I was at one of my best friend's place this weekend so I didn't have access to a computer - but now I'm home and can post! :)

Really excited to post this one - things from here will be ramping up!

Chapter 4

Saturday, 1.21 PM

"Okay, let me get this straight." Matt sat back in his chair, looking between Keith, Lance and Pidge. "You think a hacker stole a bunch of peoples' data, sold it to Sendak… and then hired Haggar to kill him to cover their tracks?"

"Yup." Hands in his pockets, Lance leaned back against the crime lab wall. "That's the working theory, anyway."

"So you're heading to Venice Beach." Pidge rested their elbows on the table, pursing their lips. "Not to be that person, but what exactly are you gonna do? Put up missing posters?"

Matt smiled. "'Lost murderer: Haggar. Female; light hair; absolutely nuts. If you've seen her, call the number on the attached paper strips.'"

"Sure. Why don't we check the local dog shelters while we're at it?"

For a suffocating moment everyone simply stared at Keith like he'd grown a second head. Then Pidge snorted.

"Wait. That was a joke?" Lance almost sounded impressed. "I didn't know you knew how, Mullet."

Crossing his arms, Keith did his best to ignore the headache that had been building all morning since he pulled himself out of sleep. If seven hours of restlessness and bad dreams could qualify as sleep. "Don't call me that."

"What if I came with you?" Pidge said. Compared to him, both them and Matt looked obnoxiously awake, as if they pulled all-nighters all the time. "It'd save you from running around on the beach like headless chickens."

"... You've got a point," Lance conceded.

"Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea, Mx. Holt." Turning around, Keith watched Coran push the office door open with his foot, a tray of dangerously sloshing coffee cups in his hands. "Top of the afternoon, everyone," he added in passing as Lance raced forward to stop the looming disaster, before continuing, "You know what they say: like attracts like. Or is it like dissolves like? I can never remember which. Oh, that reminds me, have either of you heard anything from Allura lately?"

"No, not really. Why?"

As Coran pulled Lance and Pidge into conversation Matt leaned over towards Keith. "He's referencing the rebel hacker phase Pidge had in their teens," he said with a conspiratory nod towards Coran. "That's why he never uses his computer, you know."

By now Keith was up to speed enough to know half of everything out of Matt's mouth was a joke, but as he watched Coran shuffle away his myriad of folders to clear a spot for his coffee he still wondered why didn't he use it? Wouldn't storing files on the computer be so much easier?

He shook his head. Why was he thinking about this? After the case was done he'd never see these people again, so whatever habits and quirks they had didn't matter. They didn't matter.

"By the way, Mr. Kogane," Coran said, pulling his focus again, "I telephoned your district office yesterday. They didn't have much more to say about Haggar's escape than the media, but they did tell me the report is in production. Maybe we will get it in a day or two."

That wasn't likely, considering Keith was supposed to write it… and he wasn't touching it until Haggar was back behind bars.

He still forced a nod in response. "Maybe."

For a second he could've sworn he saw something flicker through Coran's eyes, but he didn't get a chance to think about it before the door opened again: this time to reveal Captain Holt.

"Good to see everyone here. What's the status on the Haggar case?" he asked.

"It's going. Thought we'd take a break and head to the beach." At Captain Holt's unimpressed eyebrow raise Lance smiled. "Nah, we're heading out to follow a lead on a hacker. It just happened to lead to the beach. Also," he gestured towards Pidge over his shoulder, "we're bringing the expert. They'll keep us in line."

"Yes, I'll be careful, dad," Pidge assured at Captain Holt's look, switching their computer off and standing up. "Matt, I sent over the stuff I have so far."

"Great. Then we could do a runthrough, if you'd like?"

"In a minute," Captain Holt said… before shifting his focus over to Keith, his demeanor shifting with it. "Marshal Kogane, a word?"

Keith kept his face carefully blank as he nodded, but wariness coiled inside him as he followed the Captain out into the hallway, ignoring Lance's gaze burning against the back of his head.

Because this could only be about one thing.

'You're too close to this case, Marshal. It'll cloud your judgment and you will get yourself killed.'

But he had persuaded his new Chief Deputy eventually. He could do it now too.

"So." Captain Holt closed the crime lab door behind them. "Want to explain to me what happened with Mr. Iverson yesterday? More specifically why his attorney has been blowing up my phone all morning, claiming you pushed him into a fountain?"

A part of him let out an internal sigh of relief. The other however, "His attor– Are you kidding me? He was the one not cooperating!"

"Whether he was cooperating or not doesn't matter right now. What matters is he's threatening us with a lawsuit." Sighing, the Captain spread his hands. "I need to think about the whole department here. You understand that, right? And your actions yesterday have created a lot of trouble for us."

And if you keep doing it, I have to take you off the case.

Captain Holt may not have said the words, but Keith heard the implication loud and clear. And he couldn't– wouldn't lose this case. He'd promised himself to hunt Haggar down if it was the last thing he did.

He'd promised Shiro.

Taking a deep breath, Keith met Captain Holt's gaze. "I understand. And I'm sorry for hurting the department." The next words tasted bitter. "Pass along my apology to Mr. Iverson too."

By the way he looked at him, the Captain knew how much effort it had taken for him to swallow his pride. But all he said was, "Good. I will."

Keith nodded, hand seeking out the badge in his pocket. See? he mentally told his Chief Deputy. I can keep myself in check.

So what if he was too close? So what if it meant he'd take a few risks? All that gave him was a reason and a means to find Haggar faster.

:::

1.53 PM

L.A. traffic, on the other hand, seemed to have no plans on going fast.

"See, this," Pidge leaned forward from the backseat, gesturing to the cars clogging up the road as far as the eye could see, "is why I became a crime data analyst instead of a field agent."

"Not because you're a gremlin who can't stand sunlight?" Lance let out a half-hearted "Ow" as Pidge punched his arm.

Keith leaned back in his seat, his already thin patience wearing thinner by the second, pulsing to the beat of his headache. It was like he could physically feel Haggar getting further and further from his grasp. "If I had my motorbike," he grumbled, "we'd already be there."

"Ugh, of course you ride a motorbike." Rolling his eyes, Lance drummed out a beat on the steering wheel. "Well, you gotta suck it up like the rest of us, Mullet. It's not like we can make the traffic disappear." He nodded towards the stereo set-up. "In the meantime, 90s hip-hop anyone?"

Pidge rested their elbows on top of the front seats. "You know… we could use the police siren. This is an undercover cop car, right?"

"Well, yeah… but it's only for emergency use. Unfortunately."

"Lance. This is an emergency."

"I know. And it would be awesome…" Lance met Pidge's eyes in the rearview mirror. "If Captain Holt finds out, you have to talk to him."

"Me? You're the cop here!"

"Yeah, but you're his child! One look from those puppy dog eyes of yours and he'll forget the whole thing!"

"Call me a puppy again and I will bite you."

"See, that's exactly what a pup–"

Fuck it.

Keith slammed his hand down on the button on the dashboard and the siren wailed through the air. Cars immediately started to move out of the way, laying the road ahead free. Not that it mattered, as the other two were too busy staring at him to notice – Pidge with a grin that could only be described as trouble and Lance… like he was seeing him for the first time.

His thoughts went to Captain Holt. It didn't count as causing trouble if everyone was in on it, right?

No. No, it didn't.

Keith threw a hand out towards the open road. "What're you waiting for?"

Blinking himself into focus, Lance turned away to shift the car into gear, but not before Keith caught the small, incredulous smile on his face.

The beach was nothing like Keith had expected. Mainly because you couldn't see the beach because of all the people; calling after their children running about in the sand, barreling past on roller blades and bikes on the sidewalk, yelling to attract customers from make-shift vendor shops…

From the way Lance watched the crowd, completely at ease, he enjoyed the chaos a lot more than Keith. "Okay, doesn't exactly look like Hacker Central, but," he pointed through the throng of people to a little store front further down the boardwalk, "we could check out the internet café. If phone hacks are going around, they've probably heard something. Or we could talk to some of the locals."

"What, so you can flirt with even more people?"

Maybe it was the overwhelming feeling of the crowd that warped his tone, or the way the bright sun made Keith's head throb. Whatever it was, the sarcasm didn't come through and Lance's face immediately clouded over.

"Okay, first of all: just because I like flirting doesn't mean I wanna do it with everyone."

Keith brought a hand up to massage his temple. "I didn't–"

"And second, I can totally investigate people in other ways. It's called being nuanced."

"Lance–"

This time it was Pidge cutting him off, waving their phone in their faces. "Hey, does this wi-fi network show up for you guys?"

Sending one last look towards Lance, Keith sighed and pulled out his phone. Lance was quicker though.

"Yeah." He shaded the screen with one hand as he showed Pidge. "Seems to be free, too."

"Exactly. And from what I can tell, it stretches the entire boardwalk. Probably most of the beach too." Their expression was smug as they adjusted their glasses. "And since people forget basic-ass internet safety because 'Ooh, free Wi-fi!', I betcha anything that's how the hacker's getting into people's phones."

His smile back, Lance shoved their shoulder in that teasing, familiar way only good friends can. Keith looked away. "Knew it was smart to bring you, Pidgey."

"Who runs the network?" Keith asked.

They scrolled down on the phone screen. "Some company called Beta Traz?"

"And where's that?"

"Don't know. Doesn't say."

"Okay..." Looking around briefly, Lance walked over to a group of twenty-somethings setting up for a game of volleyball. "Hey, can I bother you guys for a second?"

:::

2.29 PM

"This must be it."

Keith scanned the apartment complex over, taking in the whitewashed walls and simple-framed windows. Wasn't Beta Traz supposed to be a company? After everything else he'd seen in L.A. so far, he'd expected something more… flashy.

"Let's see… Yeah, look!" Lance pointed at the name, printed among others above the door's call box. "Fourth floor. Boom."

There was something about the way he said it – chin raised slightly, mouth drawn to a stubborn line – that made Keith pause. Because if he knew anything about Lance by now, it was that his bragging was a full-on show, theatrical hand gestures and all.

So what was this about?

Keith opened his mouth to answer, but Pidge was already pushing the call button. Not even a second later it went through.

"Beta Traz HQ. Who is it?"

"Hi, the name's–" And there that look was again, except this time aimed right at Keith. "I'm Lance. Me and my colleagues had some questions about the company. You got a minute?"

A moment of silence.

"Okay, yeah, sure. Hang on, I'll buzz you in."

A bumpy elevator ride later, Keith still didn't know what Lance's problem was, only it clearly had something to do with him. And it frustrated the hell out of him how much it actually frustrated him. Why couldn't he just stay focused today?

He really did try as the three of them knocked on a door at the far end of a corridor, just as leached of color as the building's exterior, but as Lance took the lead on introducing them – even and straightforward and entirely un-Lance-like – it clicked.

This was about his flirting comment on the beach. It had to be. Because since then Lance hadn't tried to flirt once… like he was trying to prove a point.

… For fuck's sake.

"Oh, you're police. Okay," the person in the doorway said – tied-back blonde hair, tall and dressed in a blue tank top – a wrinkle appearing between their eyebrows. "Well, I'm Nyma. How can I help?"

Lance sent a friendly smile, but even that seemed dialed down. "We just wanted to know more about the free Wi-Fi you've set up along the boardwalk?"

Goddammit, if Keith had known Lance would take it like this he wouldn't have attempted the joke. He wouldn't have said anything at all.

"What about it?" Nyma asked.

"Someone's using it to hack people," Pidge said.

"What?"

Lance nudged Pidge hard in the side. "Well, we don't know that for sure, but we're looking into the possibility."

"That's terrible. I…" Frowning, Nyma shrugged. "You'll have to ask my brother about that; he's the one who runs the whole thing. I just help out with the paperwork sometimes to sell the 'she's such a good sister' act." She smiled a little and pointed towards the elevator. "He's up on the roof terrace right now, but I'm sure he won't mind. Especially since hacking's pretty serious stuff."

"Okay, great." Lance shook her hand again. "Thanks for the help."

Muttering his thanks too, Keith followed the other two back down the hall. He caught Lance by the shoulder as the elevator doors closed behind them.

"You proved your point, alright?" he said. "You're nuanced or whatever."

Keith's hand fell as Lance stepped over to push the button for the top floor. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You proved your point," Keith said again, words coming out shorter. "You can investigate people without flirting. You didn't have to, but you did. So can you please let it go now?"

This time Lance met his gaze, throwing his arms out. "Me? You're the one who keeps bringing it up – you're the one who can't let it go!"

"Says the guy who–"

"Oh my gosh, can you guys stop arguing for five fucking seconds?" Stepping out of the elevator, Pidge took off their glasses to clean them with a corner of their shirt. The other two followed them down the corridor. "Seriously, how have you gotten anything done so far? You're worse than my grandparents' knitting group."

Shaking his head, Keith pushed the roof terrace doors open. "Let's just get this over w–"

The rooftop was empty.

"Hey… where's the brother?" Lance's eyes echoed back his own confusion. "We're on the right rooftop, aren't we? Obviously," he answered his own question, "since there's only one, but…?"

Keith's boots reverberated against the concrete as he crossed the terrace, peering down the building's side. A fire escape staircase criss-crossed towards the ground seven floors down. Not that high, but still high enough to make his head spin. "Are we sure Nyma said rooftop?" he said, glancing back at Lance.

"I mean, we can't all have misheard her, right?"

"... Wait."

Keith snapped his head towards Pidge, who had thinned their lips into a line.

"What?" Lance said.

"Think about it for a second. Why would Nyma send us up here to talk to her supposed brother about the hacks, only for it to be empty? Unless he doesn't exist. Unless she is the hacker. Unless all this," they gestured at the open area around them, "is a way to distract us long enough…"

Lance met Keith's gaze, both of them thinking the same thing. "... To destroy the evidence."

Well, shit.

"Lance–"

"I'll go back to the apartment."

Keith nodded. Now wasn't the time to disagree. "I'll take the fire escape. We'll trap her between us if she runs. Pidge, call the CSIs – tell them we have a suspect!"

Without waiting for a response he sprinted towards the stairs, the entire frame rattling as he hurtled down the steps. This time the height was only a distant thought in the back of his mind.

:::

2.45 PM

Taking the stair steps two at a time, Lance silently cursed himself.

How could he have missed it? The hesitation, the way Nyma reacted when she found out they were police, the quick dismissal to the rooftop: a wailing siren couldn't have made it clearer something was up. But he just had to let himself get distracted by stupid Keith and proving his stupid comment wrong and Nyma's stupid paper-thin excuses and… and he was supposed to be good at this part of the job, dammit!

You're such a fraud, the old familiar voice whispered in his head. What are you doing? You don't belong here.

But he still had a chance to get things right. A chance to salvage this whole mess.

As he burst in through the door to Beta Traz, taking in the two-room apartment – kitchen bench and island to the left, couches and coffee table to the right – his eyes zoned in on one thing right in front of him.

Nyma. Standing over a desk stacked with computers and servers with a magnet. Watching as the monitor closest winked out… erasing the computer's drive.

"Stop!"

Nyma whirled around. Her narrowed eyes, determined jaw in complete contrast to her polite curiosity before.

"Hey," Lance closed the door behind him, holding his hands up, making sure every movement was slow, "Hey, let's take it easy, okay? Put the magnet down and we can talk."

A dark scoff left her lips. "Talk? There's nothing to talk about. I'm not going to jail. I'm not."

"Well, by destroying evidence and hindering a murder investigation, chances are you will."

That was apparently not the right thing to say, as Nyma's jaw tightened. Her hand moving towards the next computer.

"Wait, wait, no!" Lance started forward, but immediately thought the better of it. "We can figure this out, alright? Just put the magnet down. Um, please?"

The look on her face made it clear she didn't trust him. She stopped however. Waited for him to make his case.

Think, Lance. Think.

"Listen, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I want to help you. I don't want anyone else to get hurt. So," he took another hesitant step forward. Nyma didn't move, "if you let the magnet go, confess to ordering the hit on Sendak, just... work with me here, I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure you're let off with a lighter sentence. Alright?"

As he talked, Nyma had slowly let her hand with the magnet fall to her side, but by the end her shoulders tensed again. "Confess? I didn't order the hit! I just gave Sendak the info. That's it."

… What?

"You didn't? But why else would you run?"

"Because if someone killed Sendak over the hack I'm next!"

The words barely had time to leave her lips before the apartment plunged into darkness. Swiveling around, Lance blinked to adjust to the sudden black. What the hell…?

"They're here," and for the first time Lance heard a crack of fear in Nyma's voice, "They're here to kill me."

"Hey, let's not jump to conclusions, okay? It could just be a normal power out–"

A sound from the other side of the apartment door made Lance stop short. A sound he recognized all too well.

The loading of a rifle.

Oh fu–

Lance tackled Nyma to the ground as the door exploded off its hinges.