A Detective Sergeant Sabastian Silver Adventure - Dirty Laundry

The bell above the door jingled like it didn’t know better. If it had, it would’ve stayed quiet. You don’t announce yourself in a place where death already clocked in.

The laundromat on Martin and Elm smelled like bleach, hot lint, and something sharper—something red. Two bodies. One slumped behind the change machine. The other crumpled in front of dryer #5 like she’d dropped mid-spin. Blood turned the tile floor into a murder map, and the hum of the fluorescent lights made everything worse.

Detective Sergeant Sabastian Silver stepped inside, his every movement deliberate. His slacks cut a crisp line. His black tie stayed perfectly straight beneath a tailored jacket. No trench coat, no wrinkles—just precision. The pencil-thin mustache above his lip twitched slightly as he surveyed the room. His fedora sat low over his gray-streaked temples, shadowing sharp eyes that had seen war and worse.

Behind him came Sidney Snow, his partner—one of the only female detectives in the Dallas Police Department. Her coat swung just above her knees, her hair pinned clean. No frills. No nonsense. She didn’t wear gloves or makeup, and never needed to. What she had was better—presence. Enough to make a man rethink calling her “sweetheart.”