"Has anyone contacted the family yet?" Carla asked me as I drove back to the station through the snow and ice.

"Not that I know of." I said, but then she gave me this look that I knew all too well. I sighed. "All right, I'll handle it. But you will have to deal with this kind of thing sometime, you know."

We both stayed silent after that.

It's always quieter at the station around this hour. Most people have already gone home, I guess. I think it's too quiet but Carla insists it helps her think clearer. And uure enough, the second we arrived at our office, she took off her coat and sat down at her desk. I watched her from across the room, feverishly typing away on the computer. She was a true goddess of work ethic. How she managed it, I'd never know.

Carla could do anything, it seemed, and yet she fell to pieces when faced with talking to victims' families, the very people we were trying to get justice for.

I was happy to help in any small way that I could. Although, part of me knew that I was putting it off.

By six in the morning I had yet to make the call.

It hit me that the victim's wife was probably waking up and realizes that her husband never came to bed. Sam was probably thinking the same thing. She was always worrying that I would get hurt or killed on the job. I had to do what was right here, so I picked up the phone and dialed the number.

It rang only once before someone answered.

"Hello? John, is that you?" a woman's voice asked.

"No, ma'am. Is this Mrs. Winston?"

"Yes..." she confirmed, and I could hear the panic in her voice. "Who is this?"

"My name is Tyler Miles and I'm a detective with the DYPD. I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news about your husband. . ."

)O(

I'd assured Mrs. Winston that we were not going to rest until we found the killer, but my shift ended not long after that and I for one needed some rest.

I let myself into the apartment which was dark since the curtains were closed and the sun didn't ever seem to come out anyway. Sam was curled up in bed wearing nothing but one of my basketball jerseys. She had her back turned to me.

After stripping down to my boxers, I slipped under the covers beside her, careful not to accidentally wake Sam up. I thought that I was in the clear.

"You didn't keep your promise..." she murmured.

It had been almost a year since my last cigarette but I could sure as hell use one at that moment. I tried closing my eyes, hoping that sleep would follow, but all I could see was the blood staining the tile of that diner. I knew my girl had more harsh words for me but all I could hear was Mrs. Winston's hysterics. I knew that in just a few short hours Carla would be calling with new revelations, theories and the latest updates. Then she'd order me to get my ass to work so we could debrief or whatever.

Most of all, I knew that none of us were going to be able to rest until this case was solved.

Sometimes I thought my life would he a whole lot easier if people didn't go around killing each other.

But it was my job to put the psychos away and make the streets safer for people and their families, as well as Sam and the family I might have someday.