Here you go dear readers! What's a good romance novel dealing with crime lords and such with out a detective? Hahaha I did this instead of work and writing my other stories! Yay!

Okay! For those not in the know, 8888 means the next scene is simultaneous to the last while 88888888888888888888 means the next scene takes place hours afterward, my quirky short hand!

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Not even my characters! Once I birth them they dust themselves off and leave home, barely ever bothering to write or call. Enjoy!

Two- Thoughts of a Detective

Ira Zimmerman rubbed a darkly skinned hand tiredly over his face and once more idly wished he hadn't switched majors in college and had become a carpenter instead of a detective for the Organizational Crimes Department of the Middangeard Police Force. Right now it was 11:30pm on what was meant to be a badly needed Sunday off work. These dreams were crushed when he was awoken by a call from his partner detective Triggs, what he was told had him sitting up in bed quickly enough that it disturbed his cat Rutabaga from her morning snooze. With a quick change of clothes and a thermos of Irish coffee that was MUCH more Irish than it really needed to be Ira got in his car and made the way to work.

Of all the ways to run into old college friends…

Ira remembered Gandalf well, though the two hadn't actually exchanged words in…at least a decade? Less? More? He was getting old.

When Ira had started his stint at Valinor Gandalf was already well on his way to becoming an accredited professor, the two met during Ira's sophomore year at a forensic investigation seminar. The room had ended up being packed and the two sat together at random and had idly chatted while the lecturer-a Dr. Ronald Tolk-was late due to traffic. Ira was there because he needed the credits and all of the coveted lectures and seminars taught by Professor Aule-a genius craftsman and renowned architect- had been taken and Gandalf was there seemingly for the fun of learning it.

At least that's what Gandalf had told him.

That lecture course would forever change Ira's life. Dr. Tolk was an intelligent man and his presentations upon criminal investigation- especially dealing with organized crime-had awakened interests in him that he hadn't felt since he was a child reading detective stories. And Gandalf was no help, or nothing but help, depending on your position. The two would end up having many late night talks about their class material and when Ira expressed the thought of changing his planned major Gandalf quickly arranged for Ira to talk to the famously busy Dr. Tolk to help him make the decision. It seemed like no time at all and suddenly Ira was well on his way to a criminology degree with Dr. Tolk as his mentor and woodworking had become a simple hobby.

And thus began a rather successful career and spawned the reason why Ira had specifically been called into work today- other than the fact that Gandalf had apparently asked to talk to him especially. For you see it was rather well known that Dr. Tolk had done work as a criminal investigator for Interpol before going into teaching at Valinor and though he was by then considered a "civilian" he had still worked with them on several on-going cases. The most prevalent being the effort to take down the crime Lord Morgoth or the "Black King" of the crime world. Dr. Tolk was known for his obsession with the case, an obsession he passed on to Ira. The detective had been the one to inherit the boxes upon boxes of notes and files on the Black King upon his mentor's passing and he made sure to add it all to his department's wealth of evidence.

Ira was the leading expert upon the "Morgoth Case" and any new leads or information was taken directly to him. No. Matter. What.

So after a quick debrief with an apologetic but intrigued Mrs. Sylvia Triggs Ira spent the next five hours interviewing his old college friend and his lover, a Mr. Saruman C. White. Ira watched both Gandalf and Mr. White carefully as they recounted his story, suspicious as to why the man had never come forward with his information before. Especially since it seemed he had been harassed multiple times and not only had been himself threatened but had several of his loved ones- including Gandalf- threatened multiple times by this Mairon in the past.

This man who apparently had taken up his father's mantle of a crime lord; a rather snuggly fitting reason as to why The Black King was still active after all this time and the new name of Sauron had been affixed to the title in recent years, wasn't it?

But the man was earnest and rather nervous, but had an iron spine that kept him calm enough to detail everything. He looked completely like he was telling the truth, and both he and Gandalf passed the polygraph. Both men didn't look like the type to waste police time, both were obviously not looking for money or a thrill.

They looked well fed and clean and-he might as well admit since he was alone, though it was unprofessional-attractively well kept. If Mr. White really was being stalked Ira Zimmerman could understand why, though the man really wasn't his type. Ira preferred his women softer and his men harder than himself, and Mr. White was all soft underneath the snarky/straight backed attitude. A tad too soft for his liking. And Gandalf was a friend.

Anyway,

Though Ira balked at the implication that the son of the Black King had actually attended their school, right under everyone's nose- hell, he had even heard of the guy during his time there- the details given by both Saruman and Gandalf seemed to coincide with evidence from the time period.

And on the list of possible identities of Morgoth Dr. Tolk had placed a Melkor Belegur-a "shady" little-known entrepreneur- as one of the top three.

And so after a long talk with his superior Ira went about the task of compiling and gathering records while detective Triggs escorted their two witnesses home and set up a vigil outside Mr. White's house undercover. After a few hours and a lackluster lunch with a small whisky chaser to keep him going Ira had replaced Triggs at her post in his own car. She had tried to argue to stay longer but she had a family to go home to, he had a well fed cat and a cold case that just might be turning hot again after two years of non-activity.

And so here he sat, car off, portable police radio on so he could have a line open to dispatch, and a bag of nuts, a bottle of water and his flask to keep him company. Several newly printed files sat in a box in his backseat, ready to be taken to his "Case Room" at home. He had one at work as well.

He needed to get out more.

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3:00 am.

Shit… he was tired. Just a few more hours and Gonzalez would take over from here and he would get to go home for a while before starting afternoon shift with Triggs. Ira yawned and cracked his back, rubbing a hand through his curly hair and did another sweep of the street. The middle class neighborhood was quiet and dark, the only light in the pre-dawn were the street lamps and soon they would turn off.

They just turned off.

Ira blinked his eyes to adjust to the new light and counted the amount of parked cars he could see on the street. The number was the same. He looked at the houses, all dark. He surveyed Mr. White's house from his position across the street. Just like his neighbors his home was quiet and dark. A scrawny looking tabby slinked across his yard, it gave a look in Ira's direction before walking out of sight around the front of the two cars in the driveway.

He wondered if Rutabaga had enough water back at home, he had forgotten to check her water dish before he left this morning.

Ira was about to give another yawn when his eyes caught movement. A black, sleek car was rolling its way into the street. It drove slowly and had the headlights off. He squinted his eyes to try and discern details as it got near him. It looked like the car Gandalf had described. There was no license plate.

It stopped in front of Mr. White's home and idled, Ira sat perfectly still in his slouched position. He saw shapes moving in the cabin, two figures. Probably males. They seemed to be talking- at least their heads seemed to point to one another occasionally.

Now wide awake Ira slowly moved a hand and reached for his gun, which he had placed upon the seat next him. Just as his hand enclosed around the handle and he fingered the safety the passenger side of the black car opened. A large figure of a man, dressed in all black, quickly crossed the lawn and walked upon the porch.

Ira flipped the safety and was just about to jump out of the car when the man started on his way back. Within a moment he closed the door and the car began to move forward, but it did not speed off. It crept forward once more, Ira could see the heads of the figures inside looking in his direction. When the passenger window was parallel to his own a light came on right in his eyes, both hands came up then. One pointing his gun and the other to protect his vision.

Blinking quickly he saw that both passenger and driver stared at him, he realized the light was a flashlight. The staring contest continued for a timeless moment and then the light was off and the car drove speedily away, its head lights still turned off. Breathlessly Ira got out of his car and watched as the other vehicle drove out of the street as he tried to get someone on the radio.

Just as it turned he got someone on the line and reported his number, his location, the car details and its current direction. As soon as he was told someone was on the way to try and intercept he left the radio and rummaged through his car quickly for his own flashlight. Then, keeping his gun drawn, he made his way across the street and on to Mr. White's porch.

He flashed his light upon what had been left there: a bouquet of flowers, a rare colorful assortment of them. They were wrapped in a white paper held closed by a string, something was tied to the string. He knelt down to get a closer look; it was a shiny golden ring and little white card with a punch hole in the corner for the string to go through. In neat cursive lines was written a single four letter word.

Soon.

Okay! Zimmerman means carpenter (heh) and Triggs means loyal. Artistic license on any and all police proceedings, I'll try my best to be as accurate as possible but please remember I'm going by T.V. shows like Law & Order and friggin wikipedia as my references.

I think the word rutabaga is funny. Please tell me what you think and stayed tuned! :)