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</div>Missy Brooks hated feeling helpless, but it was exactly that kind of a feeling that was forced upon her when dealing with cases like this one. Her hands were planted on her hips while she blew out a huff of air, before glancing towards her partner, Eric. It didn't seem like he had any answers either, so the female's frustration was pinned onto those that were currently working around the corpse. She wanted them to hurry up and give her information, even when the young detective knew that this body wouldn't be getting them anywhere. Just like with the others. One more piece that didn't fit anywhere in the puzzle.<br/><br/>Someone out there was abducting young women and having a helluva 'fun' time with them, before they were dumped like yesterday's trash. All evidence wiped clean. Theory was that this was connected to the human trafficking case that had been ruining Missy's sleep schedule for the past couple of months. And she honestly wanted nothing more than to be able to nail Enzo Marconi to a wall and pin everything on him, but he was a slippery bastard. Even if he would be caught red handed with a corpse and a shovel in his trunk, he'd still manage to get away with it. So much for the system working properly...<br/><br/>But despite her need to be able to prove that this was of Marconi's doing, she still couldn't shake this... feeling. Like there was something they were missing, something that was telling her that it'd be too easy to put these murders in the same folder as the trafficking. However, there was no evidence for anything else. And she couldn't exactly start working out a new theory based on a very vague hunch she got from time to time. Which, quite frankly,<b>sucked</b>. She hated not being able to help. Hated knowing that at this very moment, another girl was probably getting abducted, abused, murdered. Missy had caught a glimpse of the pale face, the features that were still in death contorted from pain and fear. Who would ever get a kick out of torturing and raping another human being? Despite considering herself rather hardened when it came to these things, she still felt how her stomach churned slightly whenever her mind dared to start imagining just what that poor girl had gone through.<br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#9999ff"><br/>
"This is so fucking messed up."</span><br/><br/>The words were spat out underneath her breath while she stared down at the ground, deep in thought. Her feet shuffled restlessly for a few moments, before she suddenly made a beeline towards the crime scene photographer and the analysts. Everybody that knew Missy, or had at some point dealt with her, knew that she was an impatient person that hated dwelling too long on things. And she looooved pumping people for information. Which was exactly why a very audible sigh was heard from both of the analysts as they saw who was approaching. The older of the two stood up from his crouched position and waved his hand as if wanting to ward her off.<br/><br/>"Detective, we are still gathering evidence. I don't think -"<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#9999ff">"Is there <b>any</b> chance at all that the killer left something new behind this time? There's really nothing new about this one? Come on, Brown, I know you can tell me something."</span><br/><br/>George Brown, whom had dealt with his fair share of difficult detectives throughout the many years on the job, sighed helplessly before gesturing down towards the body. He figured it was easier to state what they both already knew, instead of trying to get her to back off. Missy was after all, more persistent and way more of a pain in the butt than any news reporter they'd have to deal with.<br/><br/>"Trust me, detective. If there was anything helpful I could share at this moment, I would. But we gotta wait for forensics to do their job so we can know something more. We'll send the body down there soon enough."<br/><br/>Missy shot him a dirty look before she turned to face Eric, her expression stormy as she regarded her partner. He was the one person that seemed to always have the patience to deal with her, and he was also a big reason for why she was standing here today. They both knew what this meant; another day of having their asses handed to them by their boss whom was, as Missy so often described, Anti-Christ reborn in the body of a woman in her fifties. Everybody were working as hard as they could on these cases but Rebecca Steele, the current chief, apparently always thought that people could do more, do better. And the woman never hesitated about letting everybody know that they weren't trying hard enough. Nobody was safe from her claws and sharp tongue.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#9999ff">"I hate standing around doing nothing. Maybe we should go back to the station and look through the files again? I feel like we're missing out on something."</span><br/><br/>Brown instantly signaled a 'thumbs up' behind the female, obviously trying to encourage Brannigan to take that woman away from there before she'd start stomping around again and asking more questions.