[Criminal investigation + deductive mystery + no romance + two equally strong leads + realistic + serious tone]
At sixteen, she lay in the space above the ceiling, watching helplessly as a drug lord tortured her brother to death.
He never made a sound before he died, because he knew she was listening.
His final three words: Don't fear the rain.
Eight years later, she went undercover in the household of the man who had killed her brother. She couldn't wear her police badge around her neck, so she carved one into a bar of soap. She'd traced it with her fingers for eight years, until it was nearly worn away.
By day, she called the drug lord “Boss.” At night, she ran her fingers over the shape in the soap, reminding herself again and again who she was.
In the end, she too died on a night of torrential rain. She felt her bare neck one last time, then pressed the bar of soap into her partner's hand.
The Wall of Honor for Fallen Heroes bears 213 names. Not one of them is real.
