Chapter 4
Hanne POV
"Hanne?" Angela called as she
stepped out of Sergeant Reynolds' office. The sun was setting, and I had an
entire night ahead of me to write my report. It was lengthy, but it was also
one of the most intriguing reports I’d ever worked on. I knew Amund Isak’s name
would dominate it; she was going down—one way or another.
Damn it.
I hadn't witnessed the crime directly, but
the gas station's CCTV could confirm her presence.
She was going down, deep down. I didn’t care
what it took.
"What?" I snapped.
"The sergeant wants to speak with
you."
More like I needed to talk to the sergeant. I
had to understand what was happening. Angela was on the verge of losing her
job, and I wanted to wipe that smug look off her face, the one that said she
had escaped the reach of justice.
"I suggest you get that look off your
face," I growled at her. There was no way the sergeant was complicit in
the whole 'bad guys get away with everything' scheme. He wouldn’t turn a blind
eye to a high-level criminal like the Isak family. I could understand letting a
few minor offenders slide, but this was different.
I couldn't wait to dive into the database.
"I suggest you prepare for the bust of
your life. When you call in the detectives, you're going to realize you didn’t
accomplish anything," she replied, adjusting the collar of her blue shirt.
I glared at her badge, feeling an urge to rip it off.
I refused to believe that everyone in the
department was on a criminal payroll. Why? I understood that being a police
officer didn’t pay much, but being able to lock up a few bad guys was rewarding
enough. That was worth the salary for me, even if I had rent to pay and bills
to cover.
"I know I did something good. After
finishing that damn report, I’m going to sleep well tonight, and your name will
be in it, marked as the dirty cop."
She stepped closer, a titanic over me.
"You think you can bring me down, bitch?"
"I know I can. And who are you calling a
bitch?"
Just then, the sergeant's door swung open.
"Angela, go to your desk. Hanne, my office—now," he ordered in his
deep voice.
"Yes, sir," Angela replied, her
nostrils flaring in irritation. "I smell a bitch," she muttered as
she walked away.
I entered the office and closed the door
behind me.
"Have a seat," the sergeant said.
I complied, taking a seat. "Yes,
sir."
"What you did today was reckless."
My eyebrows shot up. He had to be kidding.
"How?"
"I need you to understand how things
operate in this department..."
"Wait a minute. I didn't do anything
wrong. Did Corporal Storm mention what she did? She took money from someone
associated with the criminal world."
He sighed. "I need you to grasp our
reality. We're on both the government and the Isak family’s payroll."
I shook my head in disbelief. "That’s
impossible."
"I need you to keep your eyes shut on
these streets."
"Blind? Do you hear yourself, sir?
You're essentially telling me to turn a blind eye to these criminals and accept
a share of their blood money?"
"I'm not telling you to do anything.
It’s your choice. But what you need to understand is that you must stay out of
the Isaks' way."
"Are you part of this too?" I
scoffed, struggling to believe what I was hearing.
"We're just a small department," he
replied with a hint of resignation.
"Lies. What lies are you telling, sir?
We’re a large department, with over eight thousand officers and staff. We’re
more than capable. Now, whatever arrangement you have with the Isak family
needs to end—"
"You don’t simply dismantle a family
like that; a family that's existed long before this department even came into
being. They own California; we just stay out of their way."
"No, you’re enabling them to take over
this city and state."
"Stay out of their path. You either join
their payroll, keep your eyes closed, or risk your life."
I scoffed. "Do you have any more
nonsense to share, sir?"
"I want to review the report you’re
writing before it goes in for investigation."
"Why? She took a man's life!"
"The life of a criminal. It’s an eye for
an eye."
"Wow." I nodded sarcastically.
"Did Amund tell you to say that?"
"Glad to see you're becoming familiar
with her name. Write the report and give it to me for review. Do you
understand?"
This piece of work was still my superior.
"Yes, sir."
"Now, go back to your office."
"But we still have more patrol
duties—"
"I’ll send Corporal Benjamin and his
partner out."
My face contorted in disgust. This wasn't how
my first day of patrolling was supposed to go. We’d found a body, and it had
led to nothing but frustration.
As I stepped out of the office, my body
collided with someone who was entering. I turned to see a woman who paused when
she noticed I hadn’t released the door.
She was dressed in a short black dress and a
large jacket that hung loosely over her frame.
"Do we have a problem?" she asked.
I slowly shook my head, staring at the woman
who bore a striking resemblance to a hooker, with her long black hair and an
excessively short dress.
"Hanne, close the door," the
sergeant ordered.
Fantastic. Now it seemed the sergeant was
entertaining a hooker. What else could possibly go wrong today?
************
Surprisingly, the Isak family had a thick
file of documents detailing their extensive history, too much for me to review
thoroughly, but enough to reveal considerable depth.
Generations upon generations had merged into
the underworld business. They were involved in drugs, weapons, illegal
gambling, and all forms of trafficking. It was a sprawling empire, and they had
a hand in everything.
They were not to be trifled with. When you
see them approaching, you lock your windows and doors or, better yet, gauge
your own eyes out.
Everything was documented until I reached
Amund. There was nothing on her. She appeared impeccably clean, as if she had
perfected the art of staying off the police radar.
Well, she was definitely on mine.
There was no record of her in the database,
and I thought a simple Google search might yield results. Instead, everyone
painted her as a saint.
Amund Isak: A Helping Hand for Local
Hospital
Local Hero: Amund Isak Volunteers at
Bjorn General Hospital
Amund Isak: Giving Back to the
Community
From the Heart: Amund Isak Supports
Local Charities
"Bullshit," I muttered at my office
computer. It was clear that these people were happily accepting her dirty money
while welcoming her into their midst.
I scrutinized her face, unable to tear my
gaze away. I zoomed in on her image, feeling a pang of guilt for veering off
track from my original task, writing that damn report.
Instead, I found myself staring at her. I bit
my lip. "I mean..." My lips were tinged with the bitter aftertaste of
the coffee I had been downing. "She’s attractive, for sure."
A-mun-d.
It didn’t take much effort to pronounce her
name, and she didn’t look bad at all. My mouse hovered over her sculpted
jawline. Her eyes were striking—so captivating that I could lose myself gazing
into them for hours. She looked genuinely stunning.
"You're still a piece of work," I
thought.
A hero, though? That’s a strong label for
someone like her. Perhaps they should consider labeling her as a "local
villain." That would certainly tarnish her reputation.
I needed solid evidence to bring her down.
The question was: how? I was merely a patrol
officer. Should I enlist the help of a detective? Good luck with that. From
what I could see, my eyes returning to the captivating woman, she had everyone
in her pocket—or at least on her good side. And I mean everyone.
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