Case: 1: A Dystopian Mystery (Annalise Storm Chronicles Book 2)

by May Freighter

  He looked up from the tablet and observed her with a frown. “There have been times when we scraped by in the past, but our recent situation has been fine. Is there any reason why you needed to know this?”

  She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. “It’s a routine question.”

  “Oh, I see.” Fred handed her the tablet with a list of twelve places, which she copied onto her comms. “Is there anything else you need, Detective?”

  She deactivated the recording. The temptation to tell him what was going on was killing her. She managed to back away and shake her head. “Nothing, sir. If you see your wife, please contact us. We have some questions regarding the case at the institute.”

  He walked her out, and Annalise climbed into her car. To the department’s AI, she said, “AID, could you check the video feeds from the following locations and tell me if Judy Wilson has used her Citizen ID to enter any of them?”

  “Please list the locations in question, Detective,” the AI replied.

  Annalise read out the places, one by one, leaving the computer to deal with the search while she returned to the DPD. It was close to 7 p.m. by the time she parked in the car park. She got out of the car, and her stomach growled. She had forgotten about lunch, and breakfast for that matter.

  “Looks like this could be our chance to have that talk,” Jamen said, striding towards her. “What do you say?”

  “I don’t think this is such a good time. We have a suspect on the run and—”

  “Don’t worry. If your suspect can be found, Devlin will seek them out like a bloodhound. He sure knows how to locate people who don’t want to be found.”

  She studied him for a long moment, taking in his rugged features and dark-brown hair that was trimmed to his scalp. His green eyes held years of experience, and she knew he wouldn’t be asking her out for a meal without a good reason. Whatever he wanted to tell her, she was getting curious. “Alright, where are we headed?”

  “The place isn’t too far from here.” He motioned for her to come along.

  One thing that never changed was that she struggled to keep up with his long legs. Jamen and Mavel had that in common, but, at least, Mavel used to slow down for her. Walking next to this man was like going to the gym for cardio. It became too stuffy in her coat, so she undid the buttons and let the cool air take some of the heat out of her.

  “How’s your case going?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence once they crossed the road.

  “It’s going okay, I guess. It’s a murder case, though. Our vic was killed by the security guard on purpose.”

  “You have to hand it over to Homicide, or they will get pissed off that you’ve overstepped your jurisdiction.”

  She pouted. “I don’t get it. Why is our department even a thing? All we have to do is go to a place and identify whether someone modded went crazy or not. If proven that it was murder, the case is taken away, if it’s proven they did, in fact, get possessed, we can close the case and say how sorry we are to the families for their loss. What’s the actual point?”

  Jamen patted her on the shoulder and chuckled. “The point is that we may be the only people in the DPD who give a damn about the modded. At first, I thought you were like your father, stubborn and ignorant. I was wrong. I saw how well you and Mavel got along. You never once seemed prejudiced or hateful towards Calla or Des, either.”

  “They’re all weird but good people.”

  “That’s the reason our department exists. Chief Sunderland fights tooth and nail to have enough annual funding to keep HPD open. And we have proven our worth over the years. We have solved cases others deemed to be a simple possession. Though the other departments immediately steal them back, claiming we were overstepping our bounds.”

  “Then we’re what, going to live in the shadows of others?” she demanded, halting. “That’s not fair!”

  Jamen inclined his head in the direction of the purebloods and their servants who walked by. “We may not get the credit, but we stop a lot of terrible things from happening in this city, Storm. It’s our job to worry about the citizens and not another trophy or medal that will gather dust on a shelf at home.”

  “You’re right.” She hung her head, and they resumed their stroll. “When I try to solve a case, it’s because I want to bring peace to the families. I can’t stand seeing their sorrow and pain.”

  He slapped her on the back. “That’s the spirit!”

  After another minute, he came to a stop at a relatively small bar. Once they scanned their Citizen IDs at the entrance, Annalise took in the rustic interior and old style rock music hitting her eardrums. The place fit about ten tables and was mostly empty apart from a couple of guys sitting by the window. How it stayed open without any customers at rush hour, she had no clue.

  A busty brunette who was wiping a pint glass at the bar waved to Jamen. Her pearlescent skin and twinkling brown eyes were captivating. And, like almost everyone else in the city, she was taller than Annalise by three or four inches.

  “The usual, J?” the woman asked with a curved smile.

  Jamen grinned at her. “Yes, Tara. Get something non-alcoholic for my friend here and a dinner special.”

  Tara poured him a pint of beer and eyed Annalise from head to toe before producing a bottle of cola for her.

  Annalise rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child. Get me a beer, please.”

  The woman winked. “Sure thing, hon. Your food will be ready in ten.”

  Laughing, Jamen nudged her to follow him to the back of the bar. He slipped onto a high stool, and Annalise did the same. Under the low-wattage lamp that made his skin seem almost orange, he leant in, resting his elbows on the table. As he did so, his humour dispelled, and he took a sip of his beer.

  “You look like you’re about to tell me unicorns aren’t real,” she mumbled, attempting to lighten the mood.

  Jamen’s lips twitched upwards in one corner, but he stayed solemn. “I wish that was all I was going to tell you, Storm. I—” He met her gaze and sighed. “I know we didn’t start off on the right foot when you first came in. I had to let you figure out what kind of detective you wanted to be and how you wanted to operate.”

  “You did an exemplary job there. I nearly died three times in a month. I guess my career path is suicidal,” she joked.

  He swallowed nervously and gulped down some more of his drink. “I wasn’t there to babysit you. I did my job and evaluated you. You belong in HPD. You’ve got guts, perseverance, and you don’t judge the modded blindly like others do.”

  She folded her arms on the table. “I don’t see why you asked me to come here. Wasn’t this about Falcon?”

  His expression turned sour. “I thought it would be best for you to have something to eat before I get into the details of why I hate them.”

  “Don’t leave me hanging…”

  Jamen briefly scanned the interior and the patrons then returned his attention to her. “When I first arrived at HPD, I closed cases faster than anyone in the whole building. Other chiefs were trying to scout me to transfer to their departments, but I kept declining their offers.”

  “Sounds like you were quite a celebrity. Should I give you a bow?” That earned her a smile.

  “Yes, I guess I was. Three years later, a man from Falcon came and told me I had a half-sister. They said if I wanted to meet her, I had to bend some rules and slap a ‘closed case’ label on the possession I was working on.”

  Annalise shifted closer, eager to hear more. “And did you?”

  “No. I thought the man was lying. I was the only child, and my parents seemed happy together. Neither of them ever mentioned having previous marriages. So, I checked the hospital and marriage records for both of them. They came back with nothing. I declined Falcon’s offer right after.”

  “Somehow, I’m sensing that’s not the end of your tête–à–tête with those assholes.”

  Tara sashayed to their table, bringing Annalise a burger with a side of
fries and salad. She handed the plate and cutlery to Annalise, bending low to flash her cleavage their way, and left without another word.

  Annalise caught Jamen checking the woman’s ass out on her walk back to the bar. “You seem to like her.”

  He blinked and cleared his throat. “I do…did. It’s complicated.”

  “You don’t seem like Rios who sleeps with everything that’s female. Maybe you should give it a shot. Tara sure as hell seems to like you.”

  “There is more to Rios than meaningless sex. He is a good friend when you need him to be.”

  She bit into her burger, tasting the synthesised meat seasoned with herbs. A moan escaped her. It had been a long time since she had such good fast food. “This is amazing.”

  He smiled again. “Tara and her sister, Sonya, started this place five years ago. Although there are not many clients, those who do come in become addicted to good food. The others are idiots for avoiding the place because there is not enough neon lighting on the windows.”

  “I think I’m going to become their loyal customer. Thanks for bringing me here.” She put down the burger and popped a fry into her mouth. “Do you want to tell me what happened after you said no to Falcon?”

  His face paled a little. “They sent me a photo of my mother when she was younger and holding a baby. I knew the baby wasn’t me as it had red eyes.”

  She almost choked on her food. “A flare?”

  “I took a day off to see my parents. It was the most awkward evening I had spent with them in my entire life. My mother confessed to having a child two years prior to meeting my father and having me. It ruined their marriage. She claimed she was at a club and must have had too much to drink. By the time she realised she was pregnant, it was too late to have an abortion. Her best friend’s father worked for Falcon.” Jamen clenched his jaw and ground his teeth. “They helped her hide any trace of the pregnancy, the baby, and the guy who impregnated her.”

  “What happened to the baby?”

  “You’ve met her,” he responded, finishing his beer.

  Annalise scrunched her brows. She hadn’t met many flares in her life and the one who fit the profile was his partner. “Calla is your half-sister?”

  “Keep your voice down,” he hissed and glanced around the room again. “Yes. She was kept in their Facility in Bronze for twenty-seven years. They did…experiments on her and others like her to see if they could program them to become weapons.”

  Her mouth fell open and her stomach sank. “They did that to kids?”

  “There are worse things Falcon did and continues to do to others. It’s why you can’t trust Devlin. He may still be working for them. It is too convenient how he showed up at HPD with his stellar record. He could have picked any department, any position. He could have started his own department for God’s sake!”

  Annalise felt sick. “They shot Devlin when he tried to help Mavel and I escape from their facility. And our parents had arranged our marriage when we were kids. I can see why he chose to come to HPD instead of any other department.”

  Jamen captured her trembling hand as she reached for her drink. “He could be a double agent, or he could be who he says he is. I want you to know that I had to bend and break a lot of rules as well as destroy my moral code to get Calla out. Once they have their hooks in you, you won’t like it where they’ll take you.” He stood and added, “I’ll pay for the meal. Finish your food and think about what I said.”

  When he was gone, regardless of how great the food looked or smelled, she had lost her appetite. She buried her face in her palms. What am I supposed to do now?

  14

  Sweet Desire

  Annalise returned to the HPD’s office close to 9 p.m. She decided to put the matters regarding Devlin and his possible association with Falcon to the back of her mind. What was a partnership without a little bit of blind trust? In addition to that, he hadn’t done a single thing to make her doubt his loyalties. He hadn’t once asked her about Mavel’s whereabouts, not that she knew them, or about the Landon’s case. It was safe to say he wasn’t interested in any of that and did, in fact, wish to marry her.

  She strode to the coffee area and made her drink. As she did so, Chief came out of his office and motioned for her to follow him inside. Picking up her cup, she dragged her feet behind his round frame.

  Chief grabbed his black coat off the hanger and slipped it on. “I am leaving for the night. Devlin contacted me this morning about your visit to the Montgomery Institute. He found traces of an unidentified substance in the lab along with Red Dust. Once Mr Brent is brought in for questioning tomorrow, Homicide and Narcotics will have a field day.”

  Her shoulders tensed. It was exactly like the scenario Jamen had painted earlier. “Sir, I can’t let the case go! I want to be the one to lock Brent up, and we still haven’t located the Science teacher.”

  “Leave the search to the other department. I will assign something else to you and Devlin when a new case comes in. Is that understood?”

  She bit her tongue and nodded. “So until tomorrow, the case is mine?”

  He raised a brow. “You should go home and get some rest. It’s not your problem anymore.”

  “But I am in charge of the case until I’m reassigned, right?”

  “Yes, Storm.” Chief patted her on the shoulder and squeezed past her. “You and Devlin have more in common than you think. You will find him at the AI database on the F-1 level. There is much you two should discuss.” He ambled out of the office.

  Annalise gathered enough courage to see Devlin once she finished her coffee and convinced herself that their case was the sole reason she was going to the F-1 level of the DPD. What if he found some new information critical to their case? She got into the lift and slipped her hands into her pockets. Whatever excuses she came up with, she knew she wanted to check on how he was doing. Sure, she was mad at him for not telling her about his family’s succession game, but it wasn’t like she would be able to bring that up in a conversation with him if their roles were reversed. It wasn’t uncommon for wealthy purebloods to come up with strange ways to divide the inheritance.

  She got off the lift and headed to the side room of the garage where the AI records were kept. At the glass door, she knocked, making him turn around. Devlin had accessed a lot of records that were projected by AID onto the back wall. The AI’s holo-projection, dressed as a librarian, stood by his side and smiled when Annalise came in.

  “Welcome, Detective Storm,” the AI began. “How may I help you?”

  “AID, could you give us some privacy?” Annalise asked.

  The AI inclined her head and disappeared.

  Devlin folded his arms over his chest, scrutinising her from a distance but not voicing his thoughts.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked, becoming conscious of the uncomfortable air between them.

  “Is there anything I can say?”

  “I don’t want our personal issues to affect our job, Devlin. Whatever the deal is with your family and mine, I want nothing to do with it. I have said this on more than one occasion.”

  “I know.”

  “Then, are we okay? Can we get back to being civil around each other?”

  He smirked. “I don’t want to force you to marry me, Annalise. What would be the fun in that?” His expression softened as he got closer to her and brushed her hair behind her ear. “I would rather have you in love than as a possession.”

  Her heart jolted at his words. With much effort, she managed to maintain her act of indifference. “How are you feeling? Your colour hasn’t improved.”

  “I’m fine.” He indicated to the back wall. “I’ve been trying to track down Judy Wilson. Since I returned, I have been going over the footage from the street cameras around Montgomery Institute. According to AID, her car never left the premises on the night of our victim’s murder, and she didn’t take public transport.”

  “How can that be?” she asked, frowning
. “Mrs Wilson and her car couldn’t have disappeared without a trace.”

  “My thoughts exactly. It is why I have also been looking at the school’s blueprints and possible places of where she could have hidden her car or tunnels she could have used to get out unnoticed.”

  “And?” She walked around him to the projections on the wall. Her eyes assessed the blueprints of the building. “I wasn’t the exploring type, so I never ventured beyond my wing when I attended that institute.”

  Devlin moved to stand by her side, their arms brushing. “I checked the restoration records and the updated blueprints. The only section that has changed was where the less privileged students study. As you can see”—he brought up two blueprints side by side and, on the far side of the right wing, there was a classroom worth of space added to the newly updated file—“this is the only difference. I was going to check it out tonight before the case is out of our hands. Do you want to come or shall I drop you off at home?”

  She grinned at him. “I’m going.”

  Devlin smiled back, but his smile turned into a grimace. He cradled his wounded side, wincing. “I think the painkillers are wearing off.”

  “Idiot. You should go home or see a doctor. I can look into this by myself.”

  He caught her wrist. “I’m not letting you go wandering around that place alone at night.”

  “Technically, I won’t be alone. I’ll have an AI on my side.”

  He shook his head. “She can’t help you in a physical fight.”

  “I have been trained at the Academy, Devlin. I’m not as weak as you might think.”

  “Alright. I’ll stay here if your ass doesn’t touch the ground in the next ten seconds.” He grabbed her by the shoulder and swept her legs from under her with a kick to the back of her knees.

  She cried out in surprise and hit the ground. Her eyes narrowed on him as she massaged her behind. “That was uncalled for. I didn’t have time to prepare.”