Chapter 3

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UCLA School of Law was the most popular place to study law in Los Angeles. Chloe herself had debated going here after her atrocious and short movie career. She had been caught between cop/detective or a lawyer. In the end, she did believe she had made the right choice, even if this is how her father spent his last days. Spending her days any other way would not be as fulfilling.

"Ah yes. A place where money goes to die. You mortals do love your money, but you love throwing it away even more," Lucifer mocks.

"This is a place where education happens. I can see why you wouldn't know or approve of this place," Chloe remarks with a sass in her tone. She was taking none of his pestering today if she could help it. The only way to stand up for herself was to play his own game, and beat him at it.

The walls are pained dark red inside, a maroon color of sorts. The small amount of lockers stand out as they were a bright white. The place strangely smelled like a hospital, clean and sterile. Most of the walls had the scales meant to represent justice or some other form of symbol upon them. The floors are so clean that Lucifer's shoes let out a very light squeak as he walks, the little sound that he very quickly finds very annoying.

When they reach the front desk and ask for Professor Hare, Lucifer and Chloe are pointed in a very intricate path up two flights of stairs, down one long hallway and up yet another staircase. The room is a large lecture hall, with angled seats highest and the top and his desk in the middle at the bottom. The room is empty, and the man isn't viable behind his piles and piles of paperwork.

"Professor Hare?" Chloe shouts into the silent room. All of the seats are empty, and for this time of day Chloe isn't surprised. After looking at the crime scene and questioning a couple more unimportant nor suspicious bystanders, it was already well late into the afternoon.

"Who wants to know?!" A large and angry voice fills the room with ease. It is on an extremely low register, and Chloe's eyes widen. Most of the people Lucifer and herself had spoken with today did not hold such power in their voice. Chloe spoke up herself with her next words.

"Chloe Decker. Detective for the LAPD. We have some questions we need answered."

A strong looking black man stands straight up. His face is in shock and he quickly becomes apologetic, smoothing out his blazer, and quickly flying off the words, "I am...so...so sorry Detective."

"No worries. We need to ask you some questions about a homicide."

"Alright. I mean I don't see how I could be of much help but go on," his says with his facial features scrunched. He seems puzzled to say the least.

"How well do you know Royal Jacobs?"

He crosses his arms and puffs out his dress shirt collar. "Too well. Pardon my language but she only fits her name if bitch is placed at the end because that is what she is. A Royal Bitch. What did she do now? Screw another teacher? Or is she done school now and she has moved up to screwing judges? It really wouldn't surprise me if her actions finally landed her in trouble-"

As Lucifer holds his temple and turns the other way to laugh at this situational irony. Brent is flying off the handle, and his words are making him sound anything but innocent. Chloe tells the man the situation,, before he can dig himself a deeper hole. "Brent Hare, Royal was found dead this morning in an alleyway."

Instant regret was written clearly all over Brent's face. He runs his hands down his face slowly, stopping almost at his puffy (and now red) cheeks. While making a moaning sound, he runs them further down to his beard and before placing them on his hips. "Wow. I. Am. An. Idiot. It is way to late to take back what I said, but I assure you whatever happened I had nothing to do with that."

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