Searching (Bad Girl Book Two)

Chapter 10

(Charlotte's POV)

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," One of the girls says. I think her name was Breanna? I look over at Alyssa, wondering what she's going to say.

"Why not?" she asks.

"I don't know. I mean, people are going to be dressed nice and I'm not sure a chocolate fountain is good for staying presentable," Breanna says.

"We're adults, Breanna. I'm sure people know what plates and napkins are," Alyssa snaps. Breanna looks upset that Alyssa snapped at her, but Alyssa seems to just ignore her completely. "We're having the chocolate fountain," Alyssa tells the caterer. The woman nods and writes on a notepad. "The wedding is in a few weeks, guys. I really don't need you all contradicting me unless it actually makes sense," Alyssa says, clearly annoyed. She sends Breanna a look who just looks down, shaking her head.

"Who's going to be your ring bearer?" I ask Alyssa. I'm not sure I heard her mention it yet.

"Nick," Alyssa says, smiling softly.

I nod, looking away. Of course it's going to be Nick. After watching them some more, I've noticed the subtleties they send each other. I don't know, it may be nothing, but it's hard to think it's not.

I look down at my phone, checking the time. "I have to head into work. Let me know what's going on," I tell Alyssa. I smile at her and leave.

When I get to the police station, my natural instinct is to canvas the area. After scanning everything, I walk inside. I make my way to the detectives sector and look around. I turn when I hear my name, "I'm looking for Charlotte Vindelli." I look over to see Drake standing there.

I frown, "Drake," I call. The officer smiles and excuses himself while Drake makes his way over.

"Hey, Alyssa wanted me to-"

"What the hell?" someone shouts. My eyes snap over to a man at the head of the room. He's wearing a dark grey jacket and he's got on a baseball cap. "No one's listening!" he shouts. Several officers try to calm him down, but fail. "Okay, no one move," he growls.

He unzips his jacket, revealing what looks like a homemade bomb. "Shit," Drake breathes. My eyes go wide and I instantly step in front of Drake.

Officers immediately raise their guns and others run out. I stand my ground, waiting to see what happens next. Now would be a great time to have a service weapon. "If I press this button, we all die. I suggest you all lower your guns. Someone get me a bag!" he shouts. An officer moves cautiously and finds a sack.

He passes it to the man and the guy begins collecting guns. Shit, now we have no defenses. I groan internally when Drake speaks. "Look man, I think you need to-" I hold back a gasp when the man pulls out a gun, instantly shooting Drake's shoulder.

I instinctively brace his fall, helping him to the ground. "You're going to be fine," I say. It's a through and through thankfully. My hand moves to his shoulder, putting pressure to try and stop the bleeding. An officer rushes over with a cloth, helping me.

"Sir, can I ask what you need help with?" I ask, standing up. I don't know what causes me to speak, but my instinct to protect people overrides my better judgement in this moment. Drake is shot. Drake is shot. Drake is bleeding. Drake's blood is on my hands.

The man hesitates, but lowers his gun and speaks, "My case, someone needs to help me with my case," he says.

"What do you need help with?" I ask.

"I didn't do it, ma'am, I swear. I didn't do it," he says urgently. I'm surprised when he says 'ma'am' in a situation like this. He looks like an ex-marine, his hair in a perfect buzzcut. Something about him makes me think he's been in the marine core.

"Okay, do you know your case number? I can get the file pulled," I say.

He shakes his head, but an officer speaks, "Here it is," they say.

They pass me the file and I cautiously walk over to the man, my hands raised. He watches me as I open the file, standing next to him. Despite all of the blood on my hands, I still flip through the file. My better judgement at least tells me that I should help him instead of trying to wrestle the remote away, especially with the gun in his hand.

"Is there anything you think they may have done wrong?" I ask him.

"I- I don't know. I... wait, the fingerprint. There's no way it's mine. I've never been to the location printed," he says, pointing to the file. His language is so formal.

"Charles is your name?" I say. He nods, staring down at the file. "Okay, Charles, I'm Charlotte. Do you want to tell me what happened?" Establish a baseline with the suspect.

Shuffling of feet behind me causes my hand to raise, telling whoever the officer is to stop his movements. He's not going to help us here by trying to attack the man. Plus, what if they really did mess something up? This man would be sent away and it wasn't his fault. He seems to be really determined so maybe there is something wrong. Believe the suspect or be hell-bent on proving you're not lying.

"My sister's friend was killed at her home. I heard about it and before I knew it, cops were arresting me for it and saying that I killed her. I barely knew her, ma'am, you have to believe me." Get the suspect talking.

I nod, "Alright, Charles. The computers in this room aren't designed to run fingerprints through the various databases. We would need to take this to forensics." First names establish a connection.

"Uh- I can hack into the system," a small guy suddenly says. I'm surprised at his volunteering of help.

I look back to Charles, "Is that alright, Charles?" He hesitates, but finally nods. The hacker rushes to one of the computers and begins typing. Charles moves behind him and watches everything that goes down.

"Since your actual prints are already in the system, we can run it against the one found at the crime scene," the hacker kid says. Charles nods and waits patiently.

After a few minutes of horrendous silence, my eyes flicking from the gun, to Drake, to the kill button, to Drake, to the assailant, back to Drake, the system finally beeps. The hacker breathes out, his eyes wide. "It wasn't his," the guy says. Charles looks happy about this. "But we got a possible match within his family." Charles' eyes go wide.

"Run it," he commands. The kid begins typing again and we go through another few minutes of silence.

"Your sister," the hacker says, staring at the computer screen.

"I knew it," Charles mumbles. He knew his sister committed the murder? I shiver at the thought.

"Charles, your name's been cleared. Can we have the button?" I ask him carefully.

He seems to consider my question before sighing. He nods, but steps away from the officers that try to approach him. "Only she can take them," Charles says, looking at me.

He walks over to me and I never break eye contact as he does so. He seems to be searching for something, but I'm not sure what he thinks he'll find. He hands me the gun first and then the button. I let an inaudible sigh of relief escape my lips.

Charles turns around and places his hands behind his back. I subtly pass the gun and button to another officer and she smirks, passing me her handcuffs. I let a ghost of a smirk come across my face as I place the handcuffs around his wrist.

We finally walk out and stick our hands up, making sure the officers know we're surrendering the man. When they realize what's happening, they come and take the man. I watch as officers help Drake out. Paramedics rush over with a gurney.

I rush to his side and watch him slip in and out of consciousness. "Vindelli, you need to answer some questions," a detective tells me.

"Can't you please just ride with us?" I plead. He sighs but nods, getting into the ambulance with me.

I watch Drake intensely while answering the detectives questions.