<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;"><em>Jacqueline Meredith Blakesley</em></span> <br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><em>Homicide Inspector Arriving on Crime Scene, Introduction Post</em></span></span></div><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://tinyurl.com/867s24h)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The music playing in her five year old electric Nissan Leaf wasn't much of a damper on the current case she'd been assigned to.  Time and time again she'd been told by her Captain:</span><br/><br/><div align="center"><em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">'Its just a bunch of homeless and street walker kids, murdered.  Stop looking for shadows where there aren't any, Jack'.</span></span></em></div><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">That was just the trouble.  She didn't need to look for the shadows to find them - they were already there.  The most recent victim was a fourteen year old kid, and she suspected she knew the one it was.  There had been this boy, named Kevin that had been picked up four times in the last month for various reasons.<br/><br/>These kids were always tossed right back into the system either from failed foster parents that didn't want them, or worse.  She could already feel the edges of a headache creeping up, and she of all people couldn't afford to be frustrated and with frayed temper.  It was easy to find the spot.  All one had to do was drive nearly to one of the worst parts of San Francisco - not too far from the pockets in the TL that had resisted further gentrification over the last forty years - to find a crowd of people barely restrained by the yellow tape declaring a crime scene active - presuming the traffic was passable, which it often wasn't, these days.  At least she could say she did her part in not increasing her carbon footprint on the earth with her vehicle.  <br/><br/>Jack slid out of her car black car with a frown, the pounding of her head getting more intense by the second.  <br/><br/><em>"This is not even my day, damn it."</em>  <br/><br/>Truth was, before these murders started, she'd been scheduled for vacation time.  <br/><br/><em>"So much for surfing in Hawai'i."</em> <br/><br/>She'd muttered the words under her breath as she headed toward the alleyway with her customary long stride - perfected with the need of walking with men that were taller and bigger than she was.  It was that or fall behind after all.  Her lean and slender form was attired in a simple white shell and black jacket, with skinny jeans to match her low heeled, black leather boots.  Jade and silver rings adorned her ears, and matching bracelet was on her right wrist.  With a flashing of her badge to the officers and at least one lingering Inspector trying to get the story out of residents that would never spill a bean, she worked her way with ease through the crowd and under the tape, thereafter rubbing her temples.<br/><br/>She'd known as soon as she crossed the tape and moved into the alleyway that it would be that damned kid.  Why couldn't they just keep their noses clean and stay out of trouble?  She twisted her longish, messy black hair back up into a chignon that was already falling back in her face.  Must look at least half way professional, right?  So far, she'd been able to do her job without suspicion of dealing with the cases that brushed upon the supernatural; nothing wrong with taking out a thug here and there that would worm his way out of the system anyway.  <br/><br/>Jack noticed Officer Schmidt right away, yet what held her attention was not him, suddenly, nor the other people - but instead it was the strange scorch marks on the walls of the nasty alley they all were crammed into.  The techies had just finished their job - leaving little for the body to be soon carted off by the Medical Examiner on call.  The boy was young, his hair longish and dark, somewhat matted.  Not much a surprise, there either, and she'd expected as well to see the long slitting of his throat that was completed in a nearly ritual fashion - which would have killed him in likely less than a minute, perhaps two if the body fell the wrong way.  The faint smudge of a marking on the back of his neck was just barely apparent to Jack, and she knew precisely what that would be.  More news she couldn't share.  The likelihood that these killings were more and more connected to magic was something she couldn't shake, but what was she to tell the Captain?</span><br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>'Oh, by the way, some demon, or warlock is running about killing kids ...'</em></span></div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Rolling her shoulders, Jacqueline stopped not far from Officer Schmidt's right shoulder, and spoke softly.  <br/><br/><em>"Another homeless kid, I take it?"</em>  <br/><br/>She tucked her hands in her pockets and tipped back her head, dark eyes taking in further details of the scene.  <br/><br/><em>"Looks like this one had his throat slit, and it was a quiet, quick and professional job, like the others ... but I am thinking that the cutting of the throat was done after what ever made these markings."</em>  <br/><br/>Inspector Blakesley had to look up to see her fellow co-worker, as he rubbed a hand over his neatly shorn hair, but that was a normal thing.  Even with her heeled boots, Jack was still pretty short, and relatively harmless looking for a detective.<br/><br/>The fact that she was a witch at the least was not part of the equation ... for the moment.  <br/><br/><em>"You'll probably find that he was a street walker, maybe down on his luck."</em> <br/><br/>Jack had spoken quietly with a faint shrug, very matter of fact.  She knew better than most that shit happened and one just had to muddle through it. Luck was still important to her, even if she was only half Chinese, she'd not ever forgotten her mother's lessons about spirits.  Strange part was that she'd not seen a single one with any part of this investigation so far, and that alone had her twitchy.  Lightly, she ran her fingers along the scar tissue on the left side of her jaw, only really visible if one looked for it.</span>