Chapter 6
Hanne POV
I entered the briefing room, where chairs
were arranged neatly around the whiteboard, and a pedestal stood before it for
the sergeant. I slid into the seat next to Constable Rubbed, who, like me, had
graduated at the top of our training school, recognized as one of the best
shots in the battalion.
"Hey," I nudged him. He turned to
me, his eyes nearly obscured by the brim of his cap. I rolled my eyes and
flicked his cap up slightly. "I need to talk to you after the
briefing."
He nodded in acknowledgment.
I redirected my attention to Sergeant
Reynolds, feeling a pang of disappointment for him, especially after uncovering
all the dirt on the Isak family last night. The information was stored in the
database, but there hadn't been any updates in the past ten years. Just because
it was buried didn’t mean it wasn’t there—hidden under someone’s carpet.
I tuned in as the sergeant began speaking
while a few more officers trickled into the room. "Today, I want at least
four patrol cars stationed around Cypress Park and Lincoln Avenue."
I scoffed quietly under my breath. I knew
those areas well; I had patrolled through them just yesterday. They were
predominantly Black and Mexican neighborhoods, struggling with poverty, drugs,
and petty violence. While their issues paled in comparison to what the Isak
family was involved in, bad guys were still bad guys.
I began to piece together why the police
department was focusing on these areas, the residents were poor, unable to pay
their way out of the matrix.
I wasn't naïve.
"Also, keep an eye out for this suspect.
He robbed the Maxwell convenience store, and witnesses have spotted him in the
vicinity."
"The eight patrol officers will be
assigned according to your partner assignments."
"Constable Richardson and Corporal
Nadine. Constable Alfhid and Corporal Angela..."
I stopped listening after that. My gaze
drifted to her; she was staring back at me, a smirk dancing beneath the brim of
her cap.
"All the other officers will be
stationed here on call and handling reports," Sergeant Reynolds said, his
gaze locking onto me. "Constable Alfhid, have you finished your
report?"
"Yes, sir."
"Bring it to my desk right after this
meeting."
I nodded curtly.
Once the briefing concluded, Constable Rubbed
and I met up and walked over to my desk, located in a crowded area with small
offices separated by cubicles. "What's up?"
"You were on patrol all week,
right?"
His strong arms crossed over his chest.
"Yep, pretty much."
I leaned in closer to him, resting my hand
against his crossed arms. "Who was your partner?"
"Corporal Bishop. Why do you ask?"
"Did you notice anything unusual during
your shifts? Where did you patrol?"
"We mostly covered the Lincoln area,
driving around a couple of community centers. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Why?" His confusion was evident.
"I don’t know. Just trying to pry into
places I probably shouldn’t."
He chuckled, a smile spreading across his
face as he chewed his gum. He looked a bit handsome like that. "You
probably shouldn’t.”
I pulled my hand away, staring at him.
His smile faded, revealing his chiseled
features as he removed his cap. "You said you were sticking your nose
where it doesn’t belong, so I thought I’d make a joke."
This was no laughing matter.
"Yeah."
"I didn’t see anything."
"I guess I drew the short straw on this
job."
"Cool, what did you see?"
"Two dead bodies yesterday."
"Cool. So you’re getting the exciting
part of the job, dealing with dead bodies and hunting bad guys; while I just
sit in a hot car watching people pass by. Nothing ever happens around
here."
I wished I could believe that. "Keep
your eyes open," I suggested cautiously. I didn't want to reveal the
corruption I suspected; after all, rookie cops might not understand the
implications. If I hadn't been on patrol and so determined to investigate the
tip about the body, I wouldn't have unearthed as much as I had.
*********
I slammed my report down in front of the
sergeant. He nodded while adding it to a stack of other reports.
"You know, if you're sending us to
patrol these streets filled with poor folks getting exploited by the Isak
family, you could just take them down. I looked in the database, you have
enough dirt to do it."
"You accessed the database?"
"I work here, so I figure I have a right
to it," I shot back.
He glared at me. "That part of the
database is strictly classified and won’t be used in any case. If anything like
that happens, it would be nothing but mayhem for us."
"Because you and this department have
spent decades lining your pockets off them. If they go down, you go down
too." The realization struck me like ripe mangoes falling from a tree.
"You’re targeting the wrong areas. But then again, I understand, you know
they don't have any money."
"Who do you think supplies them with
drugs and weapons?"
"Is that even a hard question? The Isak
family."
He shook his head, his expression stern.
"They have their territories, which do not include Lincoln and Cypress
Avenue. The cartels are the ones who fund these areas."
"So, the cartels either don't pay you
enough or not at all," I stated.
He scoffed. "I’m sure you’ve done your
research. The Isak family cleans up their crimes, while the cartels leave a
mess behind."
"Based on the headless body I saw
yesterday, I doubt that."
He sighed and opened his desk drawer, pulling
out a file. He pointed to a photograph above the image of the headless man.
"This is Garcio, a low-level foot soldier for the cartel. He killed one of
the Isak family members. It's all a tangled web between them, one you should
avoid. The Isaks pay us to stay out of their business. Whether you take the
money or not, you stay out of it."
"No," I said, turning to leave.
"You'll regret this."
"Believe me, I already regret a lot of
things. Being stationed here with a bunch of cowards is one of them."
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