𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 | howard stark

xviii. 𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘌𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥

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"I see. Perfect."

Peggy responded to the voice on the other line of the telephone she held in between her shoulder and ear, writing down in a notepad the address and name of the person who supposedly had the contaminated truck with them. (Y/N) wasn't able to perfectly see the words Peggy was writing down from her spot on the chair, so she stood up and peeked over her friend's shoulder to take a look. The words she was able to make up where Sheldon McFee and Cedan Grove, NJ, which gave her a full hint of where their next move was going to be.

"Yes. Yes," Peggy spoke once again. "Thank you."

Without another word, she hung up the phone and set it back where it belonged. She quickly ripped the paper where she had written down the address and reached for her coat, wanting to sneak out of the precinct as quiet as possible. However, (Y/N), who was moving much more slowly than her, caught up with her a few steps away from their desks, where Peggy was quietly looming over Sousa's hunched over figure on his desk.

(Y/N) grabbed her coat from the rack and gave Peggy a questioning look as to why she stopped, her eyes trailing down to where Sousa poorly tried to hide a racing journal. He had a red pencil in his hands, probably for the circle around the name 'Uncle Bob'.

"Whitby's prospect, third race," Peggy broke the silence.

Sousa looked up, startled. He didn't question why she was there but still doubted her choice. "You sure?"

"Not at all," she slid her coat on. "That's why they call it gambling."

He circled the name she suggested. (Y/N) squinted her eyes when she thought she saw a faint smile in Sousa's lips disappear as fast as it came.

"I need to pop out for a minute," Peggy told Sousa. "Personal matters. Cover for me?"

"Sure thing, but you owe me one."

"Got that film developed for you," one of the scientists from the lab said to Sousa in a monotone voice, dropping a file on his desk.

"Hey, thanks a bunch!" Sousa called after him, but the man didn't bother to look back. He didn't wait for either woman to ask before he jumped to explain. "Photographer from the society pages was at Spider Raymond's club. Says he may have got a shot of the blonde and the woman who was with Spider before he got killed."

(Y/N) internally winced when she remembered the photographer back at the club, and how she shied away from the big flash to avoid being caught in film. Apparently, she wasn't that lucky.