The room was dark, except the soft grey light coming through the blinds. She was desperately clinging to the last bits of her dream, but her phone just kept on ringing. Reluctantly, she picked it up, pulling it back under the cover with her.

“Robbins”, she mumbled.

“Kate, are you awake?”, said the familiar voice from the other end.

“Ben?”, she recognized her partner’s voice. “What is it?”

“I’m going to pick you up in half an hour. We are going to Hillrose.”

“What?”, Kate was more awake now. “Why?”

“Work”, came the answer. “Pack for a couple of days, it might take a while.”

With that Ben hung up. Ignoring her body’s protests Kate climbed out of bed and winced when her feet touched the ice cold floor. The room was swaying, like the deck of a ship. Or was it her head? She walked in to her tiny bathroom and splashed some cold water on her face. It helped somewhat, but her head was still swimming. She considered her reflection in the mirror, and felt defeated. Shouldn’t have had that last beer yesterday, she thought. Or any at all. They went to celebrate Halloween with some colleagues and things got out of hand a bit. Kate did not go out often, but when she did, she usually ended up regretting it the next morning. It shouldn’t have mattered, because today was Saturday, and Kate was meant to enjoy her weekend alone at home. Instead, now she was going through her wardrobe, chucking shirts and underwear in her overnight bag, shaking her head ever so slightly.

When Kate climbed into Ben’s car there was coffee and muffins waiting for her.

“Drink that first, then we talk”, Ben said, passing her the paper cup. It was warm to the touch and felt good on her cold fingers.

“Latte, no sugar?”, she asked, and rubbed her eyes.

“Yes”, he sighed. “I wouldn’t dare giving you anything else.”

Kate chuckled, and sipped carefully on her coffee. She and Ben Peterson only worked together for six months – ever since Ben was transferred to Montclair -, but he already knew her morning habits, and that there is no point talking to her before she had her breakfast, unless he would like to be shot down by her monosyllabic, grumpy answers.

He was driving in silence while Kate devoured her bacon muffin and finished her coffee. When she was done, she theatrically folded up the paper bag, gave out a satisfied sigh, and looked like she was magically transformed into a pleasant human being by the breakfast fairy.

“So, Hillrose?”, she asked. “It’s three hours up north. Why do they need us?”

“They found a body this morning”, Ben replied, keeping his eyes on the road. This obviously was not a suitable answer, for Kate continued looking at him with slight puzzlement. He continued. “They don’t have enough people to cover a case like this. It’s a small town. They have two cars and eight officers, all of them part time. Usually they deal with barking dogs, runaway horses, some drunks on Friday nights, and the occasional domestic violence. But this is different. It’s homicide.”