##Chapter 14: Attention to Detail

The investigation was proceeding smoothly. The forensics team was sweeping the area. The amount of flashing lights was almost blinding.

Abigail followed behind the photographers, squinting behind her sunglasses.

The brutality of the crime left much to be desired as to the method and number of perpetrators. Dogs had followed the scent trails to a wooded inlet not far from the warehouse where police found tire tracks and muddy boot prints.

At this time, it was theorized that a group of five to seven were behind it. They were well equipped. Bullet casings for a sniper rifle and the prongs for a stand had been located, as well as gunshot residue for automatic rifles.

It explained how the guards had been taken out so easily and without warning.

Busy with the crime scene as a whole, no one had fully investigated the area around Gina's body yet. It was separated from the rest of the warehouse by strands of yellow tape. Her body was outlined in white chalk.

Abigail hadn't been able to look at her since the first time. She gripped her briefcase handle and turned herself in that direction, breathing in small spurts as the officers had instructed until the smell of blood became less alarming.

Gina was face down upon the concrete. Her skull was twisted to the side so it faced the entryway. Her legs and arms had been spread out. One of her hands was clenched while the other lay flat.

The oddity of it struck her. As she approached, she saw a tag had been wrapped about the object, a paper, which lay unrolled across the floor to keep the original position of Gina's fingers intact.

The ink was blood. The letters were streaked, but the words were clear enough.

WE KNOW ALL ABOUT FREDRICKS AND ROBERTS. WE ARE COMING FOR THE GIRL. SHE WILL BE SCATTERED BEFORE SUNRISE.

They knew? How could they have access to that information?

Herself, she could account for easily. The news of the court trial had been playing for hours on every local TV station across the city. She'd listened religiously to see if any one of them had reported something they shouldn't have.

There had been no mention of Elaine or the location of Grace or Gina in any of the reports. The only ones who would have known at all were herself and the original squad sent to take the Holidays.

The police had already taken the squad members into custody, but their alibis were solid. Internal communications showed the requests to relocate and take on other jobs.

It wasn't illegal to make executive decisions about resource management though. Now, seeing this, Abigail thought she might try to draft something up.

She would also draft something up regarding the overzealousness of workers at the DA's office with an ego larger than their vision.

If it wasn't the fault of the officers sent to watch them, then the fault assuredly lay with her. Somehow, whether by being followed or through communications from someone she must have been in contact with, the Holidays had been compromised.

The why could be determined later. The what to go about it was perfectly clear.

Elaine and Grace must be alerted and taken to safer quarters.

She turned her head as a man knelt beside her, looking over the body. By his insignia, he was a member of the DNA laboratory and a member of the main task force. He was well armed, which suited her purpose.

Waiting until he had finished writing down the victims name, age, and gender, she coughed to attain his attention.

"I would like to request use of one of your firearms, Sargent."

The man didn't even look at her. He was too busy noting down the way the blood was splattered on the concrete. She applauded the dedication to detail. It would certainly come in handy for the conviction of those responsible.

She tapped his shoulder, making it clear she needed to speak with him rather than the back of his head.

"I understand the oddity of my asking for a firearm without context. I will be happy to provide a full report to the superiors in charge of this operation at its conclusion."

He kept writing, stepping over the body, bending to tousle Gina's hair, possibly to look for evidence of skin cells or remains of glove particles.

"I'm sorry but--"

Abigail unlocked her briefcase, rifling through the upper compartment for three plastic cards. She held them under the man's nose until he took them and looked them over.

"I assure you, I am licensed to hold a firearm in concealment and in the open in the state of Illinois and in the city of Chicago. Here are my permits stating at such. Likewise, in your hands are the documents cataloguing my time at the firing range. My training is up to date."

The Sargent, Wickfield was the name on the chest plate, returned her items, shuffling down to Gina's legs, marking down the injuries present, taking their depth and length with a small white ruler he pulled from his pocket.

"That's not really the issue here, ma'am. I would like to know why-"

She knelt to be eye level with him, addressing him in as loud a whisper as she could manage as other officers passed them by.

"I do not currently own a firearm, nor do I have the time to obtain one using proper channels at this point in time. I fear for the safety of the witness and her guardian. If the firearm is truly unacceptable to be taken, then I would request use of a nonlethal weapon such as your taser instead."

Wickfield peered at her for a moment. The grey in his eyes went from blue to silver as the light of his headlamp was reflected off the briefcase.

"Are you worried about that note we found on the body? Look, I can have a few of the boys go down to Miss Roberts' house when we're done here. There's no point getting all riled up. People like this are crafty. It's likely they put it here as a feint for us."

Honestly, the man had the senses of a turtle, or the mind of one, to not value the urgency with which they spoke.

"You fail to understand the seriousness of the situation, sir. If that witness is killed, we lose the entire case against Bobby Holiday. Her testimony is tantamount to success in this venture. If you do not permit me access to a weapon to defend them with, I will hold you accountable for obstructing the law."

He chuckled, measuring out a gouge in the inner portion of the left knee. "Those charges would never stick, and you know that. You're just trying to frighten me into doing what you want cause you've never seen a crime scene before. They'd have you sacked for unlawful imprisonment faster than you could dry ink on the page. Why don't you take a breath and calm down?"

Was he unaware that telling someone to calm down was precisely the thing that makes them more agitated? If calm was a possibility, she would happily feel it and be content.

"I assure you I am fully capable of making those charges applicable, should your preventing me from offering protection to my witness result in their deaths. Your negligent behavior would be culpable just as much as my own, and I will make sure we both spend many years in prison rotting for what we caused."

Wickfield sat back on his heels. His mouth twisted in a frown, fingers tapping against his knee. She held out her hand and stared pointedly at the extra weapon attached to the man's belt. He began undoing the buckles.

"You're out of your mind."

That was an incorrect assessment of her being.

"My mental faculties are working perfectly well. My emotional state is what you should be questioning. If you do not assist me I will take my requests to every officer in the premises, and then I'll start calling around to every contact I know in the legal system."

The holster was carefully placed into her palm. Wickfield didn't relinquish it just yet.

"Just don't get yourself killed trying to play hero. I'll tell headquarters to have officers come down and check on you later tonight. You're falling right into what they want, I hope you know. After pulling a stunt like this, they're gonna be more reckless trying to get the witness."

Removing the gun at last, Abigail thanked the officer for his words of caution and navigated around the crime scene as best she could until she reached her vehicle.

Locking her car door and starting it, she inspected the firearm.

It was a nine chamber automatic pistol. She was more familiar with semi-automatic, so she would have to be more cautious when handling it so as to not waste bullets. The holster she'd been given came with two extra reams of bullets.

That meant there was a total of twenty-one shots. It wouldn't be enough to withstand a fully loaded assault weapon but would provide ample coverage until help arrived.

Abigail detached the magazine from the gun and clicked on the safety. She checked that the trigger was in the neutral position before setting the gun back into the holster, letting the strap hang on the passenger seat headrest.

She would not let Elaine and Grace be taken from her this way. They deserved a happy life, free of the mistakes she had made.

She depressed the accelerator and started up the navigation to Elaine's house.

Nothing could happen to Elaine. Not when her kiss made her feel the way it did. A sense of warmth and comfort she had felt with no other. She had to do right by her. Their fight could not be their last interaction.

It was a selfish thing to think, but why not be selfish when the world was falling in on itself?

She would let nothing stand in her way.