Chapter Seven: Chains of Deception

The precinct was colder than usual when Evelyn stepped inside. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as she walked toward her office, her boots echoing against the tiled floor. But the moment she pushed open the door, she froze.

A group of detectives stood inside, their expressions unreadable.Captain Harrisp leaned against her desk, arms crossed. His eyes held something she couldn’t quite place—guilt, maybe.

“Detective Cross,” he said, his tone clipped. “Hand over everything you have on Damian Voss.”

Evelyn’s fingers curled into fists. “Excuse me?”

“This is an order. All files, notes—anything related to your investigation into Voss. Effective immediately, you are being reassigned.”

A cold weight settled in her stomach. “Reassigned?”

Captain Harris didn’t flinch. He reached into his coat and pulled out a document, setting it on the desk.

“Harper Town,” he said. “You leave tonight.”

Evelyn barely heard the words. Her vision blurred as she read the transfer notice. Harper Town—a quiet coastal district with no real crime, no real significance. A dead end.

Her voice came out in a whisper. “Why? Why now?”

Captain Harris didn’t see her gaze. “If you do well for six months, you’ll be reinstated.”

Six months. That was a lifetime.

Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she turned and walked out.

That night, Evelyn packed her things, every movement feeling mechanical. She didn’t cry until she was alone in the car, the city lights fading behind her.

Harper Town was exactly what she had expected—small, slow, and painfully uneventful. Her new office was barely functional, staffed by detectives who had grown too comfortable in their mediocrity.

The moment she walked into the precinct’s briefing room, she took one look at them and exhaled sharply.Around the table sat a group of uninspired, half-hearted detectives—men and women who had grown too comfortable in their routine.

“Alright, what’s the case?” she asked.

“A robbery case,” someone said.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes and raised an eyebrow. Robberies weren’t usually tough for her.

"Who’s in charge?" she asked.

A chubby detective in an ill-fitting suit stood up. "That would be me," he said, chewing gum lazily.

Evelyn's patience was already wearing thin. "Alright, what have you gathered so far?"

"As of now… nothing."

Silence.

Evelyn exhaled slowly. This was going to be a long case.

The robbery had happened three nights ago at an elite auction house. The thieves had walked away with over $10 million in rare artifacts and jewelry.

No security footage. No forced entry. Too clean.

Evelyn reviewed the files and frowned. Something wasn’t right.

She flipped through photos, stopping at a grainy image from a nearby traffic cam.

A security van had been parked outside the auction house two days before the heist—and again on the night of the robbery.

"Did anyone check this van?" she asked.

The chubby detective shrugged. "Looked normal."

Evelyn slammed the file shut. Lazy work.

"Let’s find that van."

It took three hours of digging through parking records before they found the van abandoned in a warehouse district.

Evelyn and one of the detectives, James drove out, weapons ready.

Inside, they found stolen auction crates… and a laptop still running.

She scanned the screen—fake employee IDs, security blueprints. Inside job.

A noise.

Evelyn turned just in time to see a masked man sprinting out the back.

"James! Go!"

They tore after him through the alleyways. He was fast—but Evelyn was faster.

A leap, a hard tackle, and the thief crashed onto the pavement.

"Talk," Evelyn ordered, twisting his arm.

"Okay, okay! The boss—he's taking the rest of the loot tonight! Warehouse 12, West Dockyard District, Pier 4.

He was cuffed, his wrists locked in cold steel, and escorted out by two officers.

By midnight, Evelyn led a full squad to Warehouse 12, West Dockyard District, Pier 4.This time, she didn’t rely on lazy detectives—she brought her best.

Inside, the thieves were packing the stolen goods into a truck.

Evelyn didn’t wait.

"Go!"

The raid was swift. Gunfire rang out. One thief made a run for it—Evelyn put him down with a single shot to the leg.

Minutes later, the criminals were cuffed, the stolen artifacts recovered.

The precinct had let this case sit for days—and she had cracked it in less than 24 hours.

Back at the station, the chubby detective looked sheepish. "Didn’t think this case would be that big," he muttered.

Evelyn smirked. "That’s the problem. You don’t think at all."

She grabbed her coat and walked out.

There was always another case waiting.

And she was ready.

Evelyn Cross stood at the center of the station, arms crossed as she surveyed the pile of case files stacked in front of her. The precinct was drowning in unsolved crimes, most of which had been gathering dust for months.

She turned to the team of detectives—unmotivated, sluggish, and used to doing the bare minimum. That was about to change.

"No more breaks. No more excuses. You’re all working late from now on," she announced.

A wave of murmurs swept through the room, but no one dared to protest. They had seen how she worked, how relentless she was.

For the next five months, the precinct transformed. Cases were reopened, investigations pushed forward, and results finally came in. Evelyn had begun to respect her team. They were slow at first, but under her leadership, they had turned into something better. She had shaped them into real detectives.

But while the precinct worked tirelessly, Damian Voss remained untouchable. His underground empire thrived, hidden beneath layers of deception. No matter how many cases they solved, he remained a ghost.

One late night, after another exhausting shift, Evelyn stepped out of the station, letting the cool air hit her face. Her phone buzzed.

A message from her Captain Harris:

"Hope you’re preparing to return. We’ve heard about the good work you’ve done in town. Your transfer letter will be sent soon."

She read it twice, a rare smile tugging at her lips. She had done it. She had turned this mess of a precinct around, and now she was finally going back to where she belonged.

But the moment of pride was short-lived.

Her phone buzzed again.

A different message. Urgent.

"The Commissioner’s daughter has been kidnapped."

The world seemed to freeze for a second.

Minutes later, Evelyn sat in the dimly lit conference room, the weight of the case pressing down on her shoulders.

This wasn’t just another case.

This was about to be the toughest fight of her career.