Cold Cases and Bitter Enemies

An unknown enemy wanted to take everything from us.

Graves
I'd spent all of my forty-plus years paying for mistakes when I'd simply been human. Living my life in the shadow of the happiness my friends from the Cold Case Unit found grew harder every day. I didn't mind being the odd one out; didn't mind being considered the unloveable straight-laced-ish one to their mayhem. Acceptance after a lifetime of not measuring up was nice. I'd found my rhythm and my place among the weirdness of my unit. That was until Marcel Douglas the new ego-manic in Homicide decided he had to pick apart every case I'd left behind.

Douglas
Leaving Chicago hadn't been in my plans, but my daughter needed me. I'd do about anything to make her happy. When her mother was transferred out of the States I'd moved so my daughter could stay with her friends—the place she'd come to love. Being at the bottom of the hierarchy and earning respect didn't sit right with my pride. I wasn't afraid to admit that. And I'd made one hell of an enemy. Graves and his Cold Case Unit frustrated me and I didn't understand their method. A series of body dumps brought me back to Graves for help, but he wasn't feeling charitable.

We'd thought we were our biggest and bitterest enemies until the threats came, could we work together before the man gunning for us could finish the job?