Nefarious {Harry Styles A.U}

Twenty Three

Nothing.

The LAPD had been searching for hours on the background of Michael Clifford yet here they were, with nothing but empty searches in front of them.

Harry Styles sat with what seemed to be his eighth cup of coffee, running a hand through his messed up hair and rubbing his eyes, staring at the harsh screen in front of him had done absolutely nothing to help his headache.

Louis Tomlinson had retreated back to his lab; his high powered computers would be able to search through ten times more information in the same amount of time that the small, out of date computers in the bullpen would be able to do.

"I've got nothing. We've been here for hours Harry and what do we have to show for it? Jack shit." Liam complained, throwing his empty coffee cup in the bin beside him.

"You think I don't know that? I'm trying to save Niall here and I'm on the exact same page that you are." Harry sighed, leaning his head on his hands.

"Maybe Clifford was just fucking with us? Maybe he's sending us on another fucking wild goose chase."

"He does have a point Harry." Captain Stock emerged from his office, looking worse for wear.

Harry shook his head and stood up from his chair, making his way back down to the interrogation rooms, forcing his way into the one where Michael was still sitting.

"Detective, finally remembered me did you?" Michael smirked, scratching at his chin.

"You've been fucking with us haven't you." It wasn't a question.

"Well, obviously. Have you not been paying attention?" He laughed, running a hand through his head. "I honestly thought it would take you a lot longer to get into those files, the judge did such a good job at keeping them hidden, even the FBI never found them." Michael smiled but it wasn't a playful smile like he'd been throwing in Harry's direction the whole time, it was a genuine smile, a saddened smile.

Harry knew they'd found nothing in the last couple of hours, but obviously Michael didn't know that; he clearly wasn't as smart as his partner.

"Took us a while but we got there, tell me; why did the judge hide them that deep? Surely it was nothing to be ashamed about." Harry was playing along, thinking that he could get inside Michael's head, say the right thing and he wouldn't even need to have those files found. He'd have all the evidence he needed.

"Oh please, you think the FBI was really going to want to hire someone with my family background? Even had to change my name so it would stay hidden; but well done I'm officially impressed." Harry stared at Michael for a moment, he had no idea he was helping Harry with this case. "With what happened to my parents, is it really any wonder that I turned out the way that I did? Honestly," Michael let out a small chuckle, "I'm surprised I'm not even more fucked up."

Harry continued to look at the man in front of him, his eyebrows scrunched together as he looked. What could have happened to him? Maybe that's why we couldn't find anything, the name change; if we were looking for 'Clifford' it would have been impossible to find anything before the last name changed. Harry stood from the chair and walked out of the room, down into Louis' lab, pushing the large metal door open, the smell of chemicals hitting him instantly.

"Harry I was just about to call you, I've found nothing on Michael, like at all. It's like as soon as he was 18 the records just stop, like they've been wiped from the system, so," Harry went to interrupt Louis whilst he was on a rampage around the lab but he figured it best to let him just carry on. "I took a sample of DNA from the saliva that was on the bottle of water we gave to Clifford when he came in, turns out his name's not Michael Clifford, It's Michael Ashburn." Louis beamed at Harry who simply crossed his arms. The name rung a bell for him, though he couldn't place it.