A/N: Say hello to Riley ^^^
......[(( _ _ ))..zzzZZ(( _ _ ))..zzzZZ]......

POV RILEY:

No longer than thirty minutes, I hustle into the elevator of the UCPD's first floor. The first floor was oddly quite so I figured there must be some huge important meeting happening in the conference room. I hit the eleventh floor button, watching the small plastic circle light up. Before the elevator doors close, a foot is thrown between the slim opening and the doors slide open again. A tall ginger man dressed like an investigator enters the enclosed space. He glances at the buttons and nods before waiting for the elevator door to close.

I stare at the floor numbers increase slowly. The cliche elevator music play in the small space. My eyes flick to the corner to observe the guy standing next to me. I admit I'm bi and I'm not secretive about it. Anyone that looks appealing catches my eye. The man looked professional compared to my last minute throw-on attire. I've never seen him around here before, making me wonder why the man was traveling to the same floor as I was. Did chief call for more help from other areas nearby?

A stubble makes his face look more manly. I could never pull a stubble without being teased by my coworkers. I couldn't understand their need to remind me how baby-face I looked for my age (31); I blame my mom's Asian genes. My right hand fiddles with the side of my coat, impatiently waiting for the elevator to reach pass the sixth floor. The longer I stay here, the more I want to stare at the stranger.

As if sending my anxiety, the guy speaks up, "You are going to the meeting too?" I turn my head with a puzzled expression to face him fully- and wow those are some striking hazel eyes. A red brow lifts at my unusually long reply. I blink, glancing away from his gaze. "Uh. Yes. Wasn't it obvious?" Now, that didn't sound the way I wanted it to sound. Oh boy.

I spot him wince at my blunt unfriendly reply. I had the urge to slap my hand over my face at my horrid social skills. My coworker and friend George told me before on how cringe-worthy my "people" skills were. I remember, whenever I was assigned a case with him, he would prevent me from talking  with the really broken victims. George said I would be so blunt with how their loved one died or how unenthusiastic I was with the case that it would lead to tears for the sensitive victims. He did tell me not to worry about, believing it was because I have been desensitized by the pathetic crimes I have solved.

Handsome stranger replies, "Well aren't you a bucket full of sunshine. Did you sleep on the wrong side of the bed today, man?" I lock eyes with him again, scowling at his remark. I didn't want to antagonize him, seeing that I was the one coming off unfriendly. I'm sorry I'm not a morning person specially on my supposed day off.

I keep silent, waiting for the elevator to finally reach the designated floor. A light bing is emitted from the elevator and the doors slide open. The stranger moved first, placing an unnecessary hand on my shoulder before exiting. A catch a whiff of cigarettes and a citrusy scent. My lips part slightly, in awe before I shaking off that weird feeling building in me. I follow a couple of feet away from the tall ginger- speaking of tall, the guys probably was around six feet because he stands over me a good few inches to my five foot ten height.

As if waiting for me, he opens the door and motions for me to enter first. I scrunch up my face in confusion before going in. I wasn't going to bother with the action; the chief wouldn't like me wasting more time than I already have.

"Ah, Riley. Over here," says George. He sits at the tables closers to the windows. Morning light pours into the room, reminding me that I should be in bed and not at work. Oh well. I make my way to George, giving a nod to the chief before taking my seat by him. He chuckles, "Hey man, sorry you gotta be here on your day off. I heard this is going to be a big case though so that's why the whole homicide division is working on this."

The man is the same age as me so I somehow got along with him fine. He somehow put up with my terrible attitude since he started being a detective three years ago. He's the only guy who's ever sassed me on the job. I appreciated it; George keeps me from becoming more cold than I usually am. He's does well as a detective but that's probably because he gots his smarts from his mother, who's actually Chief Dean. Where else could he get his sass from but a clever black woman like the chief?

George can be considered to be my closest and only friend in the UCPD. I can't say I'm an open individual in my line of work, to my chief's dislike. I couldn't help it; I didn't want personal life to be mixed in with my work. Chief says I should have made more friends after being on the force for a decade but I disagree. She tells me constantly that it wouldn't kill me to get people to watch my back while I'm out working. I don't care if I'm in danger... my worry is people dying because of me. That's why friends aren't something I want to have with work.

Chief clears her throat, hushing the team of detectives, policemen, and desk jockeys of the homicide division. She gets everyone's full attention in a second; we are all waiting for this "big case" she's going to lay on us.

"I am sure everyone is aware of how important this case is. This early in the morning around 3am, we received a call from Redstone Park. A couple reported a body hanging from one of the trees in the park." Everyone begins whispering, wondering what's so unusual about this. Really, what's so different? We just had a suicide yesterday by hanging so another one today isn't a surprise. Coincidental but still not a surprise.

The chief scowls at us all, "You did not let me finish!" It silences us all and she continues, "I'm sure you all believe this is some suicide but from the evidence we have gathered. It is a murder." More whispering happens until she gives all of a us a "you really wanna do that" look. "As I was saying, we found traces of an unidentifiable drug as well as a typed note that made us rule in murder." Chief Dean lifts a paper from her files. She reads it out loud.

"On this day, I have help remove this toxic city's unwanted residence. This woman here has made this city more sinful. She dirties her body by selling herself on the street with other girls I still have not confronted. They all point to her as their most filthiest whore walking among them. I have taken the liberty to help her go down the path of righteousness and cleanse her soul before she meets the judgement from God. I have cleaned but you useless tax-taking never appreciate my work so now I leave my messages for you. I wish for you guys to work better..."

The room feels heavy after the end of the message. This leaves us all tense; is this a letter from a new serial killer? I cross my arms wondering if the suicide from yesterday was the work of this creep. Chief Dean places the paper down before continuing, "I do not want to deem this a serial killer until we know if he or she has killed more like they have stated. I need a full investigation on this from y'all. We do not want to waste time if this is a serial killer. I want reports on all deaths, suicide or murder, about hanging. I expect results before the end of the day. You are all dismissed."

George leans back on his seat like he's been blown away from the news. I, too, am shocked by the announcement. Upside has never had a serial killer before. This city isn't peaceful like we all thought it was? My gaze turns to the chief, remembering what she said before about Upside being eventful before. Should I ask her about that? I let out a hum in thought before a hand on my shoulder makes me jump in my seat. The smell of cigarettes and citrus.

"A serial killer, huh? This is interesting for my first day, won't you say?" My brown eyes narrow at hazel ones before turning its attention to an approaching chief. I push the hand to leave my shoulder when she arrives. Chief Dean glances at us three before sighing, "This is going to be a challenge so I expect you three to do well." She then addresses to me, "I see you have met Hallen Berghim, Swanson."

The guy chuckles with that smooth low voice of his, "It's Hal, chief." His annoying hand is back on my shoulder and shakes me side to side, "I knew it this guy was going to be my partner. You did tell me he looked like he was constipated most of the time." My mouth hangs open from the last statement. I slap his hand away once more with a disgusted grunt. I frown, "What do you mean partner? Chief, you know I don't like assigned partners except George. Why are you forcing me with him?"

"Now now, Swanson. I have everyone on this case assigned with a partner. I don't want anyone alone if this turns out to be a serial killer. I put George with someone else because I think it's time you make another friend. Berghim isn't bad. He's new in this city. Transferred from a different state. Swanson, play nice okay. I got work to do and I don't want to handle you and your teenage-like attitude."

I scoff as she walks away after saying bye. I do not act like a pubesic kid! George snickers beside me before I punch him lightly in the arm. Hal watched us two with amusement in his eyes. I ask George, "What the hell man? Why didn't you stick with me?"

"Aw, I'm flattered you'll miss me, Riley. Let me go and persuade my uptight mother while she judo flips me around for even complaining about her commands." I roll my eyes at his retort then turn my focus to the ginger staring at me. He's been doing that since he's standing there. I like the attention from a good-looking guy but he's already on my lil shit list for even slightly messing with me.

I sigh, "Let's dig through the reports like everyone else." Hal nods while George leaves to look for his assigned partner.

Minutes later I enter my office to find the empty desk on the other side of the room now full of boxes. Hal begins to sort his things and arrange them to his new desk. Did Chief Dean really want me to turn into a rebelling teenager? I can if I have to deal with this guy everyday. I shake my head before skimming through the files I grabbed along the way here. The first report I pulled was the one I just completed yesterday. I pull out photos of the scene and examine them then skim through the autopsy report and my notes.

Unidentified drugs where in the victim's system. I rake my fingers through my dark brown hair. This is going to be a long day. Upside City will become Downside by tonight after Chief's final statement.