“Detective Dawson, this came in for the task force leader.” One of the mailroom girls strolled into Rorie’s office, a five by seven envelope in hand.

“That would be me. Wasn’t the mail already distributed hours ago?” She accepted the package with an amused smile, it was close to five.

 “Affirmative. This one was hand delivered down at the desk. Security had me bring it up.” The young woman grinned and strolled on out.

Sometimes people just couldn’t wait for the post office to deliver what they thought a detective needed to hear from them.

Rorie slid the letter opener across the top of the envelope and stifled a yawn. She needed more coffee.

The exhaustion evaporated the moment she pulled the contents of the package out. Pictures and a wad of tissue. What the f**k was this?

Setting the tissue aside she looked at the first picture, immediately recognizing its subject: Ed Ross – as Teena Clarette – sitting demurely on a sofa and looking like she was sleeping but something in her gut told her otherwise. Rorie began to flip through the pictures in her hand, pictures that were obviously taken in sequence, the first basically tame – Teena sitting, Teena leaning, Teena lying on the same sofa, Teena with perfect makeup and jewelry wearing the gown she’d worn in the Christmas extravaganza at Hunty’s a few holidays ago.

Ed was dead.  In spite of the makeup Rorie could see the pallor and hue waxing the performer’s skin.

The realization still didn’t prepare her for the fourth picture in: Teena still laying there, her head parked next to her neck. There was dark blood splotching the material of the sofa indicating that Teena had indeed been deceased and probably for at least a day given the blood’s color. “F**K.” The word rang loud enough that it brought Ben and Clive into her office, alarm on their faces.

“Rorie? Are you okay in here?” Ben sounded concerned.

“No, no I’m not.” She gingerly sat the pictures on the desk and rose from her chair, reaching for gloves at the same time. “Get evidence up here asap.”

“What the hell is wrong?”

“That’s Ed Ross, one of Gray’s regular show runners – one of his best, the famous one. These pictures show him dead and decapitated and who knows what else? This package was dropped downstairs for me, security had one of the mail girls bring it up. She touched the outside, I touched the contents. We really need them to go over this ASAP.” Rorie carefully picked up the tissue wad, slowly uncrumpling it, there was something inside, she could feel it.

“What is that?” Clive stepped closer.

“It was in the envelope with the pictures.” She eased the paper back, steeling herself with the knowledge that whatever was inside the paper was not going to be good.

And she was right.

It was one of Ed’s ears – with the earring still attached.