Spencer : Blackout

Ugh. I hate Mondays.

It was actually Wednesday, but every weekday felt like a Monday to me. I glanced over at my alarm clock. 7:30AM. Shit!. I was going to be late for work, again. I've been up until morning hours this entire week, texting Ashley until she'd finished studying and went to bed. Thereafter I'd stay up and reread all our messages, smiling, blushing, and some more blushing, until I would finally fall asleep.

I couldn't wait for her midterms to finish. And I couldn't wait for Friday to come. I had gone all out with planning our date. Starting at a little Italian restaurant off in Main Street, not too far from my loft, then dessert at a small ice cream parlor not far from Dad's shop. And thereafter, I'd decided, to treat her to some go-kart racing. Yeah, I know, cliché. But she really seemed to enjoy the stories I told them that Sunday about my kart racing days, and teaching boys to race. I thought I'd just let her in about one true aspect of my life. The rest was pretty much all lies.

I felt very uncomfortable lying to Ashley. In fact, going on a date with someone I was investigating was already terms for a disciplinary hearing. But I could throw it out there as part of my job. I just wasn't sure how terrible of a person I wanted to become to actually go through with this.

I glanced at my phone, forgetting all about worrying about lies and being a good person.

06:20 – Ashley : Can't keep you off my mind. Have a great day xoxo

I couldn't help but smile, and hit the reply button.

07:32 – Spencer : Ashley Davies, are you a) available b) ready for our date c) excited d) all of the above? Choose wisely, both here and with your midterm. Good luck today, thinking of you xxx

Ashley was special. There was something different about her. Something screamed to me that she shouldn't have been locked up for those two years that she spent in prison – there was an untold story there, and I was going to find out what it was. I just really hoped that I could find something, anything, to steer our investigation away from the Davies with regards to the hijackings. I was starting to believe that they were not involved, and to be honest, I would be really happy if they weren't. Which meant that I had to work a little harder to get more intel.

I jumped out of bed and took a quick shower, my eye constantly on the alarm clock. I had to be at Dad's shop by 8AM; I had to debrief with him where we were standing and possible updates that could affect him. I wished he didn't have to be involved. We were dealing with dangerous people and I would never forgive myself if my father had to get hurt because of my job. Gotta suck it up, Spencer.

"You're late."

I glanced at my watch. It was 8:02AM. Really? Hurrying towards Sergeant Lewis and my dad, I flashed an apologetic smile. "Sorry guys, traffic." I kissed my dad on the cheek and took the coffee Chelsea held out to me.

They exchanged knowing looks.

"Oh come on, it's two minutes!"

"Officer Carlin," Chelsea addressed me, and I knew when she did that, there wasn't really an excuse. I shouldn't have been late.

My dad chuckled, but then cleared his throat and turned serious. This was serious business after all.

"Right, let's start," Chelsea announced, leaning against a glass counter. She glanced at my dad. "Arthur, have you picked up anything on your side? Any purchases standing out, Honda Civic-specific parts? Any red flags?"

Arthur shook his head. "None whatsoever. Remember that there is an upcoming Desert Quarter Mile event, which could mean one of two things; either there could be a bust still ahead of that for a cash injection to buy last minute parts for the race, or, a bust afterwards after winning some race money to improve the Civics."

Chelsea nodded slowly. "Interesting theory. When exactly is this event?"

I spoke up. "It starts on Sunday. That's why we're building up the Supra, I will be participating."

I felt my dad's concerned glare, but refused to meet his eyes.

Chelsea was oblivious to our silent conversation, and continued. "Okay, so basically what we're looking at is a potential jacking in the next couple of days, otherwise afterwards. It's good; we can start working with shipping companies and retailers to get a feel for their logistics schedules one week ahead. It's an enormous task, and frankly, almost too many trucks and routes to cover with patrol vehicles for a week, but until we get more intel, I think that's what we will start working towards."

My personal thought was that it was impossible to do that, but Chelsea was right, we still didn't have any other solid information. I really had to start digging deeper.

"Spencer, you need to try and get more intel on the Davies' sisters. We'll get a list of all their properties that they own, I'll need you to go check them out and see if you can find those cars. They must belong to someone."

I nodded, accepting my Sergeant's orders.

This shit just got serious.

"Spencer, isn't it?"

I looked up, the familiar voice reminding me of the nauseating kiss I received on my hand. "Hey Glen! How are you?" And how's the Eminem wardrobe working out for you?

"I'm good, I'm good. How are you doing, gorgeous? Nice second place the other night, you had me surprised there, girl!"

I smiled smugly. I knew they all thought I was going to come in last, or total the engine or my car. "Beginner's luck, I guess."

"Nah, I doubt that. You were a natural. So, I need to place an order for some parts – do I need to speak to Arthur or can I speak to you?"

I straightened up behind the counter and grabbed the keyboard and mouse. "Tell me what you need and I'll hook you right up."

Glen reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I made a list, I need three of everything on here." He pushed it towards me.

I started entering the manufacturer number supplied on the list, and was temporary taken aback when I realized Glen was here to buy parts for Honda Civics. Three of them. "By when do you need the stuff by?"

"Now? Today?"

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." I entered all the items into the stock system to see what we had available.

My heart pounded loud in my ears, and I tried to conceal my excitement by busying myself with the parts order. This has got to be it. Oh, man, this has got to be it!

Now this is the exciting part.

I switched off the headlights as I drove into the back street of Glen's garage. They were having a huge party on the street corner, so I figured it was quite safe for me to go and check out what they had hidden. Or more specifically, where the Civics were hidden.

I parked the pickup out of sight, and glanced up at the tall building. The only way for me to get in was to go through the roof. Thank goodness there was a fire escape ladder attached to the side of the wall.

I knew as a cop I was supposed to be able to be all Spiderman and stealthily make my way in there, but this was real life. I still needed some form of aid to climb walls. I just wished it was safe enough for me to bring along my gun, but there was too much of a risk of blowing my cover. So I was armed with a torch and my fake ID. Wow, who'd thought I'd need one of those after I hit 21?

I quietly scaled the fire escape, and sighed in relief when I spotted the skylight. One of the windows were already broken, making things just a tad little bit easier for me. All the lights were off inside, automatically clearing the premises of any people after hours.

I lowered myself through the window and landed on the floor with a soft thud. On my feet. Go Carlin! The garage was fairly wide, but not too big, which was a relief. It would be easy for me to identify any immediate danger.

I tiptoed around, flashlight facing forward, and finally found my prized possessions. Three black Honda Civics, on hydraulic lifts, waiting for its parts. Jackpot! I started noting details of the cars, looking for tell-tale items that the truckers have spotted during their hijacking incidents. My heart slowly started sinking as I couldn't find any under carriage neon lighting, and neither was the tires the same as Chelsea had mentioned. This would have been the bust of the century.

Unfortunately for me, Mr. Slim Shady's twin was off the hook, for now…

Getting back out was a lot more difficult than just jumping through the skylight. I had to climb onto things like I used to when jungle gyms were parents' worst nightmares. I was sure I was pulling some unused muscles as I jumped and grabbed and swung around, finally clutching onto the frame of the window in the roof. Of course, all the exercise I'd just done was no match to the inevitable pull-up I had to do to get myself back onto the roof. Now don't get me wrong, I did well at the Academy, and still went to the gym every day before going in to work – until I started this undercover gig. So I was fit, and my body was in good shape. But it didn't mean it was as easy as doing things at the gym where beams and bars were softly padded. Here I had to deal with broken glass cutting into my hands while trying to pull my own body weight out onto a roof. Through a window. With a flashlight gagging me, and a mind plagued by images of a particular brunette's very sexy abs – abs that she definitely didn't get by doing pull-ups through broken skylights.

My arms felt like jelly by the time I slid down the fire escape. You definitely have to get back to the gym, Carlin. I tiptoed around the back of the garage to make my way to the pickup. I hoped it was still there. You never know these days…

Regaining energy as I straightened up, I was now fine to make a quick escape out of this industrial area. It was starting to freak me out. The pickup was around that corner, I thi –

Thump!

Everything around me went blank.