TWENTY-FOUR

"Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it."

—Mary Shelley

LISA

"This is breaking and unprecedented news. Only hours after Senator Myoi's all-white charity ball and Jennie Manoban's hospitalization, First Lady Julie Monroe was arrested and charged with treason and the murder of her husband, President Monroe. Thus, making her the first woman to ever have a hand in the assassination of a U.S. President. The FBI claims they were given an anonymous tip with undoubtable proof of her involvement. First Lady Julie Monroe only days ago vowed to run in her husband's place for this year's coming election. This is all very confusing and honestly unfathomable. But stay tuned. We hope to keep you updated on…"

"Are you eating my Jell-O?" Jen whispered, trying to open her eyes.

Staring at the cup in my hands, I frowned. "I thought you hated Jell-O."

"You thought wrong, now hand it over." She reached forward, taking the cup from my hands and eating a spoonful.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Like I've been in bed too long…and hungry," she muttered, scarfing down the little that was left in the small cup.

"Sixteen hours of sleep will do that to you." Reaching over to her bedside, I grabbed the second cup I had conned the nurse out of from her tray. She watched my hand before taking my Jell-O once again. "Sixteen hours? Why in the hell would you let me sleep that long?"

"You haven't had a good sleep in days. Besides, there was nothing for you to do anyway." If I had woken her, she would have killed me.

She stopped mid-bite, glaring at me. "In our line of work there is always something to do. So the real question is, what have you been doing?"

All I could do was roll my eyes at her and turn up the volume of the television.

"People all over the world are still reeling over the arrest of First Lady Julie Monroe. It was only hours ago that the FBI announced that the First Lady was arrested in connection with President Monroe's murder. From what we've been told, it took only one anonymous tip to unravel this national tragedy…"

"You tipped them off?" she asked.

"No, I tipped off your mole. He deserves a raise, don't you think? Catching the President's killer is a huge step up," I replied, dialing Nickhun for what had to be the ninth time.

"That's all you did today?" She sighed, staring at the now empty Jell-O cup.

"Really?" I smirked, shaking my head. "You're not killing my high today, wife. I'm having a son and about to get the White House."

She laughed, as she rubbed her stomach fondly. "First, I'm sorry, it's the hunger speaking. Second, we're having a son."

Sitting next to her, I kissed her forehead, taking her hands into mine.

"We're having a son," I whispered down to her.

"Are you nervous?" she whispered back.

"I think I will be at some point. But like I said, I'm numb with happiness. Are you nervous?"

"Yeah." Leaning back against the pillow, she took a deep breath.

"You're going to be a great mother. So, what do you want to eat?" I asked, dialing Adriana.

She grinned widely. "French Onion Soup with stuffed Artichokes on the side and a large chocolate milkshake?"

"Is that all?"

She smacked my arm.

"Ma'am?" Adriana said on the other line.

"I want a bowl of French Onion Soup with stuffed Artichokes and a chocolate milkshake—"

"Large," Jen stated, biting her spoon.

"A large chocolate milkshake."

"I'll have it brought over in half an hour," she replied.

"Hurry, before she bites off my arm for a snack," I said quickly before hanging up. She reached over to smack me again, but I grabbed her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist instead.

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped.

"Like what?"

"Like…" She was interrupted by the second phone in my pocket. "Isn't that my phone?"

"It is," I told her, answering, "Manoban."

"Ma'am? This is Officer Beau Brooks and I believe we may have a problem."

Rising to my feet, I placed the phone on speaker. "You believe we have a problem or you know we have a problem?"

The smile on Jen's face dropped as she glared at the phone in my hands.

"Ma'am, there is a maid here who says she overheard the conversation with the First Lady and Scarlet when she returned to your home to get her belongings after being terminated. She also claims she's seen a lot more within the Manoban household. But that's all she says, she isn't speaking in detail until immigration gives her a visa. The FBI is trying to make this a double whammy and pull charges up on you also. She's under twenty-four hour protection"

"Shit. Fucking Mina," Jen hissed. "Brooks, hold on and make sure she can't talk until we call you back."

"How does this involve Mina?" I asked her when he was gone.

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath. "She fired all the illegals working for us for the charity shit. Whoever this woman is, she's probably sharpening her axe for us, wanting revenge for what your idiot brother's dumb bitch of a wife did. Damn it. This is the last motherfucking time we leave Mina or him in charge of anything!"

"Love, relax. The baby."

She froze, placing her hand over her belly before turning to me. "We have to move quickly."

"Beau can't kill her," I thought aloud. "There is just too much focused in and around her right now since she knows enough about us to use it as a bargaining chip. Shouldn't she be more afraid?"

"I don't think the maids were that bright to begin with." She sighed, trying her best to keep calm, but she was raging. I could see it.

"Even an idiot knows when to be afraid."

Fear was human nature. People instinctively knew when to stay away. It's what kept the human race alive.

Jen froze, looking up at me. "Not unless she's more afraid of what will happen if she didn't talk. Her visa, Lisa. For whatever reason she needs a visa and she needs it now."

"Relax." I kissed her forehead. "I will bring you up to speed after it's dealt with."

"Lisa…"

"Jen, no."

The last thing I needed was her stressing out over this. It wasn't worth it. Thankfully, before she could call me a sexist asshole, Adriana walked in with a tray of her food.

"Feed her, I'll be back soon," I said, already dialing as I walked towards the door.

"I'm not a dog, you chauvinistic asshole, and we aren't done here. Who…"

Closing the door, I yelled a quick, "I love you too!"

Stepping into the hall, I was met with a bunch of nosy nurses all staring at the door. "What are you all looking at? Don't you people have lives to save or something?"

They looked away immediately, pretending to be otherwise occupied.

"Nickhun, this is my ninth call to you. You better be dead or dying somewhere." This family was starting to tick me the fuck off.

"Lisa, is Jen alright?" My mother glided on over to me with an array of bright sunflowers in one hand and Mina standing by the other. She held her head high and rolled her manicured hand over those stupid fucking pearls she always wore.

I didn't bother answering my mother. Instead, I snatched Mina's arm and pulled.

"What the hell are you doing? Let go of me this instant!" she screamed like the hideous banshee she was.

Pushing her into the stairwell, I grasped on to her neck, forcing her against the wall. "Do you know what I get to do today? I get to clean up your shit. Do I look like a shit cleaning type of person?"

"I…can't…breathe…" she gasped, clawing at my hands so harshly her fake nails popped off.

"If you can't breathe, you can't speak. I'm seconds away from popping your ugly head off of your shoulders—"

"Get the fuck off my wife!" Bambam pulled me back, his fist quickly colliding with my jaw.

Falling to the ground, Mina gasped for air, her hands around her throat, as Bambam hovered over her.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" he shouted.

Brushing the side of my lip, I stared at the red stain on my sleeve. I could feel the sadistic smile tugging on my lips as I stared at my brother.

"This is your final warning, Bambam. Control your wife or I swear to God I will kill her."

"I should control my wife? How about not letting your wife fucking control you? Everything is about her! What has she done? Did she not agree with Jen's shoes?"

"The drama between my wife and yours does not concern me. You of all people should know Jen does not need me to fight those battles for her." I again wiped my bruised lip, staring at the jackass in front of me. "However, the moment your sniveling breallóg of a wife fired the maids in my house without speaking to me or fully explaining to them what would happen if they spoke to the police, your wife became my enemy."

He froze as if he was encased in ice.

"I didn't think any of them would…" she said weakly.

"You didn't think!" I roared at her, causing her to jump back. "The drama you've created in this family I can, and have, overlooked. The drama you create in my work—my way of my life—you're lucky you're still alive! Breathe in the wrong direction and you will not live long enough to regret it."

Stepping towards the door, the sad lump of shit that was my brother called out.

"Lisa, she…"

"Don't make excuses!" I roared. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down before I blew his brains out in this hospital. "All I need from you is to find Nickhun and tell him to pick up his damn phone."

Stepping out into the hall, my mother stood waiting. The bundle of sunflowers that was once in her arms were now replaced with a first aid kit. Her eyes went straight to my lip before falling to the scratches on my arm and hand.

"Excuse me, dear." She pulled a male nurse. "Can we get a private room please?"

"Mother."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry I can't—"

"Let me rephrase this, can you please show me and my bleeding daughter here to a private room in the hospital she helped fund and damn well near saved from bankruptcy?" Her voice was polite, but the grip she held on the nurse's arm screamed hostile.

Nodding, he pointed over to an empty bed. "I can handle her wounds."

"No thank you, dear." She patted his arm. "Come on, Lisa…"

"Mother, I'm fine. Stop being ridiculous."

She stepped forward, and although I had to drop my head to meet her gaze, I knew better than to fight her on this. This…this was code for 'I need to talk to you, so shut the fuck up and listen.'

Pulling out my phone, I dialed, as we walked towards the private bed in the corner with the blue curtains.

"I knew one of you were going to need this." She sighed, pulling out the bandages.

"I'm fine. I would be a lot better if people would answer their fucking phones."

"Language."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Honestly, mother?"

"I'm just trying to help you. Do your really want your son coming out swearing? You should prepare to censor yourself. Now, give me your hand." Obeying her, I tried once again to contact Brooks, but he kept sending me to voicemail. Something was happening.

"Nickhun?"

"No," I hissed at the alcohol she poured on my cuts. "Work. Work I shouldn't have to do, but your daughter-in-law has become nothing but a growing cancerous pain in my…ah! Damn it, Ma!"

"Stop being a baby." She laughed as she wrapped my hand. "Have you gotten any real sleep since this all started?"

I didn't answer, not because I hadn't slept, but because I knew she would say it wasn't enough. I spent most of the day watching over security tapes, Jen's vitals, and contacts with the police.

"You were born with a short fuse, Lisa. It becomes even shorter when you lose sleep."

"Sleep or no sleep, Mina crossed a line and I was so close to killing her just now."

"But you didn't because deep down you love your brother, despite how much you still want to hate him."

"So this isn't about my actions against Mina, it's about Bambam." I should have known.

"As much as I love your wives, my first priority will always be you and your brothers' happiness. Whatever this is with Mina will tear you both further apart. Bambam has waited years—"

"Mother, I don't care. If he wants to stand with me, a spot is open. But he needs to make sure his wife knows where she stands, and that needs to be far away from me. I no longer trust her."

"If you can't stand her now, as the wife of your brother, how will you stand her as daughter to your President? You're the ones elevating her status. Remember, Frankenstein was not the monster, but the doctor."

I hated when she did this. "You're going to drive me to smoke, Ma."

"Smoke? Not drink?" She laughed.

"Dad did that years ago."

Before she could reply, my phone went off; a blocked call trying to come in. Only one person had this number…Brooks.

"Manoban."

"Ma'am, I got your calls. I couldn't speak…"

"What's going on?"

"The FBI is drafting up a visa, all they need is for her to say the words. I think she has a son across the border."

"You think?" Why the fuck did everyone think and no one knew? "Brooks, step up and fix this. Find a way to let her know what will happen if she opens her mouth. Our public image will not be tarred by this, do you understand me?"

"I'm on it ma'am."

BEAU

Closing my phone, I looked up at all the badges in front of me. Most of them greeting me as they walked around.

"Way to go, Brooks."

"Brooks, working your way up."

"Congrats, Brooks."

All I could do was nod, take a deep breath, and ingest the scent of sweat and stale coffee, before repeating the same old line: "Just doin' my job." For years, I was nothing but a beat cop, and I never asked to be much more. My real job was to watch the streets. Now, word around the department was that I was on the shortlist to becoming a detective.

I needed to get to that maid as soon as possible, but the FBI had her on lockdown in the back of the precinct. They wanted their names on this since they couldn't get their tags on the President's wife. But collaring the Manobans was as close to first place as they came.

"You think it's true?" my partner asked. "If it is, we need to be on this case." He leaned against my desk.

"You're a pup, Scooter. Stop trying to bite off cases when you don't even have teeth," I told him, eyeing the water bottle on my desk. I had a plan, I just needed more time.

"They say the Manobans are the worst thing that happened to this city since Al Capone. That they murder men, women, and children, no problem. They move drugs in the mist; weed, cocaine, heroin. If it's illegal, they sell it and make millions all over the country, yet they're still…"

"That's because we have nothing!" I yelled, drawing attention towards us. "Has anyone ever spoken to a dealer that pointed a finger at a Manoban?"

"Everybody knows it's 'cause they're scared."

"Who is everybody? Is everybody going to testify at trial? There has never been any evidence to prove that the Manobans are anything but upstanding citizens of this city. We don't even have a parking ticket to pin on them. All I've ever heard were just rumors from one cop to another, told over a cold coffeepot. We got officers trying to make cases out of thin air to try and prove themselves. Prove that they could do what so many others had failed to do. Give me evidence and I'll slap the cuffs on 'em. But until then, save your ghost stories and 'drugs in the mist' for your playmates and get the hell out of my face."

He took a step back, biting his lips before placing his hat back on his blonde head. "Well, we got a maid, their maid."

"No, we got an illegal immigrant who feels jilted after being fired, and is now blackmailing the U.S. government for a visa."

"You know what Brooks? All of us are doing something. We're trying! We're trying to save our city. To bring it back from the mobsters and thugs, the Manobans. Why don't you start supporting the team?"

That stopped me. It took everything not to sock him in the face. "Support my team?" I laughed, pulling on my coat. "Kid, I've been here for seven years. I've been shot at, ran over and almost blown up. I work cases I can get arrests for. This ain't a game, boy. My coat says 'Chicago P.D.' not Team Cop. My badge says Officer Brooks. You want to prove your stripes? You want to see the Manobans go down, even though you have no clue who they are? Fine, whatever. Just meet me in interrogation in five minutes."

Grabbing a water bottle, I walked out of the pen.

"I ain't no rookie anymore," he yelled from behind me. What else could he say?

"Shut your pie-hole, kid and get us some coffee," someone behind me yelled, but I didn't bother to care or to look back.

You can always tell when the Feds were in town; they snatched any high profile case and made sure to slap their names in Big Bird yellow all over the joint. Walking down the hall, I did not meet anyone's gaze before entering the file room. I didn't have much time left. I was playing with a whole new type of fire here.

This water bottle was my only chance left.

The key to being a liar was that you had to believe your lies. It was as simple as that. Tell lies you can believe, and when you do, the world will believe them right along with you. So when I stepped into the hallway, I knew what I wanted to see. I knew the lie I would believe; the maid was a liar and I was going to make her admit it.

Everything felt sharp; my senses had never been so clear, and I was going play every single card I had. The FBI agents were all waiting, hoping they had something. Next to them was Scooter, who was just short of rubbing his hands together.

Staring at the tan skinned, dark haired woman praying at the table, I tried not to break character. "She said anything yet?"

She couldn't have been a day over thirty maybe?

"She won't talk until she sees a visa. It doesn't make sense though. She has a kid over the border. Why not ask for him to get a free pass? She wants a visa for herself instead?" Scooter asked.

"After she told us about the First Lady, she was all 'Hail Mary full of grace,' over and over. If I were Mary, I would be annoyed," the officer to my right scoffed before turning towards the two-way mirror. "This is a waste of time. They're questioning the First Lady right now. It's your collar you should go watch."

"I'll be over there in a minute. I just want to take a crack at her first."

"We," Scooter said, stepping up, "We want to take a crack at her."

"Knock yourselves out. Ask Mother Mary for a prayer for me." He laughed before walking off.

Step one; done.

"So, how are we going to go at her?" Scooter asked, trying to walk in, but I stopped him at the door.

"You're not a police officer, remember? You're a cheerleader. You can support the team from behind that glass."

Stepping inside, the first thing I heard were her prayers:

"Dios te salve, María, llena eres de gracia, el Señor es contigo…"

"Antoniodita tú eres entre todas las mujeres, y Antoniodito es el fruto de tu vientre, Jesús. Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén," I finished for her, putting the water bottle on the table before helping her into the chair.

"Mary mother of all mothers," I said pulling out my own chair. "My mother loved her too."

"Do you have my visa?" she asked in a thick accent.

"No."

"Then I have nothing for you."

"I don't think you ever had anything for me to begin with."

"I worked in that house! I saw things! I heard things!" she yelled at me.

"Have some water," I told her, sliding the water bottle over.

She pushed it back. "I'm fine, lo choto."

"Really? Because you've been in here a while and the last thing I want is for you be dehydrated. Plus, I hope you do a lot of talking," I stated, pushing the water back to her.

"No visa, no confesión," she repeated before bringing the bottle to her lips. The moment she looked down, she froze. Her dark eyes slowly read over the words written on the backs side of the label.

"Are you alright, Ms. Morales?"

She just stared at me, eyes wide, frozen solid.

"It's just water." I said, grabbing the bottle. "Not poison. You're safe here."

To prove my point, I grabbed the water and drank.

"The Manobans…." She whispered, hanging her head down low.

"Ms. Morales, I know this is scary. My partner, he reminded me of the accusations against the Manobans. How some say they killed men, women, and even children. How they have no regard for the law. How they would hunt down anyone who tried to stand in their way. If that is true, I cannot imagine what you must have gone through in that house. What you may have seen. We know about your son across the border."

She tensed, water pooling under her eyelids as her lips and arms trembled.

"My mother, she was an illegal, worked her whole life for people like the Manobans. She didn't care though. She just wanted her boys to get the greatest chance in life. She would do anything for the boys—for me. Even take on people like the Manobans. That's why you want a visa, right? So you could bring him over the right way. So he wouldn't be labeled an illegal immigrant. I want to help you, Ms. Morales, but you've got to be honest with me. You're the only one who can bring those murdering bastards down. We will protect you. I will personally protect you."

I made sure that she could read my eyes, and it made the tears roll down her cheeks. Wiping her nose, she nodded.

Sitting up straighter, she admitted, "I lied. I don't know anything. I just wanted my boy."

"You've got nothing on the Manobans?" I stated again, glaring into her eyes.

Again, she nodded.

"I have nothing on the Manobans. I just wanted to get back at them. They fired me for no reason, I have nothing, and they took it all away. They just have so much, you know? I just wanted something for my boy."

Shaking my head at her, I grabbed the water. "Hold tight, Ms. Morales. Hold tight."

"Please, don't deport me. Por favor! I'm the only one sending anything back. My son is still young. Just like your mama, I just wanted to give him the best, get myself a good job. I need your help, please! I need the visa."

There was nothing more I could say to her, so I simply walked out. Scooter stood glaring at the woman, who had returned to praying, through the two-way mirror.

"Damn it. She's got to know something. I can feel it. We need to get her to talk. We should charge her; obstruction of justice, filing a false report…"

"Yes, Scooter let's charge the only eye witness we have to the First Lady's deception, because she didn't tell us what we were hoping to hear," I snapped. "If you keep jumping head first into everything, your brain will be splattered all over the sidewalk soon enough."

It was only after I had gotten out of the precinct that I dared to rip the paper off the water bottle. In English it translated to three simple sentences:

Your son made it home from school safely today. Your words right now will determine if he makes it through the night. Do not make us do this.

Pulling out my other phone, I dialed, waiting to be directed.

"Welcome to Jennie's Flowers…"

"Two dozen of Autumn crocus for the Boss."

"Please hold."

It took only a second before I heard her voice.

"Manoban."

"It's done. She recanted."

"Good work. Sit on her, make sure she doesn't try again."

"Done."

JENNIE

"It's been handled," Lisa stated, finally bringing her sorry ass into the room. She'd left hours ago with my damn cell phone.

"Well, aren't you feeling yourself," I sneered, not bothering to look at her as I stepped into my shoes. Adriana waited with my jacket.

"Are you still hungry?"

I was prepared to beat the shit out of her, but it looked like someone had already started. "What the fuck happened to your face and hand?"

"Mina." She sighed, stepping over to me.

"Does she look worse?"

"She feels worse."

"I don't care how she feels, Lisa."

"I'll get the car," Adriana stated as she took her exit.

She pulled me closer to her and kissed my lips so hard I could feel the cut on the inside of her cheek and I could taste her blood.

Knock.

"Come back later," Lisa yelled.

But they didn't listen. The door snapped open and a person I used to know as Nickhun stumbled in with the same white clothes, now covered in dirt, messy hair and bags under his red eyes.

"Jesus Christ, Nickhun." Lisa released me, walking to her just as Nickhun fell to his knees sobbing.

"Nickhun…"

"Victoria has ovarian cancer. She won't speak to me. She won't even move. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fight this. I don't want to lose her…I…"

"Breathe, brother. Just breathe," Lisa whispered, as she knelt down to hold onto him.

Walking behind them both, I closed the door. This was personal. This was family, and no one else needed to see this.

Lisa looked up at me as her brother, not cousin here, they were much closer then that. Nickhun just sobbed in her arms. Her eyes asked me a question with an answer I hated: How do we fight cancer?

I knew all too well that sometimes you couldn't. Cancer was a bitch that didn't know when to die. Placing my hand on Nickhun's head, I stood there. I wasn't sure what else to do. Why was this all happening now? Why couldn't we just deal with one fucking problem at a time?

Because this was real life.