A New Lead.

                                        

                                              
CHAPTER: 19
*


Angel.
The first thing I did after leaving the office was to go to the morgue. I hated visiting the morgue because it brought back many unwanted memories. 
I could still remember when I visited 10 years ago after my father was murdered. That's a kind of memory that doesn't just go away.
But today, I needed answers and I could only get them by going to the one place I didn't want to be.
The cold room smelled of antiseptic and old air. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting pale blue shadows across the steel drawers and polished tile.
When the coroner slid the body tray out, I forced my face into a neutral expression.
Judge Noelle Mendez had been dead for four days, but even time hadn't been able to soften the brutality of her death.
Her skin was waxy, her lips drawn and pale. Dark bruising coiled around her throat like someone had tried to strangle her first, then later decided that knives were better.
Her torso was littered with deep violent stab wounds—four in the chest, two under her ribs, and a jagged cut that carved across her abdomen as if someone was looking for something inside.
The worst part of it all was her face which was still frozen in what looked like a mix of pain and disbelief. 
Her eyes had been mercifully closed by the coroner, and I wished I could open them to see what she must have seen in her final seconds.
I stood there for a while, hands tucked in the pockets of my coat as my heart thudded quietly.
This wasn't just a hit. If it was, I assumed the killer would have done it in a less messy way. But this looked personal. Whoever killed her had wanted her to suffer.
I didn't flinch as I nodded toward the coroner. "Thanks for the access."
He gave a short nod, already moving to slide the body back in.
***
The safe house was located two hours outside the city, deep in a wooded estate that was surrounded by steel fences and long-range surveillance towers.
It looked like a modern cabin if you squinted but it was all for show. Inside, it was reinforced, monitored, and locked tighter than a CIA black site.
No one came in without clearance, and no one got out without authorization.
Two CID agents stood at the entrance as I approached the property. 
One of them, Agent Ramirez was leaning against the porch railing, cigarette tucked behind his ear, while Harper nursed a cup of lukewarm coffee.
"Angel," Harper greeted as I approached. "Didn't think we'd see you back so soon."
"Didn't think I'd be needed," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
Ramirez smirked. "You're always needed when the work's fucked up."
I gave a nod. "Status?"
"She's inside. Hasn't said much. She ate half of her breakfast, but barely touched her lunch. Apart from that, she's been really quiet."
"Good." 
I passed them both and walked inside, rolling my shoulders once as I shook off the last trace of emotion. I needed to be clear-headed for this.
I had my game face on as I entered the room she was being held in. It had warm lighting, a small bed, a bookshelf stocked with novels, and a kitchen nook.