Lanced police detective Charlotte Maitland scribbled notes on the victim's chart. She propped the flashlight in her mouth to maneuver the pencil. Her ashen face reflected off the wrinkled chart paper. Charlotte sighed softly; the aroma of death wafted through air. Her instincts told her this case would be forgotten fast. Without a solid lead, the killer would likely escape. Ducking low, Charlotte exited the morgue towards her car. She needed answers; her mind buzzed with clues and questions. Each step felt heavy as if dragged with lead chains. The day was barely started, and her heart was sinking.