[COMPLETED] After finally turning eighteen, foster-kid Callista Ford, goes out to party with a group of friends, in hopes of coming out of her shell for once, and maybe even snatching up the cute green-eyed guy staring at her from across the room.
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE camera angle switched over to a brunette, holding a microphone to her chest.
''Absolutely, Sarah. Neighbors say, it was a mass shooting out there. It was terrifying! At least a hundred lie dead. The suspects are still at large, police say, and are armed with firearms, and extremely dangerous. The mayor even made a speech about it earlier today, begging anyone with information involving the two suspects, Eighteen-year-old, Callista Mendoza, and Eighteen-year-old, Alec Baldwin, or even where they might be heading, to step forward. Police have said they will double the reward amounts for finding the wanted suspects. So, if you have any information, or are sure you've spotted the suspects, do not interfere. Contact local authorities immediately. Thank you, Sarah. Back to you.''
Carter leaned back in his office chair, looking more confused, and crankier than ever. None of this made any sense to him.
The police were quick with everything else, but slow to catch the suspects they have, had in their clutches, many times, and let go.
They had pursued many leads, and yet, apparently had never seen the suspects.
After taking a quick smoke break - and a shot of alcohol from a flask he had hidden in the back of his jacket in an desperate attempt to de-stress himself, he found himself making his way over to Smith's office.
Things just weren't making any sense to him, and John seemed to be the only detective around there with some common sense.
He went to knock, but found his hand hovering over the handle.
John was already talking with someone inside, On the phone perhaps, because he could only hear one voice out of the two.
'' - yeah, I get it. I get that you're upset, and I know - '' He paused. ''Your men were killed... but more than half of my officers were on the scene, and didn't do much to de-escalate the situation, and I had to take the heat for it.''
He was silent for a moment, then scoffed. ''If your men were so competent, then why didn't they catch them? Huh? They were right there, staring into their faces, and not a single one of your men were able to catch them, Jarvis?''
Jarvis
Carter was absolutely positive he had heard that name somewhere before, though after a second he was bored with spying, and pushed the door open.
John jumped as he came in, bringing his fingers to his lips, as if telling him to be quiet.
Carter rolled his eyes.
''I - I've got to go. I'll call you later, bye.'' And with that he hung up, trying to look casual, but failing.
''Who's Jarvis?'' Carter piped curiously.
''Oh... just one of the officers at work.'' He dismissed. ''Well, anyways, what brings you here?''
He had been working there for the past seven years, and never had he heard of an officer named Jarvis, and since when did John start asking what brought him there? He never had a reason for visiting him in his office, but John had always allowed it.
Everyone was being confusing right now.
The other officers, who had the criminals in their clutches, but failed to catch them. The Media, who was spreading the wrong information, Carter was almost certain that the suspects weren't the ones behind Savannah Ford's death.
He and Carter had literally interrogated her parents, and had come to the conclusion that the people who had murdered Callie's parents were the same people behind the four-year-old's death.
The Mayor was being even more confusing, by doubling the rewards the civilians got from giving tips to the police, would only make them more animalistic, and money-hungry in the long run.
Not to mention, John
Who was the best detective in the building, and still couldn't seem to come up with any new theories, or any ideas on the suspect's whereabouts, or anything.
He was letting his officers do all the work.
Maybe, what the city needed was Carter stepping up.
He scored second on the best detective list, the officers at the station had pettily made.
Maybe, he needed to put down the drinks, pick up more cigarettes, and look more into the case.
Because from what it looked like, John and the rest of the station was half incompetent.
He nodded. Yep, that's what he would do, and he started by tossing his flask into the trash-bin by the door.
''You okay, Carter?'' John asked just as he was about to disappear out the door. He turned back. ''What?''
''You good?''
''Yeah.'' He said, rebuttoning the first two buttons on his suit. ''I've got a lot of work to do.''
