The next morning, Lucy and Tim meet with Angela and Nyla before heading out to patrol. Lucy hands over the note, now in a plastic bag with its accompanying envelope.
"So it was just mixed in with your mail? Not labeled in any way?" Angela asks, taking the note from Lucy.
Lucy nods, "Yeah — nothing other than the note."
"Hmmm," Nyla, Angela, and Tim exchange glances, and Lucy feels uncomfortably like the child in the room, while the grown-ups are having a conversation with their eyes.
"We'll have it run for prints. But honestly, it's pretty odd. There's no saying whether it was meant for you or it could just be a harmless prank, but with everything that's going on, I don't feel good about it, Lucy. It could be tied to Solanga, it could be tied to Tamara, or it could be completely unrelated. We'll have to wait and see what comes up," Angela finishes with a sigh.
"It's not really the M.O. of a drug operation, and we've had eyes on Solanga's crew; we'd know if they were anywhere near your place, Lucy. But that doesn't mean they couldn't have sent someone we're not watching," Nyla frowns, "but honestly, it just doesn't make a lot of sense."
Angela looks at Lucy, "I know the message is pretty general, but is there any reason you can think of that someone might call you a liar? It could be work related, but it could also be personal."
Lucy shrugs, "Not other than the obvious — I told plenty of lies when I was undercover."
"So, normally, I'd just suggest we get some eyes on your place, to see if whoever put this in your mailbox comes back, but we're kind of resource-constrained right now. We've already got multiple units assigned to Solanga's crew, and with that global summit later this week, I don't know that we can get anyone assigned full-time just off of this one note. I can ask the Tech guys about setting up a camera in the mailroom though," Angela jots a note down as she finishes.
"That's not good enough," Tim snaps. He's been wound up all morning, and Lucy feels an unexpected pang of warmth toward him, despite the fact that he's being a bit of an ass.
She tries to smile reassuringly at him, "It's okay, Tim. It's just a note. It might be absolutely nothing."
Tim opens his mouth to disagree, but Nyla cuts him off, "It's not just a note, Lucy. And we take any threat to our UC's safety very seriously. No matter how minor it might seem. But what I'd like to know is — honestly, how are you feeling, Lucy? It's been a crazy few days. If you're feeling uncomfortable at all, we can get you set up in a safe house — just say the word."
Lucy shakes her head vigorously; a safe house will mean she can do absolutely nothing to help Tamara. "No. I don't want that. I need ... I need normalcy and my routine right now as much as possible, and, more than that, I need to be able to help Tamara. Look, I'll do whatever you suggest as far as precautions, but I don't want to be sent away."
Nyla and Angela exchange glances again, before Nyla nods, "Okay. I hear you, and I agree. I think the safe house would be an overreaction at this point. Let's just keep monitoring things, and the minute anything seems off or if you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable, I want you to call me."
The tension is practically radiating off of Tim now, "Are you ser—"
"Tim," Angela warns.
"Look, Tim," Nyla says pointedly, "You're in here as a courtesy. That's all. You don't really have a say in this, but if you'd like to make some constructive suggestions, we're all ears."
Tim glowers at Nyla, crossing his arms over his chest as his jaw clenches, "I don't think you're taking this seriously enough. I think she should go to the safe house, but like you said, it's not up to me."
After a few beats of angry silence, Tim shifts gears, "Could it be someone from La Fiera's organization? She knows Lucy is a cop — she could have passed that along to others."
Angela frowns, "It's possible, but what's the motive? Why the note? Like Nyla said, sending vague, anonymous notes isn't really a go-to cartel intimidation tactic."
"Okay, so let's think about it from the Tamara angle," Nyla offers, "whoever shot Tamara sent this note? Or is it possible the note was actually intended for Tamara? She was living with you recently, wasn't she Lucy? How long has it been since you checked your mail?"
Lucy looks sheepish, "Yeah. You're right — that is possible — it's been a few days; maybe even a week," she admits. "Jackson's better about staying on top of stuff like the mail."
"So the note could have arrived even before Tamara was shot, or even before she moved out?"
Lucy nods slowly, eyes widening as the realization hits her that the note could have served as some kind of warning for what was to come.
Angela's expression softens as she reads the concern on Lucy's face, "Or maybe we're just searching for patterns that don't actually exist. It's one ambiguous note. Hell, it could have been meant for Jackson for all we know. All of these theories are possible, but we aren't doing ourselves any favors with all the speculation. We need to follow the evidence and facts and focus on the most logical motives.
"Tim said you went to her school yesterday? And that her friends Jenna and Marissa reacted when you asked about Scott?"
Lucy nods.
"Good — that's something we didn't catch in our initial questioning, and given how you bonded with Tamara, I think it makes sense for you to keep working on the girls; they may be more likely to open up to you."
"Have you been able to get anything from her laptop?" Lucy asks.
"We're still going through it, but nothing much yet that speaks to a motive for murder. Although, I did want to ask you — did you say that Tamara and Scott's girlfriend didn't get along?"
"Yes — Tamara seemed to think Cara was a big part of the reason Scott kicked her out. She didn't share any specifics though."
"Hmmm," Angela says, "So, it's not clear why, but Tamara saved a screenshot of a DM conversation with Cara from several months ago — before Scott kicked her out, I believe. The conversation seemed to be friendly — Cara was inviting Tamara and her friends to a party at La Marca Hotel over the weekend. Does any of that mean anything to you, Lucy?"
Lucy shakes her head, "No, I'm sorry, but it doesn't. I mean she's a teenager with no real adult supervision, so it's not out of the ordinary that she occasionally goes to parties with her friends, or even out with an older crowd; I saw some pictures indicating as much on Instagram. But I don't think she ever mentioned La Marca or hanging out with Cara specifically.
"But clearly, something in the dynamic between Tamara and Cara changed between when that message was sent and when Scott kicked her out of the apartment. The question is why? What did Scott and Cara say when you questioned them about why they threw her out?"
Angela rolls her eyes, "They just said the apartment was getting too crowded, and that Tamara wasn't paying her portion of the rent.
"Which leads me to the other interesting thing we found — we're looking into transactions on the prepaid debit card Tamara used — she had several deposits of $500 each a few months back — all within maybe 2 weeks of each other — I'll send you the specific dates. We're trying to get more detail on where the deposits came from via the provider. Did Tamara mention a job or some other way she might have been making some extra money?"
Lucy sighs dejectedly as she shakes her head, every question that she doesn't know the answer to weighing more and more heavily on her spirit. As close as she and Tamara had become in a short period of time, there is obviously still a significant amount she doesn't know about her.
"Well, we'll keep digging. And, Lucy, we obviously can't prove it yet, but Rita and I both agree with you — there's more to why Scott and Cara kicked Tamara out; we will get to the bottom of it."
***
Lucy leverages the time between calls to do the digging on social media she'd been too exhausted to pursue the night before.
After scrolling through hundreds, if not thousands of images and videos, Lucy buries her head in her hands with a groan, "The human race is far too vapid and shallow to survive; we're doomed."
Tim snorts, "Coming from the girl who can't eat without taking a picture of her food first and spends her free time filming weird dances in the parking garage... Yeah. I saw that," he says as Lucy's eyes widen.
Lucy glares at him, "Hmmph. I engage in social media a healthy, normal amount, Tim. Social connection is important, though I wouldn't expect you to understand. I'm sure it's hard to keep up with the times as you get older."
Tim glowers at her, but Lucy brushes it off, "But this," she lifts her phone, "this is not healthy. It makes me so sad to think about the time these girls invest in curating some perfect internet version of themselves instead of just enjoying their youth in the real world."
She rubs a hand over her forehead before clicking through to Jenna's profile from a tagged photo of her and Marissa. She scrolls back in time through the thumbnails, somewhat mindlessly, until an image of Jenna and Tamara posed together in bikinis in front of a pool catches her eye.
She holds it out for Tim to see, "Have you been to La Marca Hotel? Could this be their pool?"
Tim's eyes widen slightly when he glances at the photo, "That's what they're posting? How old are these girls?"
Lucy frowns, "Barely legal, but that's beside the point..."
Tim shakes his head, "It could be, but it's hard to tell. Are there other pictures? Why don't you try comparing to the photos on their website?"
Lucy nods, noticing the tags and caption on the photo as she moves to scroll. "Hmmm, that's interesting. It looks like that was actually a sponsored post; it's an ad for something." She clicks through the additional tag for 'Beyond Crystals' which takes her to a profile page featuring a mixture of crystal pendants and girls in tiny swimsuits wearing those pendants. A skim of the poolside photos in conjunction with a quick google of 'La Marca Hotel pool' confirms that the bulk of the photos on the page are, in fact, from La Marca Hotel.
She continues to scroll down the page until she lands on a photo posted several months ago featuring Cara, Tamara, Marissa, and Jenna, bikini-clad with bright smiles and all wearing matching crystal pendants. "Gotcha," she says. "I think I found a picture from the party Cara invited Tamara to; it looks like it was some kind of event for this Beyond Crystals company."
Tim raises his eyebrow questioningly, "Crystals?"
Lucy rolls her eyes, "Yes, crystals, Tim. They can have powerful healing properties." Lucy frowns, "Although, I'm not sure what that has to do with scantily clad girls at La Marca Hotel, but I guess even crystals can benefit from influencer marketing."
She clicks through to the linked website and is surprised to find that the site is surprisingly barren in comparison to its Instagram page — just a few basic pendants that seem exorbitantly overpriced for what they are and a contact via email feedback and inquiry form.
As their next call comes in, Lucy hurriedly sends Angela a link to the photo of the girls at the party and a link to the company website, hoping to confirm that the date of the photo aligns with the DMs Tamara had saved on her laptop and that someone on Angela's end might be able to dig up more information on the company.
***
When Lucy arrives home after shift that evening, a second plain, unlabeled white envelope is waiting for her at her door. So much for putting a camera in the mailroom.
Lucy can feel her pulse quickening as she pulls a spare pair of gloves out of her bag to pick up the letter. Inside the apartment, she breaks the seal, handling the envelope with much more care this time.
Like the last time, there is a small white square sheet, though this time only a single word message printed in the center:
Hypocrite.
But there's also something else inside of the envelope. Lucy pulls out a folded strip of paper, her stomach dropping as she realizes what it is — a photocopy of the header of an internal police file. Specifically, the internal memo detailing the IA investigation into Officer John Nolan's fatal on-duty shooting of Alex Montgomery and the subsequent, related home invasion by Kyle Montgomery.
She lets the thin piece of paper drop from her hands, watching in a momentary daze as it floats to the surface of the kitchen island before turning to run for the bathroom as she realizes she is going to be sick.
***
What do think so far? Any theories? Hope you are enjoying the story! Thanks for reading ❤️