Embracing His Syn (Nothing Special 2)

Syn turned and barked at the crowd of officers gathered nearby to do a complete sweep of the path their suspect had taken and to bag and tag all evidence. He ordered two of their men to get statements from the witnesses that had called in the 10-32 and to meet him at the station in an hour. He walked determinedly to one of the Suburbans yelling over his shoulder for Ronowski to take him to the original crime scene on Peachtree.

“I can drive you,” God said sarcastically while giving Syn a ‘fuck you’ look.

Syn gave God the finger before slamming himself inside the large vehicle.

“Damn, I like him.” Day laughed.

Syn walked under the yellow police tape and told one of the uniformed officers to move the perimeter back further. He didn’t want reporters this close to the body. Only a few feet away the coroner was standing next to their victim with a clipboard in his hand.

Syn turned to Ronowski. “Why’s the body still here?”

“God said to leave it until he surveyed the scene,” the young Detective said waving over a couple of uniforms that were nearby.

Syn huffed his frustration as the officers approached looking a little green around the gills. Syn thought this might be their first DB. They looked fresh out of the academy.

“Were you the first on the scene?” Ronowski asked them.

“Y-yes. Are you the guys from G-god’s team?” the smaller of the two stuttered.

“Yes, we are. I’m First Officer, Detective Ronowski and this is their third in command, Sergeant Sydney. God and Day will be here soon. You can tell us what you observed after responding to the call.” Ronowski folded his arms over his chest and waited for the men to stop staring at them in awe and answer his question.

One of them pulled out a small notebook and began reading off some information to them. “Um, um. T-the s-suspect, I mean v-victim.”

Ronowski put both his hands up and shook his head slowly, cutting off the nervous cop's stuttering. “Whoa, calm down buddy. Just tell us what you saw.”

The other officer began speaking for his anxious partner. “We responded to the 10-10 that came over the radio, expecting to find a fight in progress, but when we pulled up, there were two people standing over the man in the alley. They fled on foot when we flashed our lights."

“Were they male or female? Did you get a look at either one?” Ronowski asked.

“They had on dark, baggy clothes and hoodies. I radioed that both appeared to be about five-six or five-seven. That’s all I got. My partner gave chase but lost them when they separated. He called in a vague description and came back to me here at the scene. I checked for a pulse and radioed in the victim was DOA. The victim had sustained multiple blows to the head.”

“Was that your observation or is this from the coroner?” God’s deep voice immediately followed the green officer's report.

Everyone turned to look in their direction. God and Day walked ahead of six of their men. Although God was unapproachable and threatening, towering at almost five inches taller than his partner, everyone knew how deadly Day could be. Both men wore black shirts with the APD emblem over their left pectoral. God had on black cargo pants, while Day wore tight, dark denim jeans. God’s thigh length leather coat stretched tight over his broad back and swayed along with the gold badge hanging from his neck. Day’s tight red and black leather biker jacket looked like he should’ve rolled up to the scene on a Ducati Diavel. If anyone saw this group walking down the sidewalk, that they were cops would be the last thing they'd think of. Thugs was more like it.

“Um. That was my conclusion, sir, confirmed by the coroner though,” the officer responded, watching God with wide eyes as he squatted, lifting the sheet from the body.

Syn encouraged, “Go on officer.”

The officer cleared his throat before speaking again. “We didn’t find any weapons, and no witnesses to the actual crime. The custodian for the upstairs office heard the commotion and called 911, but claims he didn’t stick around to watch the fight.

“Where does that door lead to?” Day pointed at a door which opened out onto the dark alley.

“I looked it up. It appears to be a small film studio,” the other officer finally stopped staring at God long enough to add to the conversation. “Porn films.”

Day looked up in amusement. “Shut the fuck up.”

The two cops nodded. “That’s what we pulled up in the system. We went around to the front. It’s locked and no one’s inside. We called the number registered to the address, but got no answer.”

“Who’s the owner of the company?” God asked.

The officer flipped a couple pages on his notebook. “Illustra is owned by Johnathan Mack. We also have a list of all the performers and staff.”