"That Could Have Been You"

I. For being a dark part of downtown, a place where it wasn't uncommon to see a drug deal transaction or a street walker to find a nights prospect, Marysia was glad to find that the street she was standing on was at least well lit from the scattered light posts positioned on both sides of the street, giving everything a florescent orange glow. The weatherman had said there would be light showers with a cool breeze coming in from the north; unusual weather for late August. Marysia was thankful the rain never showed, but she wished the wind would die down a bit. Not only were her blonde locks blowing into her face, but her mini skirt gave her legs little protection against the wind or the prying eyes of men. Though there was quite a bit of activity two blocks up the street from people seeking booze from the liquor store and porno films from the adult bookstore next to it, where she could certainly find someone to want her company, she kept her distance, glancing often to the blue van parked on the curb three blocks to her left.

She wasn't exactly comfortable being there, and it wasn't just from the hose were bunching, her high heeled shoes were rubbing against her skin, surely causing a blister to form, and her ear was being talked off by a not so attractive hooker who called herself Crystal and had decided to work the street with her. Maybe this woman wouldn't have seemed such a distraction if she hadn't have had a nasal voice or such obnoxiously rouge cheeks and aquamarine eye shadow, trying to make herself look younger than she actually was, possibly early thirties. All she wanted to do was yak about her misguided experiences over the past three years of strange men picking her up and the kinky things they wanted to do. Marysia was politely trying to give her the clue that she didn't want her around the area she was working; she would take a few steps away but like a magnet the woman followed. She changed the tone of her voice many different ways, from boredom to hatred, but the gal just didn't get it. All she wanted to do was share her experiences.

"Okay, so it's a common misconception. We ain't all pretty like you, but honey, they take us anyway." Crystal paused a moment to inhale from her cigarette, "You'd be amazed at the husbands that come 'round here, sick of their wives not puttin' out." She gave an uneasy laugh, "Them bitches don't know how good they got it."

Marysia shifted off her right foot, her calf cramping, unused to the three inch heels, but she plastered a fake smile on her face, trying to act the part, "How in the world do they got anything if they can't keep their man?"

"Exactly."

Crystal tossed down her cigarette and pulled out a new one from her small leather purse. The butt rolled across the ground, still smoldering, and landed against Marysia's heel. Crystal offered a cigarette to her, but Marysia just gave her a weak smile and stomped out the butt on the ground. Marysia really had no interest in babbling any more with this hooker on the woes of being a whore. She just had to drone it into her head that this was only a job. She wasn't really prostituting herself, she just had to look the part of a street walker. And Crystal wasn't helping anything. Marysia had a hard enough time trying to keep her mind on the job than also having to deal with not having an asthma attack from the woman's persistent blowing of smoke in her general direction. She just didn't know how to ease away from her without raising suspicion.

"Damn, this is a slow night," Crystal breathed out, glancing at her cheap leather strapped Tweedy Bird watch, "Nearly 12:20 and still no takers."

Marysia found her ticket out, "Yeah, too slow for me. I'd wanted at least one by now-you know, an eighty-dollar workout. Guess I expected too much." She turned and took two steps before she feigned a sigh, "I guess it's back to Big Tom."

"Tom? You got a pimp?" Crystal sounded surprised.

"Worse, jealous boyfriend," Marysia gave her a wink, "What he don't know can't hurt him."

II. She heard Crystal chuckle before she was finally out of earshot. But not out of earshot of her five guardians watching over her on surveillance. This being their first night on assignment, their adrenaline was high. All Marysia thought as she heard a few voices shouting cat calls at her through her ear piece as she strutted down the street, coming closer to the van, was that she was grateful she wasn't the only female on the team.

"Hey baby, how was your fine friend Crystal? Man were her pants tight." Mari could tell from his youthful chatter that this was Mikel Shelts, a 29 year old new comer to the precinct, single, and someone who couldn't be happier with his job, especially this particular assignment. Having only known him for three months, Marysia considered him quite the lady's man and certainly not someone who would ever be interested in a plain tomboy like her.

"I might take her home to play." Blake Pollec, the oldest male of the group, an honorable 42 years old, chided.

"And if you do, I'll send you straight to a cell like all those other perverts." Marysia chuckled at hearing her feisty coworker and friend Rosa pipe in her words of chastisement. "You guys need to shut your traps. She doesn't need this harassment from you. She's getting it enough out there."

Marysia herd a few groans and apologies from the guys and smiled to herself. She knew she could trust these guys, that they were only kidding, but Rosa was right, especially with what had happened earlier that night.

Crystal had thought it was a slow night. Yeah right. It hadn't been until she had shown her sorry ass. A total of five potential perpetrators had driven up between 9 and 10pm alone. Two were old geezers looking to get lucky (good luck). One was of a guy who looked like he had been crying his eyes out, and from the McDonalds Snow White dwarf key chain hanging from the rear view mirror and the Beanie Baby frog in the back seat window of his suburban, she demised he had probably just had a fight with his wife and told him to go home-before he sped away he gave her a look of fear that she had been able to figure things out. The last two vehicles that showed up before Crystal were the worst. What is it with Frat boys and sexual innuendos? She seriously didn't get the fascination of males with not only dominating woman's bodies but their minds too. Everything those boys shouted were meant to be hurtful and degrading, but to them they were enticing a whore with money to pleasure them. She blatantly told them to get lost in not so pretty terms.

III. "Black Lincoln, 8 o'clock," Marysia heard Blake say through her earpiece.

Marysia had been taught a few tips from a prostitute. Don't look too interested or you'll look desperate and no one will want you. Never take their first offer, show that you have the control; it's quirky but sometimes a guy likes to be dominated. With these tips, and for some reason "Lady Marmalade" popping into her head, she kept walking. The tune gave her the confidence that she could be seductive. Marysia paused from walking and stuck one knee out, running her hand down the inside of her thigh with a 'come and get me' gleam in her eyes. She heard Mikel's strained comment that no one looking would be able to resist that. If the car held someone who was looking for a good time, it would stop. It didn't stop, but it did drastically slow down from it's previous 'get away' speed, and came to a steady roll, but it never stopped.

Marysia's heart was in her throat, the song and her confidence leaving her mind; she didn't feel right about how she was touching herself and she didn't like the looks of this car. The windows were black so she couldn't see in, but she could feel that she was being looked at, evaluated. It made her feel dirty and cheap, things she knew she was not. She couldn't have been more thankful that the car sped off once it passed her. A part of her was disappointed. If they would have stopped and tried to pick her up she could at least find out how much of a pervert the driver behind the wheel was.

IV. A chilling scream came from a female down the street, somewhere near the liquor store. Marysia, completely off instinct, began to sprint towards the source, catching a glimpse of Blake and Mikel leaving their posts to help the one in need, guns drawn but pointed down, just in case. Marysia couldn't move as quickly as her male partners; they did not have the hindrance of wearing heels or raw blisters. She flung her heels off, not really caring that she could get injured if she stepped on a piece of broken glass or something else that lined the filthy pavement. All that was going through her mind was someone was in trouble and her duty as a law officer was to assist.

She reached the entrance of the unlit alley she had seen her partners run into, but instead of finding them she was suddenly knocked back by someone's fleeing form. After blinking a second, Marysia saw it was Crystal, who was crying hysterically. Once Crystal seemed to register that she was standing in front of a familiar face, she clung onto Marysia, crying into her shoulder. Marysia didn't know what was going on and she gave Blake and Mikel a very confused glance as they walked up to them.

"She was the only one here, but ran off before she'd talk." Blake said.

At the sound of his voice Crystal looked at Marysia with fear and tried to run off again but Marysia grabbed her arm.

"Crystal," Marysia yanked on the woman's arm and forced her to look at her, "Hey, why did you scream?"

"." Was all Crystal could stutter.

Marysia looked to Mikel, who nodded and stepped into the alley, grabbing a flashlight from his belt, gun still at hand.

"Did you see anybody?" Marysia asked, stepping back from the woman a bit.

Crystal looked like she was trying to compose herself, taking deep breaths and long blinks, "A car, passed me kinda slow.I saw it come down here. A minute later it sped out." Just as Marysia had thought the woman was getting a hold of herself, she started blubbering again, "I don't know why I looked."

"Call an ambulance! She's still alive!!!" Mikel's voice echoed though the alley.

Blake yanked his radio off his belt and called it in.

Marysia wished she had her normal uniform on instead of the miniskirt and revealing red halter-top. It was hard for her to feel comfortable doing her true profession in it. But currently she had no choice, "Crystal, did you see who was driving the car, the make-anything to catch this guy?"

Physically shaking, Crystal said, "The windows were dark, I think. The car was navy blue or black."

"The Lincoln," Marysia said under her breath. Damn, she hated it when her intuition was right. And now the perpetrator was gone. "Blake, did we get a plate on the Lincoln?"

Blake used his radio to ask Rosa. Marysia could hear the woman's feisty retort crack back, "It didn't stop. We can't keep track of every god damn car that passes by."

"Well tell her that god damn car could hold a potential murderer." Marysia shouted towards Blake's hand, not really expecting the radio to pick up her voice.

Crystal's eyes went wide and she took a step back, "You guys are cops. Oh shit."

"Hey, we're not arresting you. We can only take in those we catch in the transaction. You're lucky it was a slow night," Marysia added a warning edge to her voice and pointed down the alley, "You wanna not end up like that girl, you'd better find a different profession. That could have been you."

Crystal's face went hard at that statement and she refused to look Marysia in the eyes. After a moment she rolled her shoulders and shifted her weight, "Do I have to go in? Testify or something?"

Marysia nodded to her, then indicated Blake, "Officer Pollec will escort you to our van."

Blake started to walk out of the alley, but Crystal was hesitant, her face showing she did not trust them. Marysia rolled her eyes, "We're not taking you in, okay. That's just where we have the equipment to take your statement. Now go with him."

V. "God, isn't one of you going to help me down here?" Mikel shouted.

Marysia pushed Crystal to follow Blake before rushing to aid Mikel. The pavement was cool under her feet and she nearly slipped from a disgusting oily film covering it. As she neared Mikel, she could see two bare legs peaking behind a dumpster and the closer she got, she could also see the blood pooling around the girls body. The poor blonde's cloths were non- existent, but Mikel had removed his jacket to give her some decency. Marysia dropped to her knees across from him, not really knowing how she could help; in no way was she a medical team.

Before Marysia could say anything, Mikel blurted out, "I don't want to forget what she told me. Black raven, 7pm the day the towers fell. Then she said a bunch of numbers. 0.9.3...1.3..5.8.8."

"Damn, you could remember that?"

Mikel's eyes registered anger, but his eyes were focused on the girl below. "I've droned it into my head the last three minutes while you yakked with that tramp."

"Hey, I thought you wanted her." She teased.

"God Mari! Cut the shit. This girl is dieing here."

Marysia sucked in a breath at how intense he was. The playboy, always joking about how things went on these type of assignments, was now more serious than she'd ever seen him. And he was right. She could have slapped herself for being so out of tune with this situation. There was a dieing woman in front of her for Christ's sake. Something about this lifestyle she had been faking had made her forget the danger that came with it. She considered them low lives, people who didn't care about anyone but themselves and didn't mind what they had to do if it paid. To her, it was just a role game, something that could never really touch her. For this poor girl below her, it had been a loosing game.

"Is she a hooker?"

Mikel sighed heavily, "No way to tell. I couldn't get anything else out of her before she blacked out. I figure her stab wounds are pretty deep, maybe even have a punctured lung-but she's still breathing."

Mikel wrinkled his eyebrows and looked at the girl again, causing a few strands of his tawny hair to fall into his eyes, which he brushed back with a blood covered hand. The blood clumped his hair and smeared on his forehead; he jerked back his hand once he felt what he'd done and looked at it with a sickened awe. Marysia saw how lost he looked; she was sure this wasn't the first time he's had to assist a dieing victim, but this one he was really taking to heart. It was totally different from anything she'd seen from him.

Soon the sound of a siren began to reverberate through the alley, soft at first, then blaring as the ambulance found its way closer to the alley. Mikel stood to direct the ambulance to their location. The vehicle found them, illuminating the darkened alley in alternating flashes of red and white. The headlights stung Marysia's eyes and she raised up a hand to block the light as three paramedics rushed forward with a gurney. She stood up and took a few steps back to give them space to do their job. As Mikel shouted to them the girls condition, she turned her head to watch them begin to examine the girl but their bodies obstructed anything she could have seen. They were careful and quick about getting her onto the gurney. Mikel's jacket fell off of her, leaving her nude form exposed, letting Marysia see her blood stained body and five stab wounds on her chest. Five slits into her flesh that gave no indication to how deep the wounds actually went because the cuts were so clean. Clean, but still the girls life was ebbing away with every drop of her blood.

Soon the ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring, giving the alley back to the darkness.

VI. Marysia, dressed in a plain blue t-shirt and jeans, moved over to the coffee machine, needing a boost of caffeine to start her afternoon. She was relieved to be able to wear something she could move around comfortably in compared to her getup the night before. She wasn't looking forward to putting that trashy garb on later that night, but an assignment's an assignment. She just wished she didn't feel victimized on the job. It was hard for her to understand how women could go out every day and sell themselves; it was so degrading, no matter how much money could be made. She heard Rosa rummaging through the lounge fridge and sigh in relief that her bagged lunch hadn't been tampered with.

"I think that's the first time this week this chicken salad has been here. I guess my cookin' is irresistible."

Marysia gave her a faint smile, but looked away.

"Hey, chica," Rosa sat down at the linoleum table, "You look like you've got a lot on your mind."

"I think last night was the worst I've ever had on the job," Marysia said as she stared into her coffee. Her voice might have sounded like she was joking, but she meant it.

"Yeah," Rosa said, "That was rough. The way those guys mouthed at you."

Marysia knew she wasn't going to mention the stabbed girl, but she wanted to talk about it, "Rosa, you know that's not what I meant. We never would have expected that girl to fall in our lap like that..I don't understand it; with all the warnings these girls get, they still sell themselves."

"Did you feel pretty last night? Did you once think you were something desired?"

Marysia cocked her eyebrows, "What are you saying, that women have to get trashed on in order to feel good about themselves."

Rosa shrugged, "Some of them."

"Well not me. I am fine with who I am."

"Yeah, boy friendless, living alone all the time, you're really fine. Tell me, do you ever spend any time away from this building? Are you ever not just 'one of the guys'?"

One thing that Marysia sometimes hated about having her childhood friend as a close partner was that Rosa knew too much about her and never hesitated to tell her the God-awful truth. So what if she chose to put her job before her personal life; to her there was nothing else she liked to do. She was the job. Only this new assignment was so unlike anything else she had been given; this wasn't highway patrol or going after a robbery suspect. If it were, she would have been able to have worn comfortable shoes and not shown the amount of skin that she had. Nor would she have tried to lure men to her through lurid movements.

It surprised her when Mikel was even affected by her, saying she was irresistible. He was most likely more talk than anything when it came to his conquests with women, but those she'd seen with him were the pretty, not sultry kind. Last night she had been as sultry as one could become and he'd reacted somewhat; yes it had only been one sentence and she wasn't able to see his face, if he was truly intrigued or not, but she was kinda hoping he was. She wanted to be seen as a woman and not just the badge. In some ways, with this assignment she was proving to herself that she was feminine.

"I know I do nothing but work all the time, but I do want things different. It's just a matter of how I get to them. I guess the timing's never been right."

Blake walked into the lounge and put some change in the vending machine, "How are you ladies this afternoon?"

Marysia groaned, not really wanting to restate how miserable she felt at the moment.

Blake nodded, "Mike's not taking it to well either, especially now that girl your friend found died."

"The Chiquita died?" Rosa asked.

"Before they reached the hospital last night."

Marysia looked up at him in disbelief; they had gotten to her, sent her to the hospital, and it was all for nothing? She sighed. "What is that, the fourth this month?"

"I don't know, maybe more." Blake stated, "But this one doesn't sound like the others. There was no mutilation."

Marysia closed her eyes for a moment at recollecting the briefing their team had been given and all the graphic pictures that had gone along with it. Three white blonde women, mid to late-twenties. All girls who worked the same three block strip found stabbed to death and pinkie fingers missing-the killer's calling card. He was the real reason they had been out the previous evening, waiting on the same strip those girls had, and Marysia, the most attractive 27 year old, green eyed natural blonde on the force, had been chosen as bait.

"But get this," Blake added, "that victim wasn't even a hooker."

"She wasn't?" Rosa asked.

"Great. Now we've got two cases on our hands." Marysia breathed.

"Nuh uh. We're stickin' to what we started." Blake replied, "Broker and his team's lookin' into this new one."

"Has Mikel told them what the girl told him before she passed out?" Marysia asked.

"I don't know. Nothing was mentioned about it."

Marysia stood, "I'd better make sure he did it. He told me what she said, but I can't remember most of it or I would tell Broker myself."

VII The precinct was not very busy for 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Probably only fifteen uniformed officers were on duty at this hour, but more would be called in as the afternoon progressed into night. Marysia hated the atmosphere that came with the night; how people felt they could let their demons out in the darkness. Why couldn't they do their perverse crimes in the daylight so she could sleep during descent hours?

She pushed open the door to Mikel's office with a little aggression, her thoughts still looming-but all thoughts stopped when she looked at him. He really was taking this hard. He was staring out his office window with his feet propped on his desk, which was strewn with stacks of papers, as if he hadn't taken the time that day to do any work. His five o'clock shadow was something she'd never seen on him, and neither were the red streaks that lined the whites of his eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" Marysia asked quietly.

"Jesus!" Mikel jumped in his chair, his feet crashing to the floor. Once he saw who it was, he ran his fingers through his hair, "Sorry, Mari-didn't hear you come in. Ya need something?"

"Um," She said, stepping closer to the desk, "Just seeing if you knew Broker's takin' last night's case."

"Yeah, I heard."

"Well, I just wanted to make sure you told them what she told you."

"God, I have been a cop for five years, I think I know how to do my job."

Marysia raised her eye brows and took a step back, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone."

But before she could leave, he stopped her, "Mari, when you're out there, do you feel we've got your back?"

She shrugged, "Sure. Why?"

"The girl, last was undercover FBI."

"Oh God," Marysia suddenly felt week in her knees and she placed a hand on the door to steady herself, "Didn't she have somebody covering her? What was her case?"

"Everything's classified," Mikel mocked someone's nasal voice, "That's all they'll tell me."

Marysia's mind was reeling from this information. She had always been under the impression that FBI protected their own even more than any police force. What could have possibly happened that an agent had been murdered? Here she had been thinking she was safe on this assignment, when she was faking the most dangerous profession a woman could have. She had been on the force for three years; she knew the statistics of how many prostitutes are murdered every year. How could her own team protect her if things went wrong when the FBI couldn't even do it?

"Mar, you okay?" Mikel asked.

She looked up at him, not wanting him to see she was afraid, "Sure. You?"

Mikel sighed, "I just feel connected, you know. I tried to save her life- she confided in me the information."

"You don't have to come out tonight with us." The words were her own, but she wished she were the one being told them, "Take the night off, get some rest."

"Nah. I'm alright." Mikel shook his head and leaned back into his chair, staring at the ceiling, "Her blood was on my hands. It just makes think of what I have to show for my life, and it doesn't seem like I've got much." He looked back at her, "I've never had a case hit home like this."

At his faint, uneasy smile, Marysia nodded and walked out. He had no idea how close this did hit home.