The spring sun made the office look like a half-forgotten basement, full of unwanted things and dust-gathering trinkets. Its golden days had long passed into history and what remained was a matter of many disputes.

“We need this,” Kalin growled as he dragged the old whiteboard across the room, pulling with it an entire collection of spiderwebs from the corner. It refused to move smoothly making a terrible screeching sound as it scraped the floor.

“You are killing my ear cells,” Ronns returned pulling on his sock with a pencil. “It’s not like we have anything to write on that old thing anyway. When's the last time we had a decent case?”

Before Kalin could shake off the dirt from his jacket, Myra slid past him like a ghost. She dropped into her seat tightly grappling the armrests with her nails. She sat there a whole minute before responding to anything or anyone.

“Where are you right now?” said Ronns waving his hand over her face. Their office never allowed for much privacy and like a small unhappy family the homicide unit pledged their lives together, even if it meant suffering each other in the process.

“What?” Myra yelled electrocuting the air. ”I didn’t forget about it Ronns. I’ll give you the money later.” She pushed her coat off her back and let it hang from the chair as she began to shuffle through the drawers of her desk.

“Can’t a college be concerned?” Ronns mumbled and returned to watching funny cat videos on his phone.

“Have you seen my badge? I swear it was somewhere…” She kicked the drawers back in place one after the other. “Why can’t I find a damn thing in this place?”

“Are you going to yell at me again?” Ronns poked back, pointing his pencil at her.

“No, Ronns, I’m sorry for being mean to you. Could you please tell me where it is?”

“You promise?”

“Gods. Yes!” she exclaimed, ready to yank the phone out of his hands.

Ronns gently distanced himself from the table, got up, circled to the other side and got behind Kalin’s empty chair.

Myra squinted her eyes at him, already expecting a troubling end.

“I have no idea,” Ronns returned with a devilish smile.

Unable to control her temper, Myra grabbed the first thing within her reach and lounged at him from afar. With tightly clenched teeth she was ready to strike.

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“Tamon!" A voice echoed from across the hall, cutting off her attack. “Get over here.”

“Coming sir.” Myra returned sourly. For a few more seconds she stood like a statue, gleaming at the enemy, but once she realized there was no way of avoiding the captain that day she dropped the keyboard and dragged herself to his office.

***

“I know I’m late,” she said closing the door. “I still have a couple of reports to finish so there’s not much to report sir.”

“I heard you’re to be cleared for active duty soon.”

“Yes sir. As of next week, I’ll be back in the field.” She smiled as she held her hands behind her back as she always did.

“It may have to be today.”

“Sir?”

“You haven’t heard anything yet, have you?” the chief returned leaving his chair. He stopped by the window and yanked on his tie until it was fully off his neck. He held it in his hand like it was a key piece of evidence or a weapon capable of great destruction.

“Like what? Did you finally decide to fire me?” Myra said sarcastically. She couldn’t help but get distracted by a box of uneaten beef chops on the captain’s desk. They were so fresh she could still see the steam coming off the surface.

“Listen Myra. There’s a fair chance the next few days will turn into a real… kerfuffle so to say.” He pulled down the blinds before peeking through the window one last time. The office suddenly lost all the warmth and became a cold dark box, devoid of life. “There is only so much I can do, so be smart about this.”

“You’re going to have to be more precise, captain. What has happened?” Myra’s eyes widened and her forehead began to pulsate as the blood gathered in her face. She could not tell if such excitement was a consequence of the utter boredom she experienced sitting at a desk every day.

“There’s been a murder.” The captain’s voice sank and he made sure his eyes were not on hers.

“And?”

“Do you remember that… what was it, your first case?”

“Of course. The Arbiger Park murder. Why?”

“It happened again it seems.” He paused and then slowly lowered himself back into the chair. “They found the body just this morning. Exact same place, exact same murder, or so it seems. The press has been told not to print anything yet but that won’t hold them for long.”

“Wait. Are you saying he’s back?” Myra shifted closer to the table, just enough to see the outline of the old case file.

“There’s one more thing,” the captain added with a grim look on his face.

“What?”

“Same victim,” he said slowly as if every letter was as heavy as a mountain.

“Oh.” Myra’s voice thinned out, and her thoughts spiralled to a different time. She never imagined she'd have to set foot in Arbiger Park again, much less that it would return as a twisted thing to haunt her. "What does that even mean?"

“The case has been re-opened, regardless of the victim’s identity. There is also a high chance it is to be re-classified.”

“To what?” she shrieked as the very idea made he skin crawl.

“M-1.”

She paused. It was not what she’d expected to happen. Her stomach cramped until a liberating thought came to mind.

“But then it is not our concern, right? If the victim is the same then the case is… it’s… theirs.”

“Thought you’d be more interested in this. Anyway, It would have been their concern, had the laws not changed. It was our investigation in the first place so they want us to carry it on again. It’s just that,” he stopped to scratch his nose, “the bureau decided to send a specialist over. To oversee the investigation.”

“Which bureau? What kind of specialist?”

“You know what kind.”