Chapter 7

I stared at the screen, blood rushing in my ears and my heart skipping a beat. Quickly, I shoved the phone into my pocket and left my hand in there to hide the slight tremor going through me.

I glanced around, my eyes scanning the crowd of police officers and forensic techs. Somehow, in the midst of all this chaos, someone was watching me. Someone knew I was here.

"Laurent! You coming or something what?", Chief Marcus barked, already several places ahead of me. I could swear he was near me a second ago.

Outside the warehouse ,the air was cool against my skin. Marcus led me to his unmarked car, leaning against the hood with his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face.

"You want to tell me what you're doing at my crime scene when you're supposed to be on leave?", His voice was low and controlled as he stared down at me.

I inhaled a bit and straightened my shoulders, "Sir, with all due respect-"

"Save it", He said,holding a hand up. "I know you, Laurent. Two weeks away from the job and your hands are already itchy to get into Black Rose business. That's if you aren't already knee deep into it."

Such accusation. I would have taken offense in that if it weren't true but it was, so I swallowed whatever I wanted to say and opted for another. "These bodies are connected to the case I've been working on for years", my voice was steady despite the anger and annoyance bubbling inside me.

Chief Marcus studied me for long moment, his weathered face unreadable. "You're overly driven by them, by this case. I'm trying to look for a softer word for it but I'm unable to find any. Laurent you're obsessed. And obsession makes you sloppy." He let out a deep sigh, rubbing his forehead as if just talking to me and thinking about my recent actions made him age by 20 years.

I crossed my arms over my chest,finding the concrete floor below us interesting. "I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" His eyebrows shot up. "You were suspended for beating a suspect. And now you show up at a Black Rose crime scene? Do you have any idea how this looks?"

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to snap back. "With all due respect. It's my job—"

"It was your job. Right now, your job is to stay home and reflect on your actions." His voice softened slightly as he pushed off the hood of the car and straightened. "Look, Jude. You're a good cop. One of my best. But this... fixation you have? It's going to get you killed."

I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. Because deep down, I knew he was right. This wasn't just about justice anymore. It was personal. It always had been.

"Two weeks," he said firmly. "Stay away from this case. Stay away from the precinct. When you come back, we'll talk about reassignment."

"Reassignment?" I echoed, disbelief flooding through me. "You can't—"

"I can and I will." His tone left no room for argument as he shoved his hands into his pocket. "Go home, Jude."

He turned and walked back into the warehouse, leaving me standing alone in the parking lot. I clenched my fist and bit down on my lips, trying to contain my fury. I didn't doubt for a second he meant his word. I took deep breaths and tried to settle the brewing anger within me. I was going to be moved, I didn't know what to make of it. He didn't exactly speak like it was already decided and finalized, so that was good for now. I needed to spike up the speed of this a little. If truly, I had little time here, I had to do everything in my power to find out the truth.

The Chief mentioned I should go home. I didn't go home. I couldn't.

*****

The sun was setting as I made my way through downtown, casting long shadows between buildings. My feet knew where to go before my mind did. I needed answers, and there was only one person I knew who might have them without strings.

Ava's bar glowed with warm light as I pushed through the door. The place was just starting to fill with the evening crowd, a mix of office workers unwinding and night owls just beginning their day. Music played low beneath the hum of conversation, something bluesy that matched my mood.

Ava spotted me from behind the bar and raised an eyebrow. I slid onto a stool in front of her, watching as she finished mixing a drink with practiced grace. Her dark hair was pulled back tonight, accentuating her sharp cheekbones and the knowing glint in her eyes.

"Well, well," she said, sliding the cocktail to a waiting customer before turning her full attention to me. "Look want the cat dragged in. Rough day, Red?"

"You could say that", I ran a hand through my hair, momentarily forgetting the cap I'd been wearing earlier was gone. "I need to talk to you."

She studied me, then reached for a bottle of whiskey, the good stuff she kept under the counter. "On the house", she said, pouring two fingers into a glass and sliding it toward me.

I took a small sip, letting the burn ground me. "I need information , Ava."

"Don't you always?", She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "What kind this time?"

"The Black Rose."

Her smile vanished and she straightened her back a little , while looking swiftly around us, suddenly alert, "That's dangerous territory, darling"

I let out a sigh, stirring the liquid in my glass a bit by moving it. "I know", I began to say but paused to take a sip from my drink. "But you know people Ava. You hear things."

Ava laughed, a throaty sound that turned heads our way. "I'm a bartender, not a spy", she whispered, turning her back to me to mix some drinks.

"Come on, Ava. Don't pull that card on me. This bar is neutral ground. Everyone comes here. And I'm sure,even them"

She sighed and turned to look at me. "Why are you doing this to yourself? The Black Rose isn't some street gang you can take down with a badge and a gun. They're everywhere. In the police, the courts, city hall"

"Well, it looks like the number of police they got in their pocket exceed the others' numbers", I muttered, fighting the urge to not throw up the content in my stomach. The images of those bodies in the warehouse still flashed through my mind randomly and right now ,it was taking more than forever to fade away.

She studied me for a long moment, then shook her head, "My girl... it's either you're really brave or you're just fucking stupid."

"I have been called worst", The corner of my lips tilted up as I grabbed the drink in front of me and chogged it down.

Ava refilled my glass, then glanced at her watch, "Meet me in the back room in five minutes."

I nursed my drink while she finished serving a group at the end of the bar. The drink did nothing to calm the storm in my mind, but it gave me something to focus on besides the message on my phone and the smell of blood in that warehouse.

True to her word, Ava appeared at my elbow five minutes later, "Come on, then". I jumped off the stool I was seated on and followed her through a door marked "Staff Only" and into a small office.

Unlike the polished elegance of the bar, this space was small, serving as both an office and storage space. A business desk cluttered with invoices was at the right corner of the space, the walls were lined with security monitors showing different angles of the bar and boxes of liquor against the walls. Ava closed the door and leaned against it, her arms folded against her chest, "Alright, I need you talking immediately. What kind of trouble are you in?"

I raised one eyebrow at her, intertwining my fingers behind my back, "What makes you think I'm in trouble?"

She let out a short, humuorless laugh and pushed herself off the door. Ava moved toward me with deliberate steps, closing the distance between us. Her fingers brushed against my arm as she passed, the touch lingering on my skin. The security monitors casted a blue glow across her face, highlighting the intensity in her eyes. "The new boss," she said without preamble, "the one they call the Maestro. He's making waves."

I leaned forward, giving her my full attention. "How do you know that?"

Ava gave me a look. "People talk when they drink. Especially when they think no one's listening."

"What else? Does he have a name? A face?" The Maestro had been a ghost, a rumor, until I'd faced him in that alley. Even now, all I had was a partial image: dark eyes, a deadly smile, the cold press of a blade against my skin.

"Nobody knows his real name," Ava said, perching on the edge of her desk. "Or if they do, they're not sharing. But I do know where he might be tonight."

My heart skipped a beat. "Where?"

"There's a club downtown. The Crimson. Very exclusive, very private. Word is, the Black Rose uses it for meetings." She scribbled an address on a napkin and handed it to me. "They won't let just anyone in."

I pocketed the napkin. "I'll find a way."

Ava's laugh was tinged with concern. "I'm sure you will. But Jude..." She hesitated. "Be careful. These people... they're not like the criminals you're used to dealing with. They're something else entirely."

I stood, already planning my next move. "I'll be fine."

"Will you? Because from where I'm standing, you're walking straight into the lion's den with nothing but your wits."

I flashed her a smile I didn't feel but flirty enough to do the trick. "Then it's a good thing I'm witty, isn't it?"

She shook her head, not buying my bravado for a second. "What exactly are you looking for, anyway? Evidence? A confession?"

I paused, the question hitting closer to home than I wanted to admit. What was I looking for? Justice for my parents? Answers about the whispered words I'd heard as a child? Or something darker, more primal?

"Information," I said finally, heading towards the door. "I need to understand how deep this goes."

Ava didn't look convinced, but she nodded. "And one more thing", she said before I stepped out of the room. Ava disappeared into a closet and returned with a garment bag. "You can't go in there looking like... that." She gestured to my casual clothes.

I unzipped the bag to find a sleek black dress, simple but elegant. "Ava—"

"Don't argue. You stand out enough with that hair. At least look the part." She crossed her arms. "And for goodness sake, be careful. These people don't play games."

*****

An hour later, I was sliding through the back entrance of The Crimson. I had on the dress Ava gave to me and had my hair down. It was a beautiful dress that hugged my curves in a way that made me feel both self conscious and oddly powerful. The black silk clung to my hips and dipped low between my breasts, revealing more skin than I'd shown in years. The slit up the side reached mid thigh, giving glimpses of leg with every step. It was the kind of dress meant to distract, to make men stupid.

Inside, the club pulsed with low, hypnotic music. Not the pounding beat I'd expected, but something more seductive, more controlled. Red velvet covered the walls, with gold fixtures catching what little light there was. Smoke hung in the air, sweet and thick, making everything seem dreamlike.

In one corner, three women danced on raised poles, their bodies gleaming with oil under the spotlight. They twisted and turned with practiced grace, drawing eyes but not the main attraction. Just another distraction in a place built on secrets.

The crowd was beautiful and dangerous, like polished knives. Women in dresses that cost more than my monthly rent, men in suits tailored to hide shoulder holsters. I made my way to the bar, careful to keep my gaze casual, uninterested.

I ordered a drink and turned to survey the room. A dancer slid down her pole upside down, her long hair nearly touching the floor as men tossed bills onto the small stage. The VIP section was easy to spot, elevated above the main floor, guarded by men with blank expressions and bulges under their jackets. I couldn't just walk up there. I needed to watch, wait.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for exactly. Him, maybe. The minutes stretched into an hour. I sipped my second drink, watching the dancers change shifts and the crowd grow thicker. Maybe Ava's sources weren't right afterall. I sighed deeply, feeling a wave of defeat go through me as I took another sip from my drink.

Another moment passed and I had given up. I wasn't finding anything here anytime soon, best I get my ass out and to somewhere cozy and comfy. Preferably my apartment.

I was about to move, try another approach, when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A presence behind me. Close. Too close.

"You've been looking for me, detective."