Part 2
September the 20th, 2003

Hey, the name is Nora Delaney, and I am a detective for New Orleans Police Department. My partner of the last 10 years just got promoted to Lieutenant, after the previous boss got promoted up to Captain due to a retirement and a death in the long line of bayou civil servants. I get my new partner tomorrow, to be Dan’s first duty as Lieutenant, at 8am sharp. I am not really looking forward to it and can only hope I get a veteran detective, as I do not particularly look forward to breaking some wet behind the ears kid that just got their gold badge. Even that will be preferable to being assigned a blue-blood with something to prove and got their daddy to arrange this assignment to get them from the old ‘work for daddy in the afternoons and put on the uniform to write up B-N-E reports at night’. God, I think I’ll shoot myself if I get a blue-blood with something to prove that just got their gold badge; that would be the most horrific new partner that I think anyone in their right minds could ever think to be paired off with for the rest of their careers. I am about to turn 32 and I absolutely do not want to be assigned to that mess for the next 28 or so years, if you catch my drift.

Okay, so I have a resentment for those that have trust-funds with hero-complexes to boot. It’s like why would they want to risk their lives everyday when they can just sit at their daddy’s right hand, learn the family business, and then one day take over and have their own kids to hand it down to. They already have it made, they most certainly don’t need to take a good, decent paycheck from some hard-working joe that’s trying to put food on the table, pay the bills to keep the roof over their families heads, and to provide some kind of decent clothing for their kids. By what right do they have to think they can just waltz right in and take a much needed and depended on paycheck away from us folks that require that well-earned money?