Detective Maria Cortez and Officer Sean Wilkins arrived on the scene at 8:30 sharp—seventeen minutes after the call had come in—and were immediately overwhelmed by the foul smell.
Wilkins’s face fell.
“Is this what it’s like?” He fingered his shiny new badge and gave his ill-fitting pants a quick hike.
As they neared the body, Cortez let expletives drop, and Wilkins regretted becoming a cop. One hand swatted flies; one covered his nose.
Only somewhat hardened by experience, Cortez knelt to survey the desecrated corpse, blanched, and rose.
Wilkins vomited, then spit; at 8:33, tossed his badge, said, “I quit.”