Chapter five

After two long weeks of recovery and two long weeks of Xander's boring company, I got back to my usual routine. Waking up, having a long cold shower, wearing something dark that matches my personality and showing up at LAPD if I didn't have any interesting engagement. Boring? You'll get used to it.

"Good to have you back, sunshine." Marlon acknowledged as he appeared through the door to his office, a file in hand.

I was already seated across from his chair, holding a cup of coffee in hand that I had bought before I made it there. His office was huge and very neat. By the window was a dark brown  leather settee enough to fit at least three people. The window had a nice view of the department's training arena where some cops were busy kicking their butts off for some subsequent assignments.

I remembered one time I was on the beautiful grass field, using up my spare time. I had just being released from jail, claiming I could help the cops with a case. Of course, they didn't believe me, so I just had to prove them wrong. It went really well.

Beside the door was a Magnolia flower plant balanced in a shiny white clay pot. It brought out a serene atmosphere in the room. The floor was carpeted with a dark brown wool carpet that contrasted really well with the baby blue walls. This guy had good taste.

"Don't call me that." I said, taking a sip from the cup.

"Of course." He replied smiling, sitting down, resting his arms on  the pinewood desk. He leaned forward, looking intently at me.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

"No! I was just wondering why you didn't bring me coffee."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. 

"Yeah! Keep wondering." I said coldly, taking another sip.

That's something I don't do. Caring? No one as ever showed me proper care so no one should expect me to reciprocate. 

"Okay! Back to work then." He said, sliding a file towards me.

"We never managed to blag any information from the deaf guy since you bailed, but-before you lash out, Becca-we found a new lead."

"Why don't you just bribe the protagonist in your silly story and get away with everything, as usual?" I asked, setting down my now empty cup of coffee on the desk.

"Because, first, we are really in big trouble as LAPD as it is and we are trying to set a good example. Bribing is not. Actually, that's our biggest problem right now."

"What did Mark do?" I asked.

Marlon did not respond. He just looked uneasy and his facial expressions dimmed, making him seem ashen.

"I'm not here to tell you stories of what happened. I'm here to assign a job." He retorted, clearly  distasteful.

"May I remind you, I don't work for you. I only came here with my own accords and I can leave whenever I want. You never hired me Marlon. I'm actually doing you a favour." I said, nonchalantly, laying back on the seat, crossing my arms. 

I too can play his game. Being part of the case needed me to know the background of the story. Marlon was aware that I could choose to leave anytime soon but he was desperate. I just had to choose my words and he would spill out the contents without so much of a force.

Marlon sighed, "Fine!" He said, leaning back on his chair as well.

"We had a case that was closed a few years back. The Mafia gang had very disturbing images of Mark and I at a club-with girls-during our working hours. They said they won't expose us if we don't push on with their case. Mark was desperate. He needed his job, so, he agreed. Just recently, the Mafioso struck again. No sooner were they brought in than the pictures started circulating like wild fire. Mark was forced to bribe so that the pictures would be deleted. Our higher authority found out we bribed but they don't know why. Our policy is against bribing, so we can lose our jobs anytime. Well, Mark's tactfulness convinced them enough to keep our jobs and work on this case, still involving the gang, just to prove ourselves." He explained, shifting on his chair uncomfortably. 

"What about the pictures?"

"Our best hackers are working on that, without the boss' knowledge of course."

I felt like cracking up but I decided against it, keeping my composure. 

"So, who's the other lead?" I asked, wanting in on the case.

I took the file Marlon had slid across the desk towards me and opened. A single contact was on the display. I furrowed my eyebrows. 

"We don't know his name or his face, just his contact." Marlon said, intertwining his fingers and swinging the back rest of his chair.

"All we know is that he's a doctor. They guy is also believed to be the Mafia's ring leader which I want you to prove if it's true or not."

"What makes you think he's the ring leader?" I asked.

Suddenly, the door flew open and Mark walked in, staring at his phone throughout. He didn't even spare a glance. He just walked straight to the couch by the window, seemingly unaware of his surrounding.

"Sometimes I wonder why and how he's the head of LAPD and not you." I told Marlon.

He smiled.

"Was that a way of you complimenting me? He asked. 

"Don't get ahead of yourself, buddy."

"I'll still take it as a compliment. So, uh...where were we again?"

"Why do you think the guy is the ring leader?"

"Word on the street has it. Also, for starters, there's no information about him in our database. No picture of him, his background, ID number, none! We just go by what we heard. That he's a doctor and a privy, receiving all the information about the Mafia. He must know something. Find him and bring him for questioning."

"No!" I said, secretly typing the contact into my phone.

"No?" Marlon questioned. 

I slid the file back towards him.

"I'll do this on my terms."


"This is just a prima facie. We don't know anything about this guy just rumours from the street and I can't risk it. He might be an immigrant who just settled."

"That explains the lack of his information on our database but not the fact that he's a privy of the huge, famous gang in California."

"I'll bring the information you need, just not in your terms." I said as I got to my feet.

I turned to walk away but a tug on my wrist suggested otherwise. 

"Becca, don't ruin our chance..."

"Let the girl do what she does. She's good at it and you know that." Mark intervened, his attention still on his phone.

I snatched back my wrist.

"I'll handle it." I said then walked out of the office.

Who do you think the contact belongs to? 

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