Sometimes, undercover work could be tough. Today it was tough for Raquel Gonzalez because there had been a mass shooting in the city where she worked as a detective. One of her colleagues had apparently been on the scene, and had put down both shooters if the TV news was to be believed. But Gonzalez couldn't break her cover to learn more, or to check on Kim Burgess. All she could do was continue in her role as Victoria Fernandez.
The morning after the shooting, with Zelina Vega having departed the safe house, Gonzalez decided to do the most likely thing that Fernandez would do, which was to go meet up with the rest of the MC at either Lynch's or Integrity Auto. They would all be showing up and getting together in one place or the other, she felt sure.
It was times like this when being under got strange. Feeling the need to talk to people about the atrocity, the only option she had was the people she was working to bring down. And in a moment like this, she assumed they would be genuinely united in their shock and anger at what had happened. The MC were criminals of course. They ran drugs. They killed rivals from time to time. But massacring innocent men, women and children? That was something else entirely, and they would be as appalled by it as anyone else.
When she arrived at the location of the bar and the repair shop, Gonzalez saw bikes parked outside the bar. Sure enough, the club had gathered together. She parked her own bike at the end of the line, then went inside.
Lynch's wasn't supposed to be open this early, and indeed it wasn't for anyone but the MC. Some of the members were sitting at the bar, eating fried breakfasts. Becky Lynch, the place's Irish owner, was behind the bar. Ruby Riot and Liv Morgan were not there, although Gonzalez had seen Riot's bike outside in its usual spot.
"Morning, Victoria," Shayna Baszler said, seeing her come in. Her tone was fairly sombre. If anything, the fact that she showed civility towards the Prospect said most of all about the current mood in the room.
"Morning, everyone," Gonzalez said, taking her gloves off as she walked to the bar. "Hoped you'd be here. Couldn't sit there watching the news any longer."
"I hear you," Dakota Crowley said.
"Park your ass and Becky will make you some breakfast," Sarah Logan said.
"What would you like, lass?" Lynch asked in a strong Irish accent.
"One of those looks good," Gonzalez said, eyeing up the fried breakfast that Baszler was halfway through. Usually, she kept to a strict diet to maintain her physique and fitness. Considering how she was feeling today though, a cheat day seemed like a good idea.
"Coming up," Lynch said. With that, she went through to the back, heading for the kitchen. Gonzalez was glad she had given the place a thorough clean after starting work at the bar. Before that, she wouldn't have wanted to eat any food that was cooked in there.
"Ah, Prospect! I thought you might show up." It was Ruby Riot, returning from the bathroom, apparently.
"Morning," Gonzalez said.
"Come outside," Riot ordered in her usual no nonsense manner.
Gonzalez got up, and because she was closer to the bar's entrance at the time, ended up leading the way outside.
When she got out there, she was surprised by Riot coming up behind her and embracing her with one arm. It was a totally new kind of gesture from the President.
"Logan told me all about last night. You did good, Prospect," Riot said quietly, talking near her ear. She raised her other hand to where Gonzalez could see it. There was a roll of notes in it. "This is three hundred bucks. Your first money you've made as a member of this MC. Keep it up, and there will be more where that came from. A lot more."
"Thank you," Gonzalez said, making Victoria sound incredibly grateful. She took the money and didn't try to move out of the awkward embrace she was in, although it made her uncomfortable.
"Liv has a friend in hospital, hurt in the shooting last night. He's critical, so I told her to stay with him. Means I need you for a job tonight."
"Anything you need," Gonzalez promised quickly.
"Good girl," Riot said into her ear, then turned and went back inside the bar.
Here we go, Gonzalez thought. It sounded very much like she might be being taken on some business to do with the MC's cocaine running. If so, that would be the start of her time undercover paying off.
"It's that one," Purrazzo said, pointing at a house through the windshield.
Halstead pulled up outside of the home in question, noting that it was indeed the correct number. This was, or had been, Clementine's house. They were in a neighbourhood where most of the people were poor, and the houses had seen better days. The one they were visiting could have used a fresh coat of paint on its woodwork, but the small front garden was well maintained. He imagined Clementine's mom putting work into it.
"There's a key under an old garbage can in the garden," he said as they got out of the car.
When Halstead had arrived at Sylvie Brett's place to pick up Purrazzo he had given her a quick rundown of the previous nights events, which had led to he and Erin taking in Clementine. Purrazzo had said what a wonderful thing it was that they were doing, and had offered any help that she might be able to offer. Taking her up on the offer immediately, Halstead had brought her with him on the mission to retrieve some of Clem's clothes and belongings. Purrazzo had brought some plastic bags to put things in, something that Halstead hadn't thought of. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't operating at maximum efficiency.
"I'm going to guess that gate is looked," Purrazzo said.
A pathway ran down the side of the house and through a tall wooden gate to the rear garden. If the gate was locked, it was going to need climbing over. Sure enough, when she tried to open it, it proved to be locked.
"Over we go," Halstead said. "Need a hand?"
Purrazzo grinned at him. "No. Marine, remember?"
"No, I'd forgotten. You never mention it."
She rolled her eyes at him, then threw the plastic bag containing other plastic bags over the gate. With that done, she jumped up, grabbed the top of the gate and pulled herself up, demonstrating more upper body strength than her physique might have suggested. Once she was up, she got one leg down on the other side, finding one of the gate's supporting bars to put her foot on.
"Want a hand?" she asked him cheekily.
"No, I'm good."
"Okay, well don't tear your nuts off on the top of it," Purrazzo said before dropping down to the ground on the other side.
"I'll keep that in mind." Halstead found the silly banter particularly enjoyable after all the stress of the past twenty-four hours. He wondered if that was why his partner was doing it. Probably, he decided, appreciating her for it.
Using the same technique as his partner, Halstead got himself up and over the gate, and dropped down to the other side. "Maybe I could be a Marine too?"
"Nah, you're more cut out for police work."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
The question never got an answer because they walked into the garden and spotted the old garbage can. Purrazzo went over to it, lifted one side of it up, and sure enough there was a key underneath. She picked it up and gave it to Halstead.
"Right, let's do this," he said, not relishing the task. It was going to be sad, walking into what had been a family home and was now home to no one, thanks to an evil mass murderer.
They walked up to the back door, assuming that was what the key was for. They didn't get a chance to find out before the back door of one of the neighbouring houses opened. A short, overweight black woman came out.
"Who are you? What are you doing in that garden?"
"We're police officers, ma'am," Halstead said, showing her his badge. "Not that we're here on police business."
"Then why are you here?" the woman demanded, unimpressed.
"What's your name, ma'am?"
"Mrs Perrineau."
"Mrs Perrineau, I've got some bad news about Lee and Angie Everett. They were at the Lakeside Mall last night, where they were unfortunately caught up in the mass shooting that I'm sure you've heard about."
"They're dead?" she asked, horrified.
"Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid they are," Halstead said regretfully.
"What about Clementine, their daughter?"
"My girlfriend, who is a police sergeant, and I have taken Clementine in. That's why we're here. We just this spare key from under that garbage can over there, and we're about to go in and fetch some of Clem's things for her."
"How awful. But that's a very kind thing y'all are doing." She looked at both of them while speaking.
"Oh, I'm his work partner, not his girlfriend," Purrazzo clarified. "I'm just here to give him a hand carrying things."
"Ah. Well, I've got a key for the front door if you want me to open it?"
"Would you? It would make getting in and out a lot easier," Halstead said.
"Sure, I'll go round and do it now."
"We'll go in this way," Halstead said to Purrazzo, unlocking the back door.
They made their way to the living room first. The house was clean, but the decoration and furnishings were past their best. The impression was of a family who made the most of what they had, which wasn't a lot.
What caught Halstead's attention was the mantelpiece. There were three framed photographs on it. One was of Angie Everett with a baby Clementine, he assumed. The second was of both parents standing with their young daughter, who was maybe six. Clem's baseball cap and pigtails look dated back at least that far, he saw. The last picture was the one that really caught his eye. It was a head and shoulders shot of Clementine, minus the baseball cap but with the pigtails. It looked so recent it could have been taken only days before.
"That's a very recent picture. She looks just like that now," he said to Purrazzo.
"She looks like such a sweetheart, Jay," she replied. "So much pain for such an innocent little soul. The world is so cruel."
"Yeah, it is," Halstead mumbled.
The front door opened and Mrs Perrineau called out to them. "I'll leave the key in the door. Would y'all bring it back when you're done?"
"Thanks, will do!" Halstead called back.
After finding Clementine's iPad on the couch, complete with a Cubs background picture, they went upstairs and found her bedroom. There was more Cubs stuff on the walls. A scarf, a jersey, and a bunch of posters. One of them was signed, presumably by a player.
"The girl likes her baseball," Purrazzo said.
"Yeah, and so do Erin and I. We're Cubs fans too. Something for us all to enjoy together, in time."
"Family days out. That's so sweet, Jay. What are you going to do about all of this stuff?"
"Going to have to pick it all up at some point, aren't we? For now, let's concentrate on clothes and essentials."
"On it," Purrazzo said, dropping the bag full of bags on the floor and pulling the top one out.
Halstead also got to work. Despite the unpleasant circumstances, part of his mind focussed on what could be done to make Clementine's bedroom in the apartment as nice for her as this one. It was just one of many new responsibilities he now had as a father.
A/N: Jay and Erin are on their first day as parents, doing their best in an awful situation. He learned that Clem comes from a poor but loving family. Will they be able to live up to the standards set by Lee and Angie Everett before their untimely deaths?
And Gonzalez seems to have impressed the MC enough to be given another job. What do you think they'll have her do?