Selena

Being the only woman, surrounded by men... ridiculous, but Sergio's home department experiment was successful, despite the lack of AC.

After negotiating with the people above, his attempt to get us all in a temporary office space... unsuccessful. No other departments wanted us around. Our investigation unit had a reputation to maintain, which became harder by the day.

This time, I wore dungarees with shorts above the knee, and a white undervest. At least now I was told that I look like a schoolgirl compared to what I was being told I looked like before.

We worked into the night, most nights, until our stomachs groaned. Excitement was contagious in here, but so was fear. The thorn of the horrible press was a force that tied us all closer together as a team.

This night, Sergio bought pizza for everyone who was still at his house, and just to challenge Julian, I created a fruit punch that was better than his. It was the weekend, and here we were, grown adults huddled around the coffee table in the living room playing games. Except for me:

Cleodora wasn't a saint. She conspired in full awareness with crime lords, committing robberies not short of national importance. Yes, she was a puppet being pulled by the strings of Acosta, but she made a conscious decision to play the game. And her death was a consequence of that.

We should all learn from her actions, not to associate, or let our young children associate with dangerous people, such as Acosta, and the Vixen.

As we actively seek to locate this cunning murderer, rest assured that we, the team of Bluebridge police department are on your side. There will be justice for the life of Miss Martinez.

'Hey', Sergio called me. He took a seat on the floor, where most other detectives were huddled around the coffee table. I sat directly above him on the couch, with one leg folded, and one down.

'Yes?' I tried not to let them distract my continuous typing.

'What are you writing now?'

'Nothing'. I slammed my laptop shut. I planned to write anonymously to the press to get us in good standing with the media again. I knew I'd get in trouble.

'Great. Do you wanna give me a massage?' he dared to ask in front of everyone. My face became blank.

'No', I whispered. The detectives roused him up, making noises.

'Come on, Selena', Morello yelled from across the room, 'use your magic hands'. They chuckled. Being the center of attention extrovert that he was, Sergio's behaviour influenced everyone in the room, especially when he wasn't working. And more than often, he was rude.

'No', I asserted. At least they weren't asking about what I was writing.

'She won't do it', Julian sneered, bent over the coffee table.

'She will', Sergio replied. In the center of the table was a two-litre plastic jug of the punch I made, the last of it. Next to it, a two-litre jug of Coca-Cola.

'I have a better idea', Morello beamed, 'I challenge you to a drinking duel', he picked up the coke, 'the one to finish their drink first gets Selena's massage'.

'I am giving no massage to anyone – '

'You're on', Sergio accepted, picking up my fruit punch.

'No, not the punch', Julian discouraged them.

Other than Julian, the rest of the men in the room encouraged this behaviour, cheering them on. After counting down, they started chugging down the drinks like animals. From here, it looked like they were both drinking at the same speed, juice spilling from the edges. But Morello slowed down.

Fifteen seconds later....

'Done!' Sergio slammed his jug down seconds before Morello did.

As usual, more cheering, laughing, and shouting. Both of them beat their chest, recovering from the impact of the gas and fizz they had just pumped into their system.

I noticed Julian frown, probably irritated that he was been ignored so often by the men in the room. And the only two fresh, cold drinks made for everyone had been greedily scavenged for show.

'Only for one minute', I muttered, digging my fingers into Sergio's shoulders, and circling them around, as he reclined again. After their convincing I actually agreed to give him a massage. 'How does that feel?'

'Perfect', he groaned, sedated by the alcohol in the punch, and burping the remnants.

'Do you have to?' Julian mumbled. The commotion in the room quieted down.

'Have to what?' Sergio retorted, 'make you jealous?'

'I wouldn't be jealous of a pig', Julian vented, with a burning resentment in his chest. At that point, something was off.

'You okay, Julian?' Sergio asked.

'Yeah', Julian blushed, feeling humiliated by his Freudian slip, and the pin-drop silence. 'Er, it's late. I should head home, chief'. He stood and headed toward the door.

Sergio was provocative, rude, and many other things, but that wasn't enough to determine what had just happened. When the talking began to build up again, I skittered over to meet Julian at the door.

'Hey Julian', he turned around, 'you good?'

'Goodnight', he opened the door and walked out.

'Wait' I whispered. 'Listen, Julian. I apologise on behalf of... his behaviour. Don't take it personally. He's like that with most people'.

'Why are you apologising for him?' Julian whispered back to me, 'how do you even put up with someone like that? He's disgusting'.

'How do you mean?'

'Never mind'.

'Julian', I stopped him again, 'let's talk, tomorrow. We'll go for a coffee'.

'It's just... I can't work like this', Julian explained, expanding his thoughts.

8:00AM at Mocha-Café, Julian and I sat with our coffees by the window. 'He treats me different from everyone else. Knowing that I have to go to work every morning to see my own boss who doesn't like me...'

'How do you know?' I asked.

'I know', Julian said confidently.

'You're still new', I sipped my coffee, 'trust me, the first week I met him, I threw water on his face'.

'What?!' he couldn't believe it.

'Yeah', I nodded, 'you'll be fine, man. It's no big deal'. With a cheerful grin, I looked up at Julian... but was caught by the headlines of a newspaper that a man was reading behind him. Psychiatric Break Out, Red Hyundai Missing. My grin slowly became a frown. 'How did we miss that?'

'Huh? What did we miss?' Julian asked. My focus fixed back on Julian.

Shortly after, we were at the psychiatric hospital Amy had escaped from, working backwards from the breakout.

The car had been missing for two days.

A nice, gentle psychiatric ward guard who had recently been injured by one of the juvenile inmates owned the car. I asked for his registration plate, and a detailed description of his car.

'How are you feeling now?' I asked the guard.

'That girl, Skye – she's a real feisty one', he explained, talking about Amy. 'She knocked me out one time, had me in medical. Gave me a back injury'.

'Sorry to hear'.

'But I'm strong! And I'm ready to do anything I can to help you detectives find her'.

'Say, did anyone else investigate your stolen car – before it got on the news?' I asked. Julian took notes.

'No! No-one'.

'How much gas was in your car on the day it was hijacked?'

'Not enough to take you outta Bluebridge. I live not far from here'.

'Which gives us a radius of five miles or less to start looking for her', I explained in Sergio's kitchen, with the city map on his wall. Using a red market pen, I circled the radius.

'Good work', he said, 'how did we miss that?'

'Let's inform other local authorities in the area to help us search for her', Julian suggested.

'No!' Sergio replied, sharply, 'I don't want half the city looking for her'. Julian frowned, thinking he had done something wrong again. Every time they spoke, there was a tension. 'You... and Julian, look for her alone'.

There was only one potential motorway that Amy could've taken to get away from the isolated area of Theresa's home. So we started there. Using my special app, I scanned as many cameras as my signal could pick up on the motorway while Julian drove.

'They went this way!' I beamed with excitement, pointing to the next exit. It was all too easy, 'then take this exit'.

'Damn woman', Julian marvelled, 'you're fast'. We didn't do it the traditional way, as Sergio would've suggested. Gathering warrants, seeking permission, and doing everything the legal way? Too slow. Julian glimpsed over to my phone. 'Is that app even legal?' he asked.

'Absolutely not', I replied, 'over there!' I pointed to our destination. A... Car dealership? We slowed down and parked. I saw footage of the car go into the parking lot, but not come out.

We hopped out the car and walked intently towards the building entrance.

'Hi. Bluebridge PD', I flashed my badge to the first guy I saw sitting behind a desk. 'We need to know if a red car, Hyundai, passed by your building'. I pointed out the registration plate.

'Oh...' the receptionist squinted, 'I'll get my manager for you'. Car by car, I scanned the store. The receptionist returned. 'Yes, that car was sold to us a few days ago'.

'I'm sorry', I thought I was on a roll, 'sold?' the receptionist nodded, 'can we search the car?'

'All items from the car have been emptied out here', the manager directed me to his office, taking out a zipper bag from a locker. Some tissues, a headshot photograph of the officer we spoke to, a water bottle, porno magazines, receipts, other stuff...

'Selena, look at this', Julian unpicked a carefully folded sheet of paper, 'stop following us', he read aloud.

'So they were onto us, the whole time?' I grumbled, going on a rant as we sat in the Rosewater hotel bar. I was preoccupied re-watching surveillance tapes from the car dealership. 'Do you think they bought a new car?'

'If they're competent enough to know how to steal and drive a car... it's likely', Julian replied, 'Selena...' he lifted my chin up with his finger, 'you've been working all day. Slow down. Have a drink with me'.

'That's what I'm doing', I retorted, concentrating back on my phone screen. Then he placed his hand over my screen. I grew agitated.

'No. having a drink with me means actually just talking about something other than work', he uttered with his seducing voice, 'take your mind off it all'. He was right. I was so easily worked up about trying to find Amy and her new companion, because I didn't like to fail, that I forgot I still had to live at the end of the day.

'Okay...' I whispered, breathing in, breathing out and sipping my drink. I didn't want to lie to him, but I wasn't unwound that easily. My mind was still wrapped up in work, the press, the assignment.

'I appreciate you being so kind to me', he explained, 'after, you know... last night. I shouldn't have said that'.

'It's fine', I replied, 'we all – explode sometimes'.

'And your fruit punch...' he said smiling, as if he were reminiscing of the drink, 'it's as sweet as you'. Taken aback by his carefully composed compliment, I smiled, almost laughing. He was flirting. 'Are you always this tense?'

'Wha-what do you mean?' I scoffed. Gently, he carried the small strands of hair on my face, moving it behind my ear.

'I mean, rosewater?' he chuckled at my preference, 'it's the weekend, loosen up'.

'Fine', I proceeded to pick up his beer, and chug down the rest of it. 'Ah...' I wiped my mouth, 'there. I think we're done here'.

'Haha, we're just getting started...' Julian teased. I shook my head. 'Since you finished my drink, you owe me. Just three shots of tequila... unless you can't handle it...?' Shrewd.

Using my own competitive nature against me. Alcohol was not my MO, but I wasn't gonna not take up the challenge. Six shots later... of two different drinks, I felt ready to dance. The only thing that snapped me back into real life... was the vibrating call I received from my sister.

'She only calls when it's serious', I explained to Julian, craftily manoeuvring my way out of his web, 'sorry'.

'So soon?' he mumbled. I rocked off my chair, almost tripping myself over, 'careful there. Maybe I can drive you home?' I accidently bumped into his chest. He put his hand on my right shoulder, and another on my left hand.

'I'm good....' I wasn't good. Things were spinning... literally. I shook my head and laughed; this had to be the first time I was drunk. Julian laughed. 'Okay... you win', I groaned. When Julian stopped laughing, he leaned in and kissed me. 'Whoa, hey, okay', I leaned back, 'we can't'.

'Why not', he whispered, attempting again.

'I'm... I'm engaged to some –' I pointed my head downwards, looking at the ring on my finger, 'you know why'.

'Is that why you gave the chief a shoulder massage?'

'Huh?' frustratedly I shook my head, 'I have to go'.

'I seen the way he touches your leg at work... strokes you like his puppy –'

'Can we not do this, Julian?'

'You would do any little thing he asks you to, you're on his leach...' Julian was so sure he had figured it out, but I kept shaking my head. 'Say, does he request sexual favours?' Gazing at Julian in complete shock, anger, and disappointment, I couldn't come up with a response. My phone started ringing. 'Ooh yeah! Better pick up... massa's calling...' Julian scorned.

I slapped him in the face.

It was Sergio. I declined the call and walked as soberly as I could to the exit, slightly off balance. As soon as I was in my car, I groaned from stomach cramps. All those stupid shots I took. Julian!

'Have you been drinking?' My sister asked, after I arrived home. I slammed my keys on the kitchen counter and prepared a hot water bottle to sooth my stomach cramps.

'No, no. I think it was the pizza I ate'.

'Pizza?' Solange eyed me with suspicion, 'okay'. She pressed her index fingers together. When she did that, it was serious.

'So what is it you wanted to tell me?' I asked. She took a seat, eyeing me sternly.

'I don't know, maybe there's something you want to tell me?'

'Erm... work is great. Thanks...?' I said. What did I do now? 'I don't – know what you want me to tell you, Solange'.

'I'm not a detective', her voice was low, 'but I'm just trying to piece the puzzles together. You – already told me that you and Michael hadn't started, you know...'

'Oh my gosh', I scoffed.

'So I was taking out the trash', Solange reached into her pocket, and tossed a white stick sealed in plastic onto the counter, 'and found this'.

Oh shit.