THE ALGORITHM

6.

Several New York police officers were scattered around the dock looking for clues. Detective Michael Forrest stepped out of his Toyota Highlander. He looked around the area with his dark brown eyes suspiciously. The detective noticed a few police officers wearing gloves and placing yellow caution tape in certain areas to prevent people from interfering with the evidence.

"Detective Forrest," a thin-built police officer called out as he approached the detective with a clipboard. His face was pale, and he looked disgusted.

"What happened here?" The detective questioned the man as he began to walk. The rocks crunched underneath his heavy boots until he landed on the dock.

"The victim's a male, mid-thirties..." The officer began as he tried to keep up with Forrest. "We found him lying inside the main section of the boat."

"Another homicide, huh?" Forrest glanced at the officer and shook his head. "It seems like I'm dealing with these types of cases every day."

"The coroner is in the main room. It's best to speak with him about the victim."

"Thank you, Officer Smith. Keep that paperwork with you. I'll need it later."

Officer Smith nodded and decided to leave Detective Forrest to handle his duties. The detective marched onto the yacht and meandered toward the main room where most crime scene unit members worked. He greeted them and was immediately pulled into a conversation by Ned Goldstein. Forrest knew him well. Ned had been working as a coroner for years, and now, at seventy-three, he was still going strong.

"Forrest." Ned greeted him as he looked at the detective over his eyeglasses.

"Ned." Forrest returned his energy. "So, what do we have? Another homicide?"

Ned shook his head while glancing at the corpse lying on the ground. A sheet covered it, so Forrest had no clue how the victim looked.

"Michael, you know I can't call it just yet," Ned stated without much hesitation. "Some things look suspicious, but I have to investigate thoroughly. It could be foul play, and it could be something else."

Forrest didn't speak because he was curious about who was under the sheet. Ned picked up and immediately pulled the cloth away from the victim's face. Immediately, the color drained from Forrest's face. He blinked a few times before stepping back.

"That's...Luis Bellamy." Forrest pushed out.

"Correct." Ned nodded as he continued to kneel. "Based on my initial assessment, he hasn't been dead long—maybe two hours. Rigor mortis is starting to set in his jaw and fingers. His body temperature is also cooling down, but there is some warmth."

"Fuck..." Forrest cursed while shaking his head. "I wonder what the bastard got himself into."

"Who knows?" Ned spewed. "And this yacht belongs to him—well...it did belong to him. I'm not sure what happened here, but it's a homicide or an overdose—maybe both." Ned rambled before tossing the sheet over Luis' face. He stood up straight and sighed.

"What if everything is staged?" Forrest questioned Ned as he looked around the room. Nothing was on the table but an evidence placard next to some white, powdery substance.

"It could be, but there are so many possibilities." Ned voiced while following Forrest. "There are some creative masterminds out here. Bellamy is a rich man with a high profile. The list of suspects is long. He has deep scratches on his face—as if someone was fighting him off. He also had a bag of Rohypnol in his pocket, which is a rape drug. That alone lets me know a woman is involved."

Or man...Forrest said to himself. He always assumed Luis was bisexual from his behavior.

"Hm..." Forrest hummed as he looked over his shoulder. He heard a piercing scream that pained his ears. He noticed a tall woman standing beside a man, cradling her in his arms. They were dressed in expensive threads as they looked around the room. One of the investigators from the CSU team stepped over and politely tried to reroute them from the area.

"I'm sorry, sir and madam, but you cannot be here at this time—"

"That is my boy lying on the floor." The older man pointed out, holding onto the brunette woman. "My boy."

Luis Bellamy's parents. Forrest said to himself.

"I understand." The investigator replied with some firmness. "I get that you're hurting, and I am sorry for your loss, but you cannot be in the room due to the ongoing investigation. We all want to find out what happened to Mr. Bellamy, but to get it done, we will need both of you to stay back."

The brunette woman raised her head. Everyone could see her tanned face, which was smeared with red lipstick. She was a fair woman, but Luis' death affected her. She had taken a turn for the worse. The man, on the other hand, seemed to be following her direction, but he tried to keep himself together and remain strong.

"You'd better do everything you can to find out the truth. I want justice for my son. We pay your salary. Do your job—All of you."

"Alright, dear..." The man whispered. "Let's go."

Forrest didn't utter a word because he knew how rich people were. They had a strong sense of self-entitlement, with a weird belief that they owned the world and could get whatever they wanted at the mere snap of their fingers.

He broke away from his thoughts when he noticed a tall, beefy man standing at the door's archway with Officer Smith. He wore a subtle expression, which made Forrest suspicious. Immediately, he placed his attention on the man.

"This is Jacob. He's Luis's bodyguard," Smith informed the detective. "He's the one who called us down here." The police raised their brows and added, "He also has some information I'm sure you would like to hear."

Forrest nodded and pushed out, "Let's step outside."

###

Bilal sat in the private jet. He pulled back his seat while rummaging through his documents. The man was headed to Oregon. He had a meeting to attend and some business deals to look over. Greg was supposed to fly out and handle the issue, but took his father's place instead.

He noticed the folder that Decon had handed him earlier. It held all of Penny's information. Curiously, he took a look inside and read the front page. Bilal discovered she was twenty-three years old. He found it interesting that Penelope worked as a head chef at Fava's Grill and Lounge. That was his favorite restaurant, so he assumed she cooked most of the dishes there. He also recognized her pursuing an information technology degree at NYU.

Good choice.

Bilal was a little conflicted. He didn't know what he wanted to do with Penelope. The plan could go so many ways, but he wasn't sure which path he wanted to take.

"Ah." The feminine voice called out, interrupting his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder and noticed his fiancée, Victoria. She left the bedroom and walked into the lounge area of the jet. "The bedroom is large and spacious."

"Oh, yeah?"

Victoria took a seat on his lap and said, "Yes. You should come and join me."

Bilal glanced at his beautiful woman and nodded.

"Give me five minutes."