Mariah Cruise

The Heathers

The Heathers Chapter 1 “We've got a floater,” my partner said, hanging up the phone. Crap, I thought, I hate floaters. Give me a normal run of the mill murder victim any day. A waved of nausea washed over me at the thought of a body in the river. I grabbed my coat, gun, and badge and followed my partner to the elevator. We stepped into the elevator after the metallic ding sounded and the doors slid open. The smell of decades-old smoke in the tiny space made my stomach turn again.