Addicted Book 4: 2021 Bonnie & Clyde [COMPLETED]

Part Six

~Miracle~

My name is Miracle Vendetta. I'm 28 years old, and head lieutenant of MPS. Metropolitan Police Service if you're not familiar with London. I'm one of the youngest to achieve the title of lieutenant, and I take it very seriously. I'm one of the hardest workers in my career and I never plan on letting it slip until I retire.

My daily routine included working 6 out of 7 days of the week. I usually only had to come in when needed, I could do most of my work from home or on the road but I usually had to come in to keep the unit at bay.

I started each day with a small breakfast, a small glass of orange juice, and a good hour and a half in the gym with a fresh gallon of water with me. The last 45 minutes of my routine every day was jogging. Every time I'd empty my gallon of water I'd go right on to the next one. I was a pretty healthy person. I couldn't afford not to be.

After the gym, I'd usually take a quick shower and go to work when I had to, or when I was off just shower and grab a bite to eat for lunch or come home and make something light for lunch and take a shower and relax or go over files, then end the night out with a drink or hanging out with friends. Pretty simple routine.

Right now I had just finished up at the gym and sat in my car outside of Panera. I didn't bother taking off my gym gear that was only a sports bra, Nike running shoes and spandex shorts. My short pixie cut remained neat as I looked in my rearview mirror and put my sunglasses and lip gloss on. I grabbed my purse and folder from my passenger seat and got out of my car, locking the door and went into the restaurant. It was pretty much a usual.

"Lieutenant Vendetta, the usual salad and iced water I presume?" The cashier asked when I walked in.

"You know best, Keith." I grinned, pulling my wallet out of my purse. "How are you today?"

"Same old same old. This place is just as slow as usual." He said as I handed him my card.

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that. The lunch rush should be coming by any minute now to keep you on your toes. Better hope I don't jinx it." I winked as he filled my cup with ice and water.

"Let's hope you do. I'm dying of boredom." He rolled his eyes and handed me the drink. "Your salad will be brought to you in just a second." He smiled. I thanked him and went to a table. I dropped my straw by my seat and bent over to pick it up then sat down. I began to go over the files in my folder as I waited for my salad. I reviewed the reports from my officers for the day and the cases a few of my detectives had been working on.

The Lost Kid from London

The title was plastered as the old headline in the newspaper from 20 years ago. I read the article a million times, but I was constantly drawn back to it. It has been an unsolved case for 20 years, and unsolved cases don't sit well with me.

"In a suburban home the quiet morning of 17 November 1994, a horrific murder occured in the home of the Robert's residence in the quiet and secluded parts of London. The man of the home, Isaiah Roberts (36), was found dead at 8:26am. He died from repeated trauma and injury to the head and face from his oldest child, William Roberts(6), over a family discrepancy.