Arriving at the police station, the detectives went straight for the forensics lab. The lab tech in charge of their evidence was sitting at a long hard-top counter, studying a bluish liquid in a small test tube. His name was Sean Meyers, and he’d just turned twenty-six. A tall, thin man with thick glasses and long brown hair, reaching down to his shoulders. The long white lab coat gave him the classic appearance of a nerd.
Replacing the test tube in a steel holder on the counter, he then noticed the detectives approaching. “Come to see what we’ve come up with, Detectives?” Sean began the conversation.
“Yes, we have,” Donny replied.
“So, what’s your new partners’ name, Detective Smith?” Sean asked, eyeing Angel.
“This is Detective Angel Jones,” Donny said pointing to her.
“Hi, my name is Sean Meyers, nice to see they finally found someone to work with Detective Smith,” he said grinning.
“Back off, slime ball.” Angel pumped her chest up and flexed her biceps.
Sean took a step back, not sure what to make of her. Turning to Donny, “Well, Detective Smith, we ran ballistics on the slug retrieved from Mr. Butler’s chest. It came back as a .38 caliber. We traced it back to a five-shot Smith and Wesson revolver registered to a Linda Lerner,” Sean said, reading from a printout sheet.
“Image that,” Angel said.
“What else do you have?” Donny asked.
“Not much, no fingerprints other than the deceased, no foreign fibers or other items that didn’t match up to stuff already belonging to Butler. Seems whoever shot him, didn’t enter the apartment, just popped him from the doorway,” Sean stated.
“Looks like it’s time to pay that fat bitch another visit. Don’t you think so, pussy-boy?” Angel asked flexing her cheek bones as a smirk came across her tight face.
Detective Smith flushed red as the ‘pussy-boy’ comment registered on Sean’s face. Sean broke eye contact with Donny, not wanting to embarrass his friend. Donny turned and made a hasty retreat out the door into the hallway, followed by Angel.
He reeled around and confronted her. “Just who the hell do you think you are, bitch?!” he shouted, looking up into her face.
Angel stood silent, not sure what was causing his outburst.
“I have to work with these people, and you open your big mouth and call me a ‘pussy-boy’ in front of a fellow colleague, not to mention a personal friend,” Donny said, poking her chest with his finger, as the anger was building to fever pitch inside him.
She now caught the gist of his outburst, but she felt he went too far in physically touching her in order to make his point. Now, she too, felt the infuriation of his actions rising from within. “You need to step back, before I put my boot up your ass, faggot!” she howled.
“Fuck you! You cunt!” He blasted back as he shoved her back against the wall.
As Angel bounced off the wall, she hit Donny with an explosive right upper cut to his weak jaw, which snapped his head back. Stumbling backward, he caught and braced himself against the opposite wall. Angel advanced fists up, ready for battle. Donny pivoted, and placed a side-kick straight into Angel’s abdomen. Doubling over, she dropped to her knees. Donny moved in for the kill shot, a straight right-cross to the head. This would be the knock-out punch that would teach her whose boss.
Angel looked up just as he drew back his fist; she fired off a short jab of her own. Donny’s blow found its target; his punch struck with such force, she landed several feet away. Angel’s jab found its mark too; her fist connected with his groin. Donny collapsed into the fetal position. He could barely breathe; the pain was so intense tears fell from his tightly closed eyes. Angel was on her back, semi-conscious, unaware of where she was.
Sean observed most of the confrontation through the lab doorway. He ran to his friend’s side. “We need some help down here!” he hollered, now assisting Donny.
Several officers and a few detectives came to see what all the commotion was about, including Chief Rachel Temme.
“What happened here?” Chief Temme demanded.
Sean spelled out the events from what he had seen and heard to Chief Temme.
Angel was now fully conscious and leaning up against the wall. Her vision was blurred, and her head was throbbing. Stabbing needle pains circled behind her eyes. She could hear voices, yet not make any sense of what they were saying to her.
An officer tried to help Donny into a sitting position, but the pain was still too much.
“Call for an ambulance,” Chief Temme ordered. “They need more then we can provide here at the station,” she continued while kneeling beside Angel.