Summary: Chloe Price's world has been turned upside down. Her long-term girlfriend missing, interrogated by the police as a suspect... Could it possibly get any worse?
Chapter Two: Break-in
Chloe's POV
After getting interrogated by Detective Caulfield, who under different circumstances I would've flirted with relentlessly, I left the police station and made my way to a nearby diner/bar to drown my sorrows. I had been here a few times with Rachel before, the first time I'd returned in months.
When I entered inside, the place was pretty empty. It was still early, so it made sense. Most people were either at work or still in bed if they had the opportunity. One or two were already drinking, and I was about to join them. As I sat down at the bar, I recognized the short, chubby girl with short purple hair, brown eyes, and tats.
"Bernie, you're still working here?" I asked, not all that surprised.
This chick had been working at this place for years, ever since she was old enough to. She was a little younger than me, in her mid-twenties. Originally, she came from Oregon but moved to Seattle with her family when she was ten years old. Often, she joked that she would live and die in this dive. With the hours she worked, that might not be an over-exaggeration. She worked hard but made sure to play just as hard. In fact, I wasn't entirely sure that she slept ever.
The short girl beamed at me. "Until I earn my fortunes as a scratch card winner, yup. Or this place gets bought out, whichever comes first. Shit, Chloe. Haven't seen you in here for ages. I was starting to miss that sarcastic wit and relentless flirting." Her expression suddenly turned serious. "Hey, I, uh… heard about Rach. That why you in here?"
Having expected it, I nodded solemnly. "Yeah, just came from an interview. Guess somebody mentioned me and, since I was a secret until now, they felt the need to lay down the interrogation."
Bernie sighed, looking genuinely sad. It made sense, she and Rachel got on really well. "Ah, shit. I'm sorry, man. I hope they find her soon."
"Yeah, well… me too," I managed, trying to keep my voice steady.
There was a moment of silence before she shook her head. "Anyway, I'm sure you didn't come here for that. The usual?"
I stayed there for a while aka. as long as I could, nursing the two beers I could afford right now – and an extra one courtesy of Bernie as consolation – before heading back to my empty apartment. There were fewer people than earlier clogging up the streets on the way back, still busy enough. Honestly, I paid little attention to them. In my mind, I was somewhere else. A few months back, when things were going well for me…
My body shivered as her practiced hands and mouth got to work, knowing all the sweet spots. She took great delight in teasing me, making me beg to be released from limbo. Coiling warmth ran through me, instincts kicking in as my hands grabbed at anything they could find, back arching of its own accord. A moan escaped my throat, accompanied by half-finished pleas. It was both too much and not enough. When she finally granted my wish, she silenced me with a kiss, holding me tight in the aftermath. Her warm breath caressed my marked skin – a mixture of bruises, teeth marks, and lipstick.
"I really put you through your paces today, huh?" Her voice was intoxicating, addictive like a drug.
"You… always do," I mentioned through breaths, head resting back against the pillow.
She had the broadest smirk on her face, pleased with her ability to get me into such a state. Even after all this time, I wondered what she saw in me. With her ever increasing status and popularity, she could have pretty much anyone she wanted now, could've before too, and yet… she'd chosen to stick with me. I never asked, too scared to find out the answer. It would never live up to my imagined reasons. Reality rarely did.
Our relationship had been… complicated. We'd agreed to keep it open, so long as we were transparent about it and came back to one another at the end of the day, which we always did. Honestly, I had been skeptical at first, crazy jealous. After agreeing, I realized it was probably the best thing for both of us. Most of our encounters ended up being shared anyway, Rachel mostly bringing over cute women for us to play with. It kept things interesting.
"Only because you like it," she chuckled flirtatiously, pulling me in for another kiss, one I was more than happy to accept.
Whatever the reason she stayed with me, that was enough. As curious as I was, I didn't need to know… or so I kept telling myself.
Before I knew it, I was back on my street at the door leading into my apartment building. The place was still a shithole, even more so after all these years, but memories were worth more than looks. Sighing, I fumbled around for my key and entered the foyer, checking my mail quickly. Nothing but junk mail and bills… what was I expecting?
Walking up the stairs – the elevator was broken – I reached the third floor, Room 3… aka, mine and Rachel's apartment. She could easily afford a nicer place, but this was where we met, back when she was still struggling to rub two pennies together. That's where it had all started. The tattoos she had, I'd done them for her being a bona fide tattoo artist and piercing specialist – my main source of income. I also did odd jobs on the side, anything that paid and I could do. Once Rachel was earning the big bucks, money didn't matter so much.
When I reached my apartment door, I froze finding it ajar. I'd definitely locked it before coming. Cautious, I peered inside, eyes widening at the state it was in. It had always been a bit of a mess, but this… Somebody had thoroughly ransacked this place. Not sure what to do, I just stood there, staring. Who had done this? And why? Was it related to Rachel's disappearance?
On instinct, I found myself reaching for my phone and the card I'd been given earlier. In a reflex action, my fingers dialed the number and held the phone to my ear. It rang for a moment, finally being answered.
"This is Detective Caulfield," the vaguely familiar voice replied.
"Um, this is Chloe Price. You interviewed me earlier about Rachel Amber." Extra reminders never hurt. I had no idea what she'd done the rest of the day; her brain was probably fried from paperwork.
"Ah, Ms. Price," she repeated, a hint of recognition in her tone. "How can I help?"
"I… just got back to my apartment and… it's been trashed," I explained, keeping it short and sweet.
There was a split second of silence before she replied. "I'll be right over. Where do you live?" After giving her my address, she spoke again. "Stay on the line until I get there, okay."
"Y-yeah, sure. I will." In the background, I could hear shuffling and breathing, a car starting up as the call was shifted to loudspeaker.
"You still there?" she asked, a flicker of worry in her question.
"Yes, I am. I can't hear anything inside, so I guess they've probably left by now." I peeked inside again, not seeing any sign of life.
There was silence for a time before I got a response, clearly deep in thought. "Maybe, but it's best not to assume anything. Do not go inside."
About fifteen minutes later, a car screeched into the parking lot outside. I moved over to the window in the hallway, not recognizing the dark vehicle. I watched Detective Caulfield step out of the driver's side, walking up to the door.
Her voice came from the other end of the line again. "I'm here."
Not wasting time, I made my way down the stairs. "I can see. I'll come let you up."
When I got to the first floor, I opened the door. There she was, clothes much more casual than the dark suit she had been in before – sweat pants and a basic shirt with a hoodie.
She noticed me staring at her attire, rubbing the back of her neck. "Sorry for the lack of decorum. I rushed over here. It's normally a half hour drive on a good day."
That information made my eyes almost bulge out of my skull. She must've really floored it."Don't sweat it. Honestly, I'd be more pissed if you took your time picking out an outfit. Thanks for getting here so quickly."
She nodded, letting me lead her upstairs. When we got to my apartment, she quickly put covers on her shoes and glove. Pulling out a pistol holstered on her thigh, she pointed it at the door as she slowly pushed it open. Sweeping each room thoroughly, she checked the whole apartment and the hallway before relaxing.
Re-sheathing her gun, she turned to me for a brief moment. "Coast's clear," she asserted, going into full on search mode for clues. Pulling another pair of gloves and shoe covers from her pockets, passing them my way, she examined the crime scene.
"Wow, you are prepared," I managed, amazed.
"For my work, yes. Everything else… not so much," she replied, not looking at me as she continued her search. After some time, she turned her attention to me. "Hmm… has anything been stolen?"
"I… don't think so. TV's still there, laptop too, although if anyone wants that piece of junk, they're welcome to it." Using one of the gloves she'd given me, I rifled through one of the open draws, taking out a sock to find a small wad of money rolled up inside. "My emergency cash stash's here too."
"So, probably not a conventional robbery then…" Her blue eyes moved to the rug in the bedroom, the corner of which was slightly scrunched up. She crouched down, lifting it up to reveal a loose floorboard.
I frowned as I watched her prise it up with a switchblade. "I… didn't even know that was there."
"Seems that someone found it, and I guess they got what they were looking for," Detective Caulfield muttered to herself, taking a small black notebook out of her back pocket and writing something down. Then, she took out her phone to photograph the evidence.
"So, what now?" I prompted, not sure what I was going to do next.
"Well, you can't stay here. This is a crime scene and it's not safe. Anywhere else you could crash for a while?" When I shook my head, she seemed to be considering something.
Taking her phone, she led me out of the apartment and made a call. "Chief, it's me. No, we have a problem. Rachel Amber's apartment has been trashed and someone's taken something." A slight pause. "Yes, Ms. Price is here." She gave me an uncertain glance. "No, she doesn't have anywhere to go. She can't stay here." Listening for a while, her expression turned resolute. "I understand, sir."
"So?" I pressed, eager to find out what was going to happen.
Detective Caulfield pocketed her phone again, turning to me. "For the time being, you'll be living in a witness protection flat. You may be in danger, so best to cover all bases. Anything you need desperately? The less we interfere, the better. We can provide you with the necessities."
Surprised by the suggestion, I slowly nodded. "Uh, just my money and… a photo."
She let me gather my things – the most important being an old photo of me and Rach, now in a cracked frame – leading me back out to her car as the core forensic team arrived. She gave them a solemn nod, a girl with dark red-streaked hair wearing white coveralls approaching us. "Max, what happened? The Chief marked this as urgent."
Detective Caulfield, or Max as I had just found out her first name was, glanced over at me before turning back to the woman. "It's all connected to the Rachel Amber case, Brooke."
"Ah, that explains it all. Usually only gets flagged 'urgent' if it's a mass murder or political shitshow." Her dark eyes turned to me, curious. "And… is this a witness?"
"Kind of, yes. She found the door busted open," Max clarified, giving me a reassuring nod. She and Brooke moved out of earshot, discussing a few things about the case in a hushed tone before we finally headed over to her car. "What a day, huh? Oh, you can call me Max, by the way. Less of a mouthful than 'Detective Caulfield'."
I got in the passenger's side, still a little shaken up. "Yeah, just use Chloe for me, too."
The journey back was fairly quiet, just a few spatterings of small talk here and there. Honestly, I wasn't in the mood for a conversation. In less than a week, my long-term girlfriend had disappeared without a trace, I'd been interrogated by the police and my apartment trashed.
Eventually, Max pulled into a parking lot outside a small apartment complex much like my own. We got out, climbing the stairs. When we reached the right floor, she led me into a tiny apartment. A musty smell lingered on the air, lessened when she cracked open a window.
"Nobody's been in here for a while so… doesn't get aerated much," she explained sheepishly. "While you live here, if you need anything just let me know. How are you for money?"
Thinking it over, I shrugged. "Well, I have access to mine and Rach's joint account. Although, I don't know what they'll do with it now she's missing."
"We'll make sure they keep it open. If money ever does become a problem, just say and we can figure something out." It was then that my stomach decided to let out a huge protesting grumble, timely as always. One of Max's eyebrows raised in mild amusement. "Guess takeout is in order, huh? Right, so…"
As she turned to leave, I felt an overwhelming urge to stop her leaving. "Wait…"
Pausing, she glanced back over her shoulder at me. "Yeah?"
One thing was for sure, I didn't want to be alone right now. "Would you… stay for a while. I… I'd like some company for a bit."
Turning around fully, she nodded. "Yeah, sure. I can stay for a bit. I was just gonna go get you a couple things, actually. Wasn't about to leave you quite yet."
"Oh, uh… thanks." I felt a little embarrassed for jumping the gun. "I'll, um, order shit while you do that, then." Fumbling around in my pocket, I handed her some cash. "Here." Looking like she was about to decline, I pushed it closer towards her. "Please, I don't want to put you out of pocket when I have this lying around."
Sighing, she accepted the money and headed out. While she did that, I whipped out my phone and ordered some pizza. She came back before it came, plates and beer in hand along with a bag full of essentials – shower gel and shampoo, towels, toothbrush, bed stuff, food for tomorrow, so on so forth. Out of every way I had figured I'd end my day, this was not one of them.
When the delivery came, she went down to get it and I grabbed a couple of newly acquired beers. We dug into the pizza – which was pretty good I might add, loaded with cheese, vegetables, and meat – watching the TV to fill the silence. I watched Max lick her fingers clean, finishing off her second slice. She sank back into the couch, sighing as she took a swig of her beer.
"Rough day?" I asked sympathetically, grabbing my fourth slice.
She shrugged, passing me a sideways glance. "Always is. Today was… interesting. You made sure of that. Not a bad thing, I guess."
"Well, sounds more exciting than my day. I spent most of my day in a bar, so…" I admitted, feeling a little ashamed.
Max shrugged, not seeming to judge. "Can't blame you, I guess."
I wondered if it was really fine for her to be hanging out with me right now. "Are you… sure it's okay for you to be here? Like, don't you have anyone to get back to?"
Letting out a soft laugh, she shook her head. "Nope, I live on my own. Have done ever since moving out of my parent's house. Well, guess that's not totally true. There is Lisa."
"Lisa?" I asked curiously.
"My plant," she explained. "Somehow, she survived my neglectful behavior as a teenager. Surprising, really. I take much better care of her now, so no need to call plant protective services against me."
"You know, I never expected a badass detective to be a total dork." Unable to help myself now I was pumped full of alcohol, I allowed myself a slight smirk. "And a cutie, too."
"Ha, I don't know if I'd go that far…" she replied, looking a little flustered.
"Hmm, I would." It might seem like an odd time to flirt, but I needed a distraction. And Max was pretty hot, honestly.
This close, I noticed a few scars on her face. The most visible ones were on her right eyebrow, another on her top lip, a long one on her left cheek and the last running horizontally along her neck. Wincing slightly, I wondered where they had come from. Probably on the job. Another shocking discovery, the tip section of her left ring finger was missing alongside a scar suspiciously shaped like a jagged 'J' on the back of her palm. Something I had been too distracted to notice earlier.
Before I had the chance to press, she shuffled off the couch to her feet. "I, uh, have a few things to take care of now, so… I'll be heading back."
"Oh, y-yeah, sure," I stuttered, clearing my throat. "Thanks for hanging around."
She offered me a genuine smile, one that suggested a much softer personality under the hard, rugged exterior. "No worries. It was… good to talk to someone for a while."
"I hear that," I agreed as I walked her over to the door.
When she entered the hallway, I was expecting her to turn towards the stairs. Instead, she walked up to the door directly opposite and took out a key, shoving it in the lock. The door now open, she turned to me with a small smile at my dumbfounded expression. "Oh yeah, guess I forgot to mention, I live across the hall."
Is there a reason for Max living so close by? Find out next time.