when his phone in his jeans rang, making him get out of bed to pick them up and fish out his phone before seeing it was work and answered it unwillingly.

"Detective Casings." I said while yawning into the phone while still edgy from the recurring nightmare.
"I hate to bother you detective." Walkie said when I recognized the voice.
"Just cut to the chase." I said while pulling my worn jeans on and pulled on a simple white plain t-shirt while before walking into the kitchen.
"There's been a murder.....the wounds are almost identical to yours." He said quickly and nervously.
I froze in my tracks when he said that. "What do you mean identical to mine?" I asked nervously while looking at the coffee maker and saw that there was only day old coffee ready in it.

"The paramedics said the murder is at least three days old, and the police want you to come look and see if you could help with anything." He finished before hanging up on me.

I sighed and walked over to the coffer maker and poured the coffee into a mug that I retrieved from my pantry and looked at the stale coffee as the creamer didn't even change the color of it and simply kept it black as I walked out the door, sipping the nasty coffee and quickly got in my vehicle not noticing the figure in my back seat as I started my car as it lunged at me.