This is going to be one of my longest stories, likely published in parts and continued over a long time period. I’ll try to publish at least one new chapter per month, I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do writing it 🙂

You can use either the dropdown menu at the top of the page to navigate through the chapters or start here and click your way through.

If you like to support me you can always grab the ebook from payhip, I will keep the file updated so you always have the full story line so far and usually one or two chapters before I publish them here.

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People called it the city that never wept – and Moira the woman that never smiled. Yet the torrential rain that washed all evidence into the gutters also eased her pain as it rolled down her face and left a wry smile in its wake.

She never felt more alive than when a few drops of water managed to stall the busy city into momentary depression and paralysis, locking most everyone inside their homes and leaving the city all but deserted.

The woman on the ground – or rather what remained of her – would never feel this alive again, that much was sure. Over the last months an alarming increase in murders going beyond the usual autumn increase had made these nightly calls to crime scenes all but a grim routine. With each dead body the situation got worse, the public more upset and their superiors more concerned about their jobs.

That wasn’t what Moira was concerned about – after all working under pressure was their speciality at the Serious Crime Investigation unit – but rather the annoying feeling of being too late.
Sure, being late to a crime scene was their job description, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this case was different, and that an important piece of information was irreversibly gone, swept away by the rain or trampled into the ground by one of the countless pedestrians who had done worse to the crime scene than the killer to the victim.

Maybe it was just a hunch and this was really just another hit by the same killer as Captain Manson had told everyone the minute he had set foot onto the scene, but she went back to take another look at the scene regardless. Nothing stood out about the place itself, an alleyway like every other. Dark enough to unload a body without being seen, public enough to ensure it would be found. It was obviously not the place the woman was murdered so Moira only threw a quick glance around before focussing on the body again.

It wasn’t all that bad to look at – the rain had taken care of the blood – until her eyes wandered to the woman’s head. The upper left skull was gone and there was just no way of tricking the brain into treating that as normal.

The modus operandi differed from the previous killings. So far the only time the killer had used a gun had been when he had been seen dumping the body by a civilian and fired shots at him to get away. That didn’t have to mean anything, but Moira was all but sure this woman had not been killed by the same person. With the case having been dragged back and forth through the newspapers anyone could try to pass a murder as the newest victim of a serial killer the whole town was talking about, and that was probably even more motivation for Moira to finally catch the killer.

She heard footsteps behind her and threw a glance over her shoulder, hoping it wouldn’t be Manson because every word he said made her wonder if she could get away with dumping him in an alley.

Luck had it that it was her Partner Wallace, the new face to the unit and only assigned to her because Manson wanted to annoy her with having to babysit the newbie. Against all odds Moira had found that they got along fairly well, her experience and his belief in law and order that she had slowly started to lose combined quite well. In fact he had managed to draw her back into an attempt at a social life, something that her other colleagues had tried and failed at multiple times.

But right then her social life was not important, or at least less than getting his fresh look on the scene.

“Evening, Moira.”

“Lovely night, isn’t it? Tell me what you see.”

While Wallace looked around Moira got back up on her feet, shaking her legs that had started to go numb from being crouched for so long. Her eyes followed him walk across the area but she kept her mouth shut, didn’t want to lead him into any direction. She found it interesting to see that he only threw a quick glance at the body before focusing on the surroundings. He got down to get a closer look at several things that caught his attention, but ultimately he came up empty-handed like her and walked over to her.

“No personal belongings?”

Moira shook her head. “Nada. We’ll have DNA results by tomorrow, Manson actually did something useful for a change and put us on fast lane. Notice anything unusual?”

“GSW instead of slit throat on the body, apart from that as much nothing as the last times. I thought that was a wallet over there at first but it was just a piece of cloth. The rain doesn’t help either.”

“So, you think it’s the same killer?”

He tilted his head in a kind of cute way, something he did involuntarily when he tried to catch up on tones in people’s voice.

“You are thinking copycat? Why, just the GSW?”

She nodded. “I mean I wish there was more to go on to solidify that hunch, but I can’t help but feel this is different. We have so little to go on though, might just be that I’m going paranoid thinking someone’s using the media buzz to fly under the radar.”

“Now that you mention it I didn’t look at it that way. There is something that doesn’t quite fit, I’m pretty sure the others all had long hair, not this whatever you might call it chin-long hair. Blonde like the others and I guess the difference isn’t that big, but…”

Moira nodded excitedly. “…that’s good, that’s good. Still nothing to say out loud or Manson will call us crazy, but I want you to keep this in the back of your head, look at things two ways because this might lead us on the wrong track if we stick to one killer only.”

“You got it, keeping my mouth shut and my eyes peeled.”

Silence set in, they both hated how little there was to do and see when they were both willing to work their asses off to catch that bastard.

About as likeable as avoidable as Manson was she could feel him seconds before he even opened his mouth.

“Anything useful?”

Moira shook her head. “Nothing, Cap.”

He simply shrugged, for him this whole matter was just a mild annoyance on his way up the ladder. “Well, let us hope she will be identified soon and with a bit of luck we can finally make a connection between the victims. Go home, both of you. There’s nothing we can do here tonight, let the techs finish up and get some sleep.”

He was right and that was about as annoying as the fact itself so Moira resorted to a simple nod and motioning Wallace to follow her. The moment they were out of earshot she looked over to him. “Is it just me or is he the most unlikeable person in the whole department?”

Wallace grinned. “I’d say some people in IA come close, but yes. For what it’s worth I think he likes you as much as you like him.”

“That actually does make it a little better, thanks.”

“Know what would make the evening even better?”

Moira knew he was trying to lure her into going out again, the third time this week.

“Getting all of what little sleep we can fit between now and tomorow?”

“Nah, that’s boring. I was thinking a beer or two at Moriarty’s, see some friendly faces before they forget about you.”

“Hah, fat chance. They just saw me two days ago.”

“Come on, you know you secretly enjoy doing something other than whatever you do locked inside all the time.”

“Not just secretly, but I’m really tired.”

“Okay, just one beer then. No excuses, can always sleep when you’re dead.”

Moira shrugged and noticed a smile creeping up on her face. “Might just be if I don’t get my sleep. Okay, you can be quite convincing if you want to. Can you please use that to get the captain to retire?”

“I can at least try.”

The drive was short, just one of the benefits of Moriarty’s that wasn’t really far from anywhere in the city. Another was that despite once being the shadiest bar in town it now probably cast blue shadows with how many cops frequented it. It was even owned by a former cop, Moriarty who had worked his ass off in Patrol for more years than most did on the force before he had been forced to retire like so many good people.
Luckily the good people left had made the upper level their own and it was a rare occurrence for one of the many assholes to set foot into their little save haven.

There were people she liked working with as much as she enjoyed their presence and conversation, who shared her world views at least partially and who she even sort-of trusted. Looking down from the top they could look down upon the puny mortals with all their simple-mindedness while sipping on drinks that weren’t even on the menu down below.

In short it was a place for recluses to socialize and had somewhat of a monopoly in that regard, a gold mine inside a gold mine for Moriarty who seemed to enjoy his new life as much as he enjoyed milking them for news and stories from a life he dearly missed.

“Mo, nice to see you.”

“Same to you, Mo.”

“And Wallace, you come in nice company.”

“Whenever I can.”

“What can I get you?”

“Usual.”

“Coming right up.”

Usual meant Mojito for Wallace and Guinness for Moira, a routine she just couldn’t tire of. Nothing else could replace the sadness of life with the bitter taste of reality and still calm her nerves in the process.

They made their way up the wooden steps that were so smooth from years of use that they were a downright death trap in combination with drunk people – but then no one who walked them was the type of person to get drunk beyond their limits. Their drinks were already following them in their wake as Moira noticed when the glasses were seated before they were. Only three others had made it up that night and Moira had a smile in store for each of them.

There was Irene who had replaced her lab coat with a fashionable jeans-sweater combo and was sipping on something that looked awfully blue; Aaron who could have long been promoted to detective if he didn’t like patrol so much and Frank who had made a stellar career from the Department Brass’ to IAs favourite thanks to that annoying tendency to do the right thing.

They danced around the hot topics because everyone had heard enough garbage for the day, instead hopping from one of the few nice events of the day to the next. When Moira noticed she had no idea if it was the fourth or fifth beer she had just emptied she realized she had probably had one too many already, but before she could tell the others she had to leave Wallace did it for her.

“Guys, I think we’ll have to leave now, we’ve been here longer than we planned to already.”

With the string of complaints still echoing inside her head she found herself outside the bar, the chilly night air bringing a minimum of clarity back into her thoughts. Wallace was with her, apparently escorting her home considering he lived in the opposite direction.

Part of her found that incredibly sweet, but the bigger part of her was overcome by thoughts that were neither sweet nor lady-like. She already knew those thoughts, but usually she found herself in a condition to resist them, focus on work and maintain the image of the stone-cold bitch she had so carefully curated.

But just as much as she needed his arm around her to avoid losing her balance she needed it for her soul, the very fact that someone was so close to her healing wounds she had not even realized before.

For the remainder of their walk she simply enjoyed the silence and his presence, telling herself that was all she really needed but when they reached her apartment far too soon she realized that just wasn’t going to cut it, dragged him over her doorstep and kicked the door closed behind them.

“I don’t want you to leave tonight.” Some sentences came over her lips much easier when she wasn’t sober.

The look of mixed feelings on his face was incredibly cute and she immediately knew two things: That she would have to fight his weird code of ethics and morals and that she had a fighting chance to succeed.

“Uh, I really think you should get some rest, you had quite a lot to drink tonight and there’s not much time to sleep left.”

But he hadn’t brushed off her hands from his collar and so she still had him in her grip. “I might be a little drunk, but I’m not stupid and I see how you fight yourself more than you fight me. Give yourself a little push, tonight’s the night you get a chance that won’t come again if you don’t take it now.”

She saw the hesitation in his eyes change to an amused expression, then his cheeky self took over and his face was distored by a smirk. Instead of an answer she suddenly had his arms around her back and his lips on hers, his chest pressed against her breasts and her back pressed against the wall. It was a swift kiss, barely a touch before he gave her some room to smile at her but it left a burning sensation for several seconds that made her blush against all common sense.

She knew she had to say something, anything or risk making him come to his senses, but she lacked words. What she didn’t lack was the burning desire not to be alone that night so she simply pulled him closer for another kiss, inevitably sealing their fate.

They giggled their way into her living room, losing their shoes, her leather jacket and his coat on their way but reaching the couch with their wardrobe largely intact. Once sunk into the cushions however that changed quickly, her sweatshirt and top fell out of sight before Wallace started exploring her exposed breasts with his fingers, then his tongue. Her nipples didn’t need any further stimulation, but they sure as hell didn’t complain either. Still she grabbed his hair and pulled him up because as much as she liked slow sometimes it wasn’t the night to go slow. She brought his ear up to her lips and whispered: “Don’t you dare take your time with me tonight, hear me?”

She could hear his chuckle as much as she felt his warm breath on her shoulder before he wordlessly let his hands glide down her sides before finding, then undoing her belt buckle. She wondered if she would have been able to drag her pants down that quickly herself, but before she could get lost in that thought he had opened his own pants and was stepping back from the couch to get out of them. What she saw gave her reason to be excited, even though she didn’t have much time to enjoy the view before Wallace was back on top of her, reaching down to guide his erect dick into her pussy. Their eyes locked when she felt the tip rub her skin, then she lost the connection when he entered her in one swift motion and blurred her vision.

He felt good inside her, far better than she remembered others feeling before her memory, too, became all blurry and she remembered the next thrust more than the last.
She tried to read his eyes and face, anticipate when he would pull back or push in but her mind wasn’t able to keep up and two times out of three he did the complete opposite of what she expected.

She gazed deep into the abyss of his eyes, but sure enough it gazed back and could apparently read her like an open book because he did just what she needed, just when she needed it. His hands were on her neck and back, keeping her pressed closely against him and unable to escape the sweet pleasure he was inflicting on her, his lips took her breath whenever she desperately tried to fill her lungs with air and the smile on his face was replaced with fierce determination to not stop before she came, and came hard.

Which was the inevitable outcome of this and in a sudden moment of clearness she realized her mind was trying to prevent the unpreventable and she only had to give in, let her body take control over her mind and sail with the wind instead of cruising against it.

Moira let her mind rest and her limps go soft, receiving each thrust like the waves rolling onto a beach, taking all the pain with them as they rolled back into the sea. All it took was one more unexpected tickle of his dick rubbing against her inside and she was free, all the pain, effort and focus of her daily life concentrated in her before exploding into every single nerve and muscle, tensing everything up before relieving all pressure in one swift moment that send shivers of unknown intensity through her whole body.

Moira was unsure of the time that had passed between her orgasm and his warm cum spreading over her stomach but it didn’t matter because she hadn’t even found the strength to open her eyes when it did. Only when his lips touched hers again, this time with the softest of touches did reality begin to set back in, her eyes began to open and the room she saw so often began to materialize around her.

She wanted to say something but nothing she could come up with seemed worthy of breaking that wonderful exhausted silence between them so she just watched him leaned against the opposite site of the couch with her left eye closed, then her right.

Neither of them spoke, but they both smiled and before Moira could become aware of her nakedness and the cum slowly running down her sides she was already drifting into a drunk, exhausted sleep she wasn’t going to awake from in time to get to work early.

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I hope you liked this first part, the second one is already in the works. If you want to support me you can do so by subscribing to my Patreon via the link to the left. Any and all support is appreciated!