Page 8 - The Peggy's - Chapter 1

He could kiss her ass often and well if he thought she was going anywhere because he
said so.
Rowena’s smile over pissing off the police commissioner drained from her soul as her
phone beeped. Her private, only two people in this world had the number, phone. A
phone showing her an address on the screen. An address Rowena wished she could
purge from her life’s history. Remove it from her soul if she could.

An address Rowena knew she couldn’t ignore.
“I’m going out,” Rowena announced. Her voice loud as she stood up. Holstered her
firearm and added handcuffs to her utility belt. God knows how much she hated
wearing a cop’s utility belt. Hated wearing a uniform – period.
No one said anything. When you worked in the Dead your life was bad. When you
worked on the Dead’s graveyard shift, your life was beyond fucked up. Why would
any of these old bastards, sent there to run out their days until they retired; care what
she did. It really didn’t matter.

And yet, the Dead had begun to show true results since she’d taken over the
graveyard shift. Each station she was directly responsible was overrun with cases. With
files on top of files. Files which had meaning even though they had ended up in the
Dead’s jurisdiction.
When Rowena was assigned to the Dead Division, most of the assholes who worked
the graveyard shift simply watched TV shows on their smartphones and ate. Donuts
and coffee being the normal food, however, pizza was served often and well.
Something Rowena encouraged as long as she saw results. The files on these assholes’
desks required attention. The men and women under her command required attention
as well. The type of attention none of these police officers had seen much in their
careers. The type she showered on them, and in return, they began to work. They
worked hard even if it was a shot in the dark they would achieve anything.

It was a one in fifty chance anyone would get anywhere with the Dead’s workload.
No one cared about missing persons who don’t want to be found. Cold cases so cold
the witnesses were often long dead. Inventory on evidence that was often three to five
decades old. Working in the Dead was just that, working on the dead.
And yet, under her care, they had started to win on occasion. Every once in a while,
they found something someone left behind. A clue which put all the evidence in its
place to arrest one of the bad guys. In her two months on graveyard, they had closed
fourteen cold cases, found eighteen missing people, and corrected the evidence logs on
over a hundred cases from over twenty years ago.
Another smile filled Rowena’s face. She may be perceived as a disgraced cop, but by
God she was still a cop. She took the reins in the Dead and ran with them. Improved
their working numbers every day. Which of course, pissed everyone off.