Stolen Shadows

7 - Trust, Lies, and the F*cking Truth

Addison went back to work the next day. She'd tried her best to cover the bruises with makeup. As long as she didn't get too close to anyone, no one would notice. She also opted for a black turtleneck to cover the burn. Her skin was irritated as hell from the tight fabric but she did her best to ignore it.

She went straight to her office when she arrived. She'd reviewed the file Sophie left for her and found some updates Chigs discovered on Michael Rodriguez, the man whose boat randomly vanished from the port.

Rodriguez had been MIA for the past five days. His residence was empty, but Chigs found satellite imagery of the boat tucked away into a much smaller dock on the east side of Manhattan. And, Chigs found something else: a connection to the drug cartels.

The guy had a record. Petty crimes, one robbery charge, did some time. Later on he got caught up in the cartels and used his boat for shipments. He'd been with them a few years when all of a sudden the contact stopped. Addison knew his boat disappearing from the main port the same night she interrogated one of the dealers was just coincidence; but framed in the right light, it could be exactly what she needed.

Rodriguez wasn't alone in his work with the cartel. He had a cousin, Henri, who did the dirty work with him.

And six months ago, Henri turned up dead.

Chigs had found the guy's home address, a warehouse apartment complex on one of the worse sides of town. Addison planned on checking it out today. If she could find Rodriguez and figure out what happened, she might be able to use him for what she needed.

She was mapping out the route to his apartment, checking for escape routes, back doors, the closest known police stops, when someone knocked on her office door.

"Come in," she said, and they entered.

It was Don. "Hey, Chief. You got my report?"

She nodded, the fabric at her neck chafing the burn. She bit back a curse. "Yeah. Thanks."

Don sat across from her. "Thank Hale. She was pretty eager to run it over to you."

Addison ignored the curiosity in his tone. "She did it wrong, you know."

"Hm?"

"You just leave it inside the door," she goes on. "Hale actually came inside."

"Oh?"

Addison finally looked up. Don had one eyebrow quirked up, his eyes alight with mischief.

"If you have something to say, Donald, out with it."

He grimaced at his full name. "It's just—the two of you seem pretty friendly."

"After yesterday I don't think she's even willing to see me," Addison muttered.

"God, what did you do?" Don groaned.

"Nothing!" Addison exclaimed. "She just shouldn't have come in. It's—it's unprofessional. I'm her Chief, she's a detective, she should have gotten the job done and left."

"Did she not deliver the file?" Don asked.

Addison rolled her eyes. "Do you actually need something? Or are you just here to interrogate me?"

"Addy, look at me." Don leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. "Don't do something stupid. She's young, she's attractive, she's your type—"

"Says who?" Addison interjected.

Don went on, ignoring the interruption. "But it would never work out. If something happened and got out, both your jobs would be in jeopardy. Not to mention we're still on a time crunch with this case. We can't afford to have you two distracted."