luck of the draw

The kid wore a red bandana and a Lakers jersey. His girl, as she was assumed to be, wore designer jeans, a Saints sweatshirt and had a tiny blue heart tattooed on her left cheek. Both were dead. Shot in the back of the head. Cops found no signs of forced entry and not much else. The report would hit the news in half an hour. Perhaps something would break, then. Or not. Edwin “Maize” Walker was the detective assigned to the case. His turn. Bad draw. And he knew it. This one would take too much time and no one would care, anyway. He was right about the former, but dead wrong about the latter. Literally.