>>
>>God it was cold. She felt it deep in her bones. An involuntary shiver worked its way down her back and continued on until it settled somewhere near her toes. She stamped her boots for warmth even though she knew it would probably do no good. Her cheeks red and stiff, she pulled the hood of her parka tighter in a vain attempt to keep the wind at bay. She couldn’t remember a winter this cold in North Carolina. She couldn’t remember being this cold, ever.
>>
>>“Looks like she put up a fight.” Detective Annibal Pedersen stated dryly, appearing unmoved by the grisly scene in front of her, when she was anything but. She wrinkled her nose. The coppery smell drifted all around and seemed to permeate everything in its reach.
>>
>>Dillon stepped back as if to distance himself from the sight before him and glanced at Annie, reading the sadness in her eyes. “Not that it did much good.” Was all he said.
>>
>>She was young and pretty. At least she had been once. Long, golden blonde hair, now coated in blood, cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, almost blending into her camel coat and looking as though it flowed on to the earth around her. Her eyes once soft and warm, were now wide open in terror. A thin red line of blood trickled down her chin, her mouth round and wide open as if a scream was about to emerge. She couldn’t scream now. Did she scream then?
>>
>
>Nice. One question. Why "Annibal"? I stumbled over it, trying to figure out if it was meant to be a variant of Annabelle or something else.
>
>Tamar

It's cockney for Hannibal :-)