[CENTER][H3][B][COLOR=C18DC3][hr]Priya Khurana[/COLOR][/B][/H3][sub][i]Carpenter Home[/i], East City, [b]Lilith[/b] | 7:00 PM [/sub][/CENTER][hr]

She knocked on the door three times. After a brief wait, she tried again. She heard shuffling inside and decided to wait. The door opened finally and an elderly man stepped out. Peter Carpenter was closing in on 80 years old. His face was wrinkled to the point where she was sure it would cave in on itself. However, despite that his eyes were fierce. They bore into her like he'd been doing it for years.

[color=C18DC3]"Mr. Carpenter?"[/color] she asked. The man nodded slightly, "Yes. that's me. What do you want?" [i]To the point[/i] she thought to herself, [i]Fine[/i]. She took out her badge and showed it to him. [color=C18DC3]"My name is Priya Khurana. I'm a detective."[/color] She could swear she saw the fire in his eyes after he glanced at her badge. "I'm not talking to any cops!" he said and made to slam the door in her face. She rushed forward and held it open, [color=C18DC3]"Wait, Mr Carpenter! It's about Sarah. I have news."[/color] Although the heat in his eyes didn't die down, he opened the door again. He looked her over, probably gauging her, before he nodded, "All right, come in."

She entered the man's home and looked around. It was sparsely decorated. It had the bare essentials: some chairs, a TV, a desk. She noticed the pictures on the wall and on the desk itself. Peter stood in one, in his military uniform back when he was probably in his 20s. Then another picture of his wife Marie on their wedding day. She looked beautiful in her dress. The others were of a little girl with long, brown hair in various ages, but no more than 10 years old.

She knew who this girl was. After all, she spent the better half of last month delving into the lives of the Carpenters. The little girl was named Sarah and she was kidnapped. The man responsible was currently serving his time in prison. Sarah was never recovered, though. There was a manhunt, they questioned the man responsible, but he never disclosed where she was and if she was alive. The man was said to be smiling all through his trial.

That was over 40 years ago. Sarah was presumed dead and her family never had closure. Never did a proper funeral because they didn't have her remains. So they spent years quietly grieving their loss. His wife passed on 5 years ago.

Peter went to the kitchen table where a half-done crossword puzzle sat and a cup of coffee. He sat down but made no motion for her to do the same. She took a seat opposite him. [color=C18DC3]"You have a nice home,"[/color] she started. Peter just stared, "I'm not here to talk pleasantries. Say what you have to say and get out. I've heard it all before, anyway." She could detect the pain in his voice, though. She nodded, [color=C18DC3]"I'm a Cold Case detective with the Crescent City police department. For the past month I've been working on your daughter's case,"[/color] she paused, waiting to see if he made any inclination to say anything. He did not. [color=C18DC3]"Well, I've been looking into it. Trying to find out what happened and where she is. Mr. Carpenter, I'll be brief. I know you and your wife put her to rest in your hearts and minds and I am sad to tell you she is dead. But, I am also here to tell you that we found her remains."[/color] That was when Peter finally smoldered the fire in his gaze. Instead, he looked like he might cry. His lip trembled a bit, "What did you say?" he asked. [color=C18DC3]"We found her remains. After years her body has perished, but DNA tests were done to figure it out. She is in the process of being turned over to you and your family."[/color]

Peter brought a hand up to his mouth to cover the soft cries he was letting out. She stood up and walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He took her hand in his and wept openly now. "Thank you!" he said.

[hr]

That was why she did what she did. The closure was needed. Life needed to move on and if you had blocks that prevented it, you suffered. For years the Carpenters suffered in silence. They tried to move on with their lives, but there was always that grief. That trouble. The constant thought of trying to understand when you couldn't.

She worked hard. The case was definitely not easy. She had to go back, re-discover the crime. Talk to witnesses. Talk to the man responsible. He was still smug. She was sure he expected some type of deal to ease his sentence. She had the pleasure of going to see him after they found her body. Seeing the smugness drain out of his face was particularly satisfying. She left him to rot in his cage.

Her own ghosts haunted her still, but they pressured her to get results. And she did. She was considered one of the best. Closing cold cases was satisfying, whether it led to good news or not, closure was needed. Her own battles were still being fought. Prisha deserved closure and justice.

Her phone rang and she answered, [color=C18DC3]"Hello?"[/color] The voice on the other end was Paul Cortez, a fellow detective. "Hey Priya, you are near The Spires right now, yes?" [color=C18DC3]"I am, why?"[/color] Paul sighed, "We are getting some weird reports going on there. Some panicked phone calls about other police officers there. Do you mind checking things out? Shouldn't be more than that, but you are near there and we are short-handed as it is." She let out her own sigh. She really wanted a cup of coffee and to sit down for a minute. Especially to get out of this constant rain. [color=C18DC3]"Fine, but you owe me Starbucks coffee for a week."[/color] Paul chucked, "Like a date?" She hung up, expecting Paul to still be chuckling.

She got into her car and made her way over to The Spires. She would check it out, report back, and hopefully be home in time to catch Grey's Anatomy with her roommate.

What could go wrong?