Hey guys, I'm back with the fic finally. Here's the next chapter.

Enjoy

Chapter Nine: By Blood or Choice

10:00 – 11:00 P.M.

After a few moments of just sitting there in silence with Max, I slowly untangle myself from her. As much as I would love to spend hours remaining like this, there is work to be done and mysteries to solve. I stand up, stretch my arms above my head, hearing a soft clicking as I do, and roll my shoulders before turning back to Max with my hand outstretched, "Let's bounce."

Max offers up a wide grin as she accepts my hand. I gently pull her up off the bed and we make our way to my door. We carry on down the hallway to the stairwell leading to the central hallway on the first floor, then entered through the double doors on the right about halfway down to access the restaurant hallway. At the end of this hallway, we go through the door leading into the bar.

As we take a seat on two of the wooden stools at the currently empty bar counter, Warren turns to us with a charming smile, or at least what he considers to be charming anyway, "I knew you two would be back. Can't get enough of me, huh?"

I roll my eyes at him playfully, "You wish. I'm just here for the booze."

"I figured you'd say that. Have to say I was hoping for a bit of friendliness," he shakes his head in an over-exaggeratedly melodramatic manner, "Guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up," he then turns to Max with a grin, "You're happy to see me, right?"

I shake my head at his words, "Oh god Warren, stop hassling Max already."

He holds up his hands resignedly, "Hey, no need to go all alpha male on my ass."

I reach over and push his shoulder, "Well, someone has to. You have to admit; you are damn persistent."

He manages to steady himself using the counter, "Not so much after you broke my nose that time," he reaches up instinctively to rub his nose, "I can still feel it you know."

I shrug nonchalantly, "It taught you a valuable lesson."

"Yeah, don't mess with Chloe Price or any other chick who looks like she could deck you," he mentions in a cheeky tone and after a stern look from me he adds as a grumbled afterthought, "and to not be a total stalkery creep."

"That's better," I respond with a smug smirk, "I wouldn't want to have to knock more sense into you."

"Me neither. Anyway let's hook you guys up with some drinks," Warren turns back and gets preparing a surprise concoction for me and a soda for Max. Once mixed up, he places them down on the table in front of us with a gentle clink, "I call this little number 'The Dusk'. You won't forget it in a hurry."

I pull the glass towards me, taking a healthy sip of the mystery cocktail, my eyes widening a fraction as the taste of gin and vermouth linger on my lips. The only kiss I have known in months… well until very recently anyway. I use this opportunity to sneak a glance at Max, who is happily sipping her soda through a straw. It's then that I hear Rachel's voice in my mind.

"Chloe, when this case wraps up, we need to have a chat. There's something I need to talk to you about. Can you make the time?"

I let out a small sigh as I recall her last words to me before she went AWOL. We never had the chance to have that chat and I often wonder what she was going to tell me. I shake my head, trying to prevent myself from wallowing in self-pity anymore, "That's just what I needed, Warren. Really hit the spot."

I glance back over to Max, whose brow is now furrowed in concern. Before I have the chance to say anything to calm her fears Warren pipes up, "What's up? You look run down."

"Just… thinking too much," I mumble as I swirl the glass in my hand, watching as the pale liquid spins around and the ice clinks against the side.

Warren nods sympathetically as he puts a bottle back on the shelf behind him, "Sounds to me like you need to get more booze down you."

I offer up a small smile, "Maybe. If you keep making them like this, then I'm more than happy to have them all."

He responds with a wide toothy grin, "Glad to hear. I told you, this is the one job in this dump I take seriously," his expression becomes more uncertain and vulnerable now, "Don't laugh, but I've always wanted a place like this of my own. You're kind of to blame for that."

I have to admit, I am shocked to hear this, "Wait, what?"

He scratches at his head as he clarifies, "It was that damn story you told me back in Arcadia."

I have no recollection of this, then again I have tried to block out a lot of what happened in Arcadia, "Story?"

Warren nods before stroking his chin, "Yeah, it must have been about the third time you busted me. We were in one of those dingy interview rooms," a fond glint forms in his eyes and a distant smile tugs at the corner of his lips, "I can still hear you, 'You dream of being a thief as a kid, Warren? This your dream job? I'm sure there's something else you wanted, right? Fireman? Doctor? Rock Star?' I was staring up at the ceiling waiting for the good cop lecture to end, but then you got this really serious look in your eyes and you made up that story that got my ass in gear."

I run through every memory I can recall about Arcadia, yet still can't figure out what he is talking about, "I don't remember making up a story."

He pauses for a moment while he gathers his thoughts, "You started talking about your old man."

My eyebrows raise a fraction and my heart drops, "I… told you about my dad?"

"Damn right," Warren confirms before launching into more detail, "You told me he was some kind of genius safecracker. You were fourteen and he decides to give it up, spend more time with his family. He takes one last job to tide you guys over and he gets bumped off," he shakes his head with a sigh, "Even though I knew you were pulling my leg, I had a tear or two in my eyes," he shifts his weight over to his right side before continuing, "You told me your dad didn't want to be a thief, he wanted to be a photographer. Then you leaned in real close, voice barely a whisper and said, 'Don't make the same mistake he did. Don't live a lie.' Damn, I even get chills now thinking about it."

I take a deep breath and swallow hard, "Warren… that wasn't made up."

Warren's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, "Wait… you're saying it's true?"

I take a sip from my drink before affirming, "Yeah, every word."

He just stares at me silently for a few seconds, his eyes searching mine to make sure I'm not messing with him, "Oh man, what a trip. I think I need a drink after that. Oh yeah, before I forget."

I tilt my head to the side slightly with an amused grin, "Oh, this should be good."

Warren gets this really determined expression on his face, "I challenge you to a game of bowling."

"Where the hell did that come from?" I ask curiously, interested to hear the reasoning.

"I've been really into bowling recently, using the hallway outside my room to practice," he mentions casually, his mouth quirking into a confident smirk, "I have to say, I'm pretty good at it and I figured you might enjoy getting your ass served to you," he turns to Max momentarily, "Max, you can come play too if you like, the more the merrier," after she offers up a small nod, he glances back over to me with a daring look, "So, you up for the challenge?"

Not one to turn down a challenge, I accept his invitation, "When and where?"

"Meet back here at eleven," he arranges with a confident tone, "You'd better prepare to get that pride of yours crushed into the ground under my shoe."

"Fighting talk, I like it. It'll make it all the better when I beat you hands down," I drain the remained of my drink and shove a twenty on the counter to cover this round of drinks as well as a modest tip, "We'll be back then."

Warren waves us off as we exit the bar, both of us looking forward to what the night has in store for us. We stop abruptly on seeing a familiar young girl in the hallway, Melissa. Max and I exchange questioning glances before approaching her.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, wondering why she would be hanging around here of all places.

Melissa scuffs her shoe along the carpet, "Looking for my dad."

"Again?" I sigh deeply, "He is useless. Well, he isn't in the bar right now."

Melissa's head tilts to the side curiously, "Bar? Dad's been in places like that a lot since mom left," her expression becomes troubled on saying this and her voice mumbled, "He always smells funny and talks weird after. He cries a lot too."

Max takes a step forward then, crouching down and wrapping her arms tightly around Melissa, who immediately returns the hug and buries her head into Max's shoulder. I know how she feels, lost and angry. After a few moments, Max pulls away with a reassuring smile before standing back up again.

"Look, we'll keep an eye out for your dad, ok? So just sit tight," I promise in a soft tone.

Melissa, while still looking miserable, seems to be a bit happier than before, "Ok," with that, she turns back and makes her way out of the hallway.

"That kid's been through a lot, huh?" another voice mentions from behind Max and I. We turn to see Joyce stood by the door leading into the kitchen, her blue eyes flickering with sadness.

I glance over to the double doors leading into the central hallway where Melissa exited moments ago, "I just wish there was something I could do to cheer that kid up."

Joyce's face crumples up slightly in thought, "Maybe there is," both Max and I focus our attention on her, eager to hear what she is going to propose, "I know it's a little early being October and all, but kids get all hyped up over Christmas. There's a tree in the storage room at the back, the room next to mine. Maybe you could decorate that up, take her mind off things."

I ponder over this suggestion for a few second, "That's not a bad idea actually. We should probably sort out some kind of present if we're going all out… I doubt she's had much since her mom left. What the hell can we get?"

It is then that Max begins tugging at my sleeve and gently leading out into the lobby over to the vending machines. She moves us round to the right hand side, pointing out a messy note. I scan the note with curiosity.

Find all nine numbers hidden around the hotel, add and subtract them accordingly and enter in the answer to get a special prize, a limited edition hawt dog man plushie.

I grin at the note, "Good find, Max. I doubt anyone's bothered to do that in this dump. It's worth a shot," we spent the next twenty minutes or so searching the hotel for the hidden numbers written on pieces of card stuck in obscure places. Once we've found them all, we make our way back the vending machine, shove a quarter into it and punched in the answer. A soft whirring fills the air and a light thud indicates that something has fallen into the machine tray. I crouch down and take it out, finding that it is a hawt dog man plushie.

I turn the plushie over in my hand, before handing it over to Max for safe keeping, "Perfect, just like on her puzzle."

I hold my hand up, with Max instinctively high fiving it, having to stand on her tip-toes to reach which I find kind of cute really. After acquiring the gift, we take the door next to the vending machine, the corridor of which leads to the main office, David and Joyce's room, the back set of stairs heading up to the second floor and the storage room Joyce talked about. We walk past the door to the stairs, turning left until we hit the end and enter into the storage room door on the right hand side. The first thing I notice is the mountain of cardboard boxes piled almost up to the ceiling.

"Great, a treasure hunt," I mutter under my breath as Max and I begin to move aside the boxes until we locate the box for the Christmas tree and the one with the decorations inside too. Together, we unbox the tree and get it set up.

Just as we finish up, the door behind us opens with a loud creak. We turn back to see Melissa, who makes her way over to us, "Joyce told me you guys would be in here and that I should go meet y-," when her eyes fall on the tree, they light up significantly and she forgets her initial train of thought, "Oh, a Christmas tree."

Max and I step aside so she can get a better look, "Yeah, it's a bit early, but we can decorate it if you want."

"Can we?" she asks with a child-like excitement in her eyes.

I motion towards the box with my hand, "Go nuts. All the decorations are in that box there."

Melissa stared at the box before glancing back up at Max and me, "Are you gonna help?"

"If you want us to," with a firm nod from Melissa, the three of us begin to decorate the artificial tree, which incidentally is around the same height as Max, positioned at the back of the room. Max and I take the higher branches while Melissa decorates everything she can reach. Soon, there is only the star left to put on top. Melissa takes it in her hand and stares up at the top of the tree, obviously trying to work out how to reach it.

I shake my head and chuckle, "Need a hand? Let me lift you up so you can get it."

Melissa nods and I come to stand behind her. I take hold of her waist and lift her up so that she is in line with the top of the tree, something that seems to amuse her greatly given the squeal of delight as she leaves the floor. She carefully places the golden star on the top of the tree and I set her back down on the floor again. She stares up at the tree in awe as a wide grin forms on her face, "It's so pretty."

Her smile is contagious, with both Max and myself beaming at her happy expression, "That's not all," I announce which causes her to spin round. Max takes her cue and reaches into her bag, taking out the six inch plushie from it. If I thought Melissa was smiling before, that is nothing compared to now as Max hands the toy over.

Melissa looks from Max to me, then launches herself at us, her arms encircling our waists, "Thank you."

I ruffle her hair, "No problem, squirt."

After a few moments, I feel the grip on me loosen and a faint snoring. It appears that Melissa has fallen asleep from all the excitement. I exchange an amused glance with Max, who smiles warmly at me. With a bit of maneuvering, I manage to pick her up without waking her. In her sleep dazed state, she snuggles up closer to me as Max and I take her out the storage room and use the stairs to carry her up to the upper floor. Once outside her room, Max knocks but receives no reply. I shift Melissa's weight in my arms as Max cautiously pushes on the door to find it unlocked. We enter the room and I gently rest her on one of the beds in the room. Max then wraps her up in the blanket, placing the toy in her arms once more and we exit the room.

The second Max closes the door behind us, anger pulses through my body just thinking about how lonely Melissa is, "I'm gonna find that guy and give him a piece of my mind," I growl through gritted teeth. Max places a hand on mine, her eyes pleading with me to remain calm. I take a deep breath, "Sorry I'm just angry at him for leaving her all alone like this."

Max nods sympathetically, her blue eyes melancholic and distant. She's alone too, so knows how Melissa must be feeling to an extent. I gently squeeze her hand before we make our way downstairs to look for Kevin. We don't have to wait long to find him as he's standing in the lobby with his back to us.

"Hey," I call out in the calmest tone I can muster. He slowly turns, nearly falling over in the process. On seeing us, he offers up a huge drunken grin, "Oh, hey there! How are you doing? Isha lovely night, isn't it?!" he laughs raucously, very clearly off his head drunk, his words slurred indicating that he must have consumed an impressive amount of alcohol.

"I assume you've been to the bar then?" I ask through gritted teeth as I grip on tighter to Max. I've had one too many a bad experience with drunk people in my career and while I doubt Kevin would start anything in the lobby, I don't want to risk it. Max seems thankful for the extra support, shifting closer to me with her eyes pinned to Kevin.

"I have. Yesh, ma'am," he hiccups loudly, seeming almost shocked by the noise.

I get ready to tear into him, "Well, I'm glad to see you're having a good time at least. Not like Melissa."

His expression sobers up a fraction, "What about Melissa?"

I clench my free fist to suppress the overwhelming urge to smack him, "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing you would care about. She was looking for you."

Kevin scoffs at my claim, "Yer a liar, Miss Price. A LIAR!" his volume control is non-existent by this point as he sways from side to side in a drunken stupor.

"A liar?" I ask curiously.

"Thassh right! My liddle girl… She… HATESH me!" he mutters before letting out an undignified belch, "She'd never look fer me. Thass why I know yer lyin'…"

I shake my head at him, "Go to your room and ask her, if you can make it that far."

His face scrunches up, "Mind yer own business! Whadda YOU know? …NUSHING! Thash what! Get outta my life! Leave me alone!" he shouts before stumbling off towards the front desk, nearly falling over a few times as he goes.

You don't get off that lightly, no way in hell.

I follow after him, with Max hot on my heels, and stand in front of him so he can't escape, "Hey, I'm talking to you."

He groans, "Don't… don't want company. Leave me alone… ugh…" he grabs at his head and closes his eyes, "Shouldn't have drunk sho mush…"

"Who were you drinking with?"

"Iss nonna yer… BUSINESS!" he grumbles, jabbing a finger in my direction and almost falling over from the motion. Realizing that I am not going to get anything out of him like this and only increasing the risk of him lashing out in this drunken state, I offer up a shrug to Max as we make our way back into the lobby.

Maybe we can ask Warren who he was drinking with…

"Max, we need to stop by the bar again," I announce. She seems to be thinking over my reasoning, then something clicks in her eyes and she nods. Without delay, we head on back to the bar, surprised to see Victoria just leaving. She basically blanks us, strutting back to her room. Warren watches her leave with a sigh and I roll my eyes at him, "Working your charm on the ladies again I see?"

He breaks out of his trance with a shy grin, "I'm just here to make sure she has a good time at the bar."

"Uh-huh, sure. I might believe that if you pick your jaw up off the floor," I wryly mention, "Anyway, back to more important things…"

"Hey," he interrupts firmly, "Chicks are an important topic man."

"Of course you'd say that. I'm just surprised to not see you with a black eye," I chuckle heartily before focusing on the task at hand, "Anyway, who was Kevin drinking with earlier?"

He points to the door, "Victoria actually. Strange combo, huh? They were talking about some Gallery May in Santa Monica I think, it was hard to tell with Kevin slurring away…" he clears his throat, "not that I, a respectable bartender, would divulge that information because I totally wasn't listening in or anything."

I feel Max tense beside me and look over to her, "What's up?"

She motions for me to hand over my notebook, which I do, and scribbles away before handing it back over.

I remember that name, Gallery May. I don't know why, but the name is really familiar.

I stare at Max's loopy handwriting, my mind racing at a million miles an hour. If Max knows about Gallery May, then it could be crucial to finding out who she really is.

I guess it's time to go talk to Victoria then, great.

"Thanks, Warren. We'll swing by later for that bowling competition," I remark as we make our way out of the bar and back up to the second floor. We head on down to Victoria's room and I knock loudly.

After a few seconds, the door opens revealing Victoria. The moment she notices us, a sneer of disapproval appears, "What do you want?"

"Just wondering what you were doing with Kevin at the bar. You don't seem to be the most compatible of people," I observe. It's true, Kevin and Victoria really don't look like they should get on in any way, shape or form.

Her lip curls in disapproval at my invasiveness, "While that is hardly any of your business, he just happened to be there and we got talking."

I decide to go out on a limb and use the eavesdropped knowledge I acquired from Warren earlier to try and drag some information out of Victoria, "About Gallery May?"

Victoria seems amazed that I know of the place at all, her eyes widening slightly in fleeting shock, "Yes, if you must know. I just mentioned it on passing and he said he knew of it," she quickly manages to cover up the surprise with her usual look of disdain, "If you've quite finished with mundane questions," her eyes soften a fraction as she continues in a hushed tone, "I have a favor to ask of you. There is no-one else I can really turn to."

This cry for help piques my interest, "Really?"

"Just… come in will you?" she snaps in irritation, stepping aside to let us in. After exchanging a quick glance with Max, who appears to be just as confused as I am, we head on into Victoria's room. The second we step inside, she begins to tentatively explain her situation, "I'll get to the point. When I returned to my room I noticed something… strange," she points over to her suitcase on the side, "It was subtle, but my suitcase had been moved. Someone has been in here without my permission."

Sounds familiar.

Max offers me a knowing look as I ask, "Was anything stolen?"

"Yes…" she begins to say, but it appears that she is stopping herself from explaining further.

"Have you tried the front desk? I hear David has a lot of experience with thefts," I mention sounding wry. Nothing would make David happier than having yet another lengthy investigation that could lead to police involvement… except literally anything.

"I… haven't," Victoria hesitantly admits, "It's complicated and I don't want there to be a lot of questions. Besides, nobody cares unless it's money," she adds as an afterthought.

Way to make it sound shady as hell. Then again, those were always the cases I craved.

I lightly tap my foot on the floor, "So what did they take?"

Victoria glances down at her feet before mumbling, "I… can't say."

I can't help but smirk at her resistance, "Well I can't help if you don't tell me."

She looks up at me with hope filling her eyes, "So you will help me?"

I shrug non-committedly, "Depends on how cooperative you are."

Victoria appears to be thinking things over, various different emotions cycling across her face before settling on resignation, "A small envelope was taken."

Envelopes always proved to be interesting items and I had seen all sorts of things being shoved into them in my time with the Force. It sure as hell didn't narrow it down much, "What's in the envelope?"

"I can't tell you," Victoria echoed her earlier tune, something that could be considered a catchphrase for her given the amount of times she'd said it during this conversation, "I was sworn to secrecy. I made a promise to the person who gave it to me and before you ask, it was a… friend named Grace. That was your next question, right? Her name will be on the envelope."

Grace, huh?

"What kind of friend?"

Victoria's brow furrows in irritation, "Just a friend. Is that so hard to get through your thick skull?"

"I wouldn't be insulting the person I want to help me," I cheekily mention, enjoying every second I have power over her.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself, "Sorry, it is really important I get it back and soon."

I glance over to Max, who nods at me encouragingly. She obviously wants me to help Victoria, "Ok fine, I'll help."

"Hmm… well that isn't what I was expecting," she manages a small appreciative smile, "but I'm glad to hear it."

Once we had agreed to help Victoria, we left her room only to bump into Kevin, who was stood just a few feet from Victoria's door, "What are you doing here?" I ask in an accusatory tone.

"Uh… nothing…" he mumbles, looking guilty as hell.

I let it slide, not really interested in what he's doing here beyond what information he can give to aid my search, "Doesn't matter. I have questions."

Kevin shakes his head firmly, still very obviously drunk although he's calmed down a bit from earlier, "Not… don't want to talk."

My teeth grit at his reluctance, "I don't give a damn what you want to be honest. I heard you were chugging them back with Victoria. You know her?"

"N-no. We just met today at the bar. Not that it matters. I can… talk to who I want," he stumbles over his words inarticulately, clearly unable to hold his liquor.

And I thought I was bad…

"Sure, whatever you say," I dismissively wave away his defenses, "I need to ask you about Gallery May."

His eyes narrow suspiciously at me, as if he thinks I'm trying to trick him or something "W-why?"

"I've got my reasons, important reasons," I remain just as elusive as he is being with me. It's not like he'd probably remember anything I tell him in this state anyway, "How do you know about the Gallery?"

He goes quiet for a moment before weakly replying, "My… my wife used to work there. I'm… done with this… going back to my room…" he glances over to the central hallway with an unfocused stare.

"Not so fast," I grab onto his wrist to stop him from leaving, which he tries to unsuccessfully shake off.

"No… we're done… I don't… know anything," he mutters under his breath in protest.

"I think you know a lot more than you're letting on," I prompt, knowing that this comment will either make or break the discussion.

His face darkens a fraction at my statement, "How… DARE you. We're done! DONE! My problems are MINE! NOT yours… not yours…"

I let go of his wrist now, "Look, I have no interest in your personal life, but you know things that I have to find out. The sooner you tell me, the sooner I'll be off your back."

He seems to be thinking this over for a moment, before sighing in defeat, "What…. What do you want to know?"

"Let's talk about Victoria," I press, curious to find out what the deal with her is.

He nods solemnly, "She… said she knew Grace… Melissa's mother and my… my wife. Victoria mentioned Gallery May and then… told me she knew Grace and…" he lets out a deep sigh before going off on a slight tangent, "It's my fault she left… all my fault…"

Feeling that he is extremely close to spilling everything, I hammer the last nail in the coffin, "How is it your fault?"

He steadies himself before telling Max and I the whole sordid story in a surprisingly sobered up tone, "A few months ago I lost a patient on the operating table and got sued for it," I remember Melissa telling me that her dad was a surgeon earlier, "They wanted so much money and… the patient's family won the case. My medical insurance wouldn't cover it all, so I was left to pick up the overwhelming excess," he closes his eyes momentarily, probably reliving that difficult time, "I tried to divorce Grace… so her and Melissa wouldn't get involved in my debt, but she refused. One day, she just turned up with the money to pay for the case. It was so much money. I kept asking her where she got it from, but she wouldn't tell me. We fought and argued until…" he swallows hard before saying the next part, "she had enough of my questions and left."

There was still a missing link to all this, "Why come here of all places?"

Kevin does his best to meet my eyes with a focused stare, even though he is unsuccessful, "Brochure… I found a brochure for this place in her purse after she left. So I came here to search for clues, but… I couldn't find a damn thing. I'm a failure…" his voice trails off into silence.

I take this opportunity to look at Max who is stood beside me right now. She is giving Kevin a conflicted look, one that is both sympathetic but also slightly angry at the whole situation. I feel very much the same, understanding that he's been through a lot and feeling sorry for him, however annoyed at how he has inadvertently caused Melissa to suffer though foolish actions. While nobody's perfect, there are better ways to handle certain situations, especially when kids are involved.

After letting him wallow in self-pity for a few seconds, I speak up again, "I won't argue there, but you can pull through this. You have Melissa relying on you. No matter what you think, she does care about you and loves you. You're the only family she has now and visa-versa. Don't waste that time with her," I finish of my mini-speech, hoping that at least something will get through to him.

"I… you're right. I… need to get back to my room and think a few things over…" with that, he stumbles back towards his room.

I run my fingers through my hair, sighing deeply as we watch him open the door and disappear behind it, "Let's hope that he actually takes my advice," I mumble, really praying for some change between Melissa and her dad.

I feel something enclose around the fingers of my left hand which dangles limply by my side, looking down to find Max's hand firmly wedged in mine. She looks up at me with a look that makes my heart hurt, one that is happy at the resolution but tinged with melancholy. Families are important, whether tied by blood or choice. That was something that was reinforced with every single case I worked on in Arcadia, and continues to be even to this day with moments like these.

Have an amazing day, keep yourself safe out there and see you next time.