Chapter 6

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Chapter 6

Sam ponders over her case file. Searching the missing person’s reports with the face of the murdered underage girl. Thankfully it’s all the machine doing the job, which is just as well as Sam knows she’s not as focused as she should be. Yesterday she’d managed to forget about it, which wasn’t too hard as she had a long list of household chores to complete. But now at work, it’s a total nightmare. All she can think about is what his next move is. What hers should be. Where this is going to go? If it even goes anywhere. Maybe she should just throw in the towel, before it’s too late? No, no. She reprimands herself. If Mr. I-never-give-up is going to stick to their deal then she sure as hell is too.

The machine flashes with a match. Pleasantly surprised, Sam makes herself focus on the task, as she reviews the hit.

It seems their Jane Doe is (or rather was) Grace Brown, a 17 year old runaway. She had been running since the age of 15 where she reportedly decided to leave the foster care system and her town cops didn’t seem to have wasted too much of their resources to find her. There was no other indication of any of her activities after that which is not too surprising, since after all her activities were illegal. It means only one thing-field work. But this field work will have to be at night obviously, so in the mean time she better try shifting through the various amount of crimes to find any that may match with Santiago. Finding a recently large radius of drug dealings in a shady area of the city, Sam figures it must be Santiago; after all he is top dog and has probably deluded himself into thinking that too. But she can leave that to one of her other team leaders to find out. She in the meantime needs to formulate a plan to try in going undercover to find out what exactly happened to Grace Brown.

“Come on Briggs. Don’t make me order you,” pleads Sam.
“I’m sorry Ma’am but I just can’t. No offence but every time I get roped into one of your missions, something ends up going wrong. And usually, I’m the one getting the blame,” sighs Gale in frustration. It’s not that he doesn’t like working with Sam and it’s not that she’s not a good cop, it’s just that...he’s had more than his fair share of ‘hilarious’ stories with her.
“Okay, first that’s kinda offensive but whatever. And secondly, it won’t be that bad, don’t be so melodramatic-”
“Ma’am I really don’t-”
“Oh fucking hell, Briggs. Grow a pair,” Sam remarks rolling her eyes.
“Fine. Fine, Sam. What am I doing?” groans Gale watching with terror as his boss’s face lights up.


Sam hoists her gun into her thigh holster, hitching the short skirt back down and adjusting her crazily backcombed hair. Then locking up she set off to meet her partner in crime-or rather enforcement.

“Ma’am, are you sure we should do this?” questions Briggs, gazing down from head to toe at his commander. She looked...well, trashy, which is perfect, for her crazy scheme. But surprisingly Gale feels his eyes shine at her with new light. She’s actually...hot. Dear God, he gasps to himself. She’s fucking hot. And maybe not so much in the tiny, tight black skirt with the tacky leopard print crop top and red hot stripper heels but her body sure is something else.
“No...not really. But unless you can magic us up some more leads then we’re going in,” huffs out Sam feeling her face hurt from too much expression, because that’s how much make-up she’d forced herself to cake on.
“Alright. So I’m your pimp, huh?” grins Gale with a smidge of excitement. This is by far one of the top 10 craziest roles she’s ever had him playing, but it sure will be fun.
“It’s only undercover work, got it? That’s it, and this is strictly confidential so no gossiping,” reprimands Sam immediately.
“Sure, whatever you say...whore,” teases Gale, sticking up his collar.

“Hey, baby, you want a good time?”
“Sure sweetheart, but first I need to know if you lovely ladies have seen the...procurer of this woman?” asks Gale playing his role perfectly as he shows the women the picture of Grace Brown.
Sam watches as their old eyes light up with recognition and they briefly glance at each other, right before glaring back at Gale with hostility.
“We may have. What’s it to you?” they bite.
“A simple trade. I hear she’s quite...popular,” he grins easily.
“Oh,” remarks the woman and seemingly asses Gale, “that’s Glitter by the way. Her pimp’s Danny. He’ll be at the club just ‘round the corner.”
“Thank you, sweetheart, much obliged,” winks Gale, clutching Sam by the forearm and seemingly dragging her over to this supposed club.

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