BOOK ONE : Devil in the Details

The sun had just set in the horizon, leaving the city streets of L.A. in a new burst of color and light. Packed between buildings both short and tall rest a dinghy little club with people lined at its entrance, their voices rise into the night and nearly drown out the cars. The building had chiseled brick walls with a thick grey paint brushed over them with accents of black and teal.

At the door a big guard stood, checking tickets. Besides him was a big poster depicting a band, each member standing side to side in a post grunge sort of way.

At the side of a building, a little curved away from the crowd and obfuscated enough to hide a person- light pooled into the alleyway as someone stepped into it. A face from the poster was tapping a cigarette out of a pack as the door smacked shut with a thud behind him. On his hip he had two drumsticks tucked into his belt pointing him out to be the drummer of the band people were here to see.

After he took a drag, slowly exhaling the smoke, he leaned back against the rough exterior of the dark brick wall behind him. The night had just begun, the distant sound of muffled music and cheers from inside the bar filling the quiet air around him. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment of peace before the rest of the night unfolded.

He wasn't the only one in the alley that night.

The drummer's solitary moment was shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps coming from beside him. Quickly turning his head, his eyes shifted around in the darkness. It could be anything, a fan wanting an autograph or a crazed person wanting something else. Band life wasn't glorious, tour life taught him that much.

"Who's there?"

He called out into the darkness, a sense of unease rising in his gut. In the dimly-lit alley,  a shadow moved toward him, illuminated eerily by the soft glow of the street lamps at the end of the way. As the figure drew closer, his heart raced faster. With no vocal confirmation, he had started to picture the worst.

"Duke you have no survival instincts."

The shadow laughed at him in a voice he recognized, his shoulders fell slightly- not realizing how tense they had been before.

"Vira, You- you scared the fuck out of me!"

Duke let out a sigh as she stepped close enough for him to see. The two of them shared a smile before she reached for the door, it swung open and light poured in once more. Followed by a rancor of noise, her face leaned in close to his and for a moment they shared a kiss.

"Don't take too long~ We got a packed house tonight."

The drummers eyes fell to her hand on the door, tucked between her fingers was a small baggie. He went to open his mouth and say something but she beat him to it.

"Just for tonight Duke-ems."

Her voice lowers significantly; "Promise."

The door shut behind her with a resounding thud, leaving Duke alone once more in the darkness. His attention raised by a burn in his fingers,

"Fuck! My cigarette -"

He hissed sharply, dropping the smoldering butt to the ground. It had burned itself without his assistance, his boot came to crush it out just as he heard a small crunch of plastic somewhere behind him.

Unfortunately for Duke, he didn't have the benefit of fear this time.

A cold feeling pools in his back, it's sudden, and instinctively he goes to reach for it. Instead all he can taste the cold grime of mud and gravel, the cold blooms into heat as it rises from the small of his back to his shoulders. His mouth agape, a noise finally leaves him: A curtling scream, he lies face first on the asphalt as his hands desperately claw and grip for something to pull him away.

It was cold and hot, his eyes rolled back as his noise trailed off. The only thing his ears processed was the soft squelch of his flesh being divided by a blade.

His scream attracted a few people waiting for their tickets outside, a small group hearing the scuffle started down the alley raising their voices - but the silence assailant was already gone.

The side door swung open and Vira stepped through, her eyes blown as they fell upon the body- and goodness; She screamed.

The coming hours were nothing great for the famed lead singer Elvira. The woman was now huddled behind the alley, chain-smoking cigarette after cigarette, her fingers fidgeting with the pack in her hand. The dimly lit street was full of flashing lights and paramedics, save for the occasional passing car nothing kept her attention. The oppressive night weighed heavily on her shoulders with each noise and word. She chewed absentmindedly on the skin around her nails, mind plagued with the thoughts of the events that had unfolded earlier.

The blood, the passerby screaming, Duke in her arms being cradled as she pleaded with him to hold on.

Viras usually warm blonde locks bounce wildly in the night breeze, faintly streaked with maroon, framed against her slender shoulders. However, her normally flawless face held signs of distress, a slight puffiness around her eyes that was now heavily smeared with dark smudges of makeup from all the crying. A pill she took half an hour ago had just begun to turn in the pit of her empty stomach and pool a sense of ease across her skull, dulling out her headache.

She wore what she was going to perform in, a cloth choker, a skintight black dress that seemed to have been recycled from a long old band shirt shirt. It had a broad neck cut and showed off the cross necklace resting just at her collar bone. Her legs were bare for all but wide fishnets and a thigh brace, bracelets hung loosely and firmly from her blood stained arms. Her boots were aged and still have the light maroon stain of blood on the side of them from stepping to try and help Duke.

Paparazzi were circling the outskirts like vultures, scowling and glaring at the relentless horde of snapping cameras was all she could do at that moment. But behind the facade of anger, a whirlwind of  uncertainty was stirring within her, a churning turmoil of emotion that threatened to overtake her as the enormity of what had happened squeezed her chest.

Elvira Kane, known to her wiki as a enigmatic teen star gone dark. She had many connections in L.A both good and bad, even if one outweighed the other. A grunge metal girl who shot to stardom the second her controversies did, her band's album got them a one year tour which they had just returned back from last week. This was supposed to be their first gig back home, turns out it may be their last.

Viras' swirling thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a familiar face - a figure she instantly recognized. The sight of her was almost a small ray of hope cutting through the darkness of the night.

"Chloe?"

Viras called out in disbelief, her voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and relief. The detective's brow furrowed for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden use of her first name.

“Wait, I'm sorry do I know y-” 

Before she could even finish her own thought, realization dawned on her and Decker instantly stepped forward. “V?” A hand came out to rest on her arm. “You're back from tour?” 

The two have not kept in touch much, except when Vira offered her to come to a concert. 

“Just got back.” Elvira let out a breath, leaning forward to snuff out a cigarette on the side of her boot.  “Fucking crazy the cop I get is you.” When she says this there's a tang of bitterness but it's overburdened by the relief to see someone she knew.

Chloe intakes a short breath and nods slowly. “I'm still going to need your statement.” Her voice was a bit softer now, seeming to peel back a layer of vulnerability from the singer.

“Yeah.” Her voice cracked a bit, fucking hair behind her ear, suppressing a shudder. “Guess we should, shouldn't we?” Vira leaned off the wall and the moment she did it hit her at once. The numbing effects of the pill she took earlier, feeling much more energized and warm. 

“I wanna find the son of a bitch who did this.” Elvira said firmly, her tone icy.