Chapter 1

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Hi everyone. Thank you for reading. If you haven't seen, I'm releasing a novel for Pride month called The Florist on Park Street. TFPS will not have a regular upload schedule, and instead uploaded as chapters are written. That might be a week, that might be a month. This story on the other hand will have a daily release as long as I can sustain it.

Thanks!

Andrea

~

"Officer Charlotte Lan-Anderson," I stuttered into the phone. Still getting used to that.

"Yes, this is the Federal Beaurau of Investigation. My name is Agent Brant."

Ah! No! Hearing those words are my worst nightmare! I quickly muted my end of the phone conversation, put the phone on speaker, slammed it down on the receiver, and shushed the entire precinct.

"Nick!" I called. Nick ran out of the break room and bolted towards our desk.

"Hello? Hello? Are you still there, officer?" Agent Brant asked.

"Nick! Get here faster!" I screamed. The entire precinct was staring at the whole ordeal. Nick slid right next to me.

"Hello?" Brant asked more irritated.

"Oh, so sorry, agent," I said, as I unmuted the phone. "We are using landlines here."

"Are those...even legal?" Brant asked confused.

"In Detroit they are!" I joked. He didn't laugh. Then again...it wasn't funny.

"Anyway...I noticed a long pattern serial murders that you and your partner have been working on. My concern is that we may have to get involved as I suspect the murderer may have moved locations. We saw a very similar overdose case in Illinois," Agent Brant answered. Nick muted the phone before I could respond.

"Bluffing! He's totally bluffing!" Nick announced. I nodded and unmuted the phone.

"Well...if another murder pops up here in Detroit, we'll know that isn't true," I answered.

"Your killer strikes biannually, and you haven't had your first sacrifice of the year. What makes you think that he didn't notice DPD was onto him."

"I probably know this killer better than you. Hitting Detroit is something personal. He knows were a hub for red ice, that's why he likes it," I explained, feeling a bit confident.

"Well...frankly, I trust you, Officer Lance. Unfortunately, my superiors don't. Not to make you concerned, but...if another murder happens anywhere in the country...remotely similar to this one, you will see me at your front door."

"Thankfully, we don't have to worry about that," I answered.

"Sure...sure. I will speak with you soon, Officer Lance," Agent Brant sighed.

"Of course, Agent," I beamed into the phone. I could hear him scoff as he hung up the phone. I took the phone off speaker and turned to Nick.

"We may be in over our heads," I sighed in response.

"Perhaps...just a little. Nothing we can't handle," Nick smiled with fake positivity. Sickening. Connor left out from the captain's office. I love him...but I hate that he is just constantly...constantly looking for a promotion. The worst part is, he does his job really good, and he deserves them.

Nick still makes me call him Deputy even though he got bumped all the way up to Sergeant. I would say its impressive but he's begged for months not to be bumped up. Here, on the other hand, there's Connor, volunteering to take on cases...in the hopes that he can be Hank's lieutenant when Fowler gets bumped up to Commander. It's almost like he forgets that literally...what else would Hank do? It's obviously going to be him and Nick, with Nick being a close third-in-command, but nevertheless, Connor bugs Fowler every day for a new case as though he has to prove his worth. To who, Connor? You're proving your worth to your partner! To your adoptive father!

Okay, to be fair, maybe it bothers me a little too much. Maybe it only bothers me because I don't give a shit about my rank...and I should.

"What was that?" Connor asked, sitting on his chair at such a speed that he slid across the room to be right next to me.

"Nothing. Nothing important," I answered sitting down. He looked at me seriously.

"Just the FBI," I muttered.

"Just? Just the FBI?" Connor mumbled. "I guess they figured out that I only married you for citizenship."

At least Connor's sense of humor has grown. I chuckled a little bit.

"Thanks, Connor," I sighed pushing his chair back towards his own desk.

Sitting down at my desk, I felt far less sure in my career choice. Maybe I'm not a great detective? Connor can solve a murder in a day...but here Nick and I have been stuck on the same one for a year. I don't think Connor knows that, at least considering the fact that he's never asked.

It's odd for him. It's odd for him to have never asked about how I feel about him always solving cases so quickly. Maybe he already knows the answer, or thinks he does, so he never thought to ask. Or, maybe he doesn't even care. All of those scenarios I'm okay with, but I still wonder why. He asks about everything...literally everything. Just a few days ago we were talking about buying dog food.

~

"Do you want to go buy dog food today?" Connor asked rounding the corner, with the leash already in hand. Blueberry raced towards him excitedly.

"Sure."

"Where do you want to go?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Why doesn't it matter?"

"It...okay. Let's go to the pet store around the corner?"

"Okay. What type of food do you want to buy?"

"Uh...probably just the same kind we have."

"Okay. Do you want to walk there?"

"Its just around the corner...so yeah."

"Okay. Do you want to walk Blueberry or can I?"

"Do you want to walk Blueberry?"

"I don't care."

"Sure, Connor, I'll walk Blueberry."

"Okay. Do you want to leave now or later?"

~

Sometimes, I wish he's joking with the amount of questions he asks, but I know he's not. It's gotten to be cute though. I looked down at my wedding ring thinking about how it had only been about a month since it really happened. Just a month since I walked down the aisle and married the love of my life...

Just...one month.

I sighed and began to get back to work, while thinking about Nick handing me off.

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