#Chapter 17: The Coverup

"Boss?" One of Charles's staff is bobbing outside his open office door, hovering like he isn't sure he's supposed to knock or not. Charles refrains from rolling his eyes.

"Yes, Mickle, what is it?" Charles is tense. He had to pull a couple of big strings to get the police to jump on chasing Nicole's car, and he's nervous about the outcome. So much for the war on drugs; if Charles hadn't offered a substantial bribe, the Chief of Police couldn't have cared less.

"We have news," Mickle says, still hovering. Charles perks up at that.

"Well, for god's sake, get in here and close the door, then," he snaps, sitting upright behind his desk and reaching for the decanter of whisky on the bar cart behind him. He pours himself a healthy glug and drinks half of it in one go, not bothering to offer any to Mickle.

Mickle scuttles inside and shuts the door behind him.

"I just got a call from our officer inside," he says, sounding breathless. "It's over. It's done. Nicole is dead."

Charles chokes on h