Angel face, Devil thoughts'

(𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀) 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿-𝟭𝟭

I was running late for the meeting; I'm not sure why I awoke late in the first place. I typically set my alarm for 6:30 a.m., but today I woke up at 9.

I get a severe migraine, and every day it feels like someone is purposely punching my brain. I feel like I need a day off.

Everyone has been putting all the responsibility on me as if I have a magic trick for solving cases since I solved the Richard Dawkins case last year. All I did was delve more into his background to determine why he would try to hold his wife accountable for the harm he had caused.

To be honest, solving the case drove me insane, but I'm delighted I was able to find out everything and put that guy behind bars, as he deserved. Now that I've been given the case of Beatrice Ledger, it's much more complicated than I expected. At first, I thought it would be simple: I'd just interrogate her, and she'd be foolish enough to tell the truth about everything. But when Arthur explained what was going on with Mr. ledger and what happened in Austria,
Now I'm wondering if Tris was set up or if she's guilty but tries to appear innocent. 

Whatever she's up to, I just need to stay two steps ahead.

.................

When I entered the meeting room, the first thing I noticed was the fragrance of coffee, followed by Arthur's glare.
"You are late," Arthur adds, pointing out the obvious.
I ignored him and sat in my normal spot. Chief Caddell was also there at the meeting, scrutinizing the documents in front of him as the others discussed the serious matter of the lost twins, which Sophia was investigating. Then I noticed Sophia talking with Arthur; she appeared uneasy and pale.

Something was definitely wrong, but I had no idea what it was. This is why I fucking hate being late for meetings. I wouldn't have been here this late if Tris had simply shut her mouth and listened for once. I was already late, and she added to it.
My head begins to hurt again, so I rest my forehead on my hand and my elbows on the desk.
I felt a pounding sensation in my brain, throbbing on all sides of my head.

I close my eyes for a bit, attempting to calm the chaos raging inside my thoughts.

They are all discussing something, so I hope they don't notice me. I don't have the energy to participate in the conversation.
After what felt like ten minutes, I tried to open my eyes again, but my head was still hammering. Even after oversleeping, I still have headaches.
"Charles, are you okay?" a gruff voice asked. I looked up and realized it was Chief Caddell, and as he finished speaking, everyone's focus went to me.
"Yeah, you seem off today and aren't participating in our discussion," Ryle stated from the opposite side of the table.
I looked at everyone's anxious expressions. Even the chief seems apprehensive. I looked at them all and said, "Guys, calm down; I'm fine; it's just a little headache; nothing to worry about." I drank the bottle of water in front of me.
"Is it the teen girl who's making your life miserable?" Arthur asked, and nearly everyone burst out laughing.
I grumbled, "I haven't even started anything with her yet; she's such a pain in the ass."
"You haven't interrogated her?" Chief inquired.
"Well, I started yesterday, and after I asked the third question, she started to weep." I was lying. I didn't want people to know that I put her off solely because she was experiencing a mental breakdown. The chief would never have agreed to that.
When she was hyperventilating, I just couldn't leave her. I assume she was still hurt over her breakup with Lucas.
When she was having a breakdown, I wasn't sure if I should go into her room or not. I was at a loss for what action to take. Her appearance in that state made me think of the time when—

"The guilty ones are always the ones giving sob stories and crying just to convince you that they are innocent; be careful with that," Arthur said.
What if she staged all of it in order to avoid answering the questions?
Arthur might be right after all.
"You're one to talk; aren't you the one that walked straight into Lisa's trap when she straight up fed you with lies and you bought every single one of them?" The chief replied.
The more he finished, the louder his voice became. That must be the reason he's still so harsh on Arthur in light of his most recent incident. For this reason, he has assigned Arthur the Mr. Ledger case.
Everyone became quiet. I made the decision to end the uneasy silence.
"Arthur, we need to discuss Mr. Ledger's case, I think I've found something that's connected to Beatrice; we'll discuss it tomorrow."
I discovered something last night that may have something to do with Beatrice, but I don't understand why Ally vanished at the same moment that Mr. Ledger was in danger.
Arthur gave a nod.
I get up and say, "If you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave now."

....................

I went to my office at the end of the corridor to get my other laptop off the desk and some files. I noticed my desktop computer's power switch flashing just as I was ready to depart.
I took a step closer, turned it on, entered the password, and—when I noticed what was written in Microsoft Word on my laptop, my eyes widened in shock.
It's clear that whoever entered this was attempting to frighten me because it was written in bold.

STAY AWAY FROM THE TRUTH
TRUST ME! THIS WON'T END VERY WELL.

THIS MUST BE YOUR LAST WARNING. 

LEDGER DESERVE IT.

**The Fucking slut Beatrice has nothing to do with this**


I hurriedly looked behind me and noticed the window that had been left open. Asshole. I just murmured. He even left a mark here.
He could be right, but I doubt Beatrice has anything to do with Mr. Ledger's case. Perhaps a coincidence, unless...
Oh No.
I just remember leaving Beatrice in that room. When Arthur barged in, I immediately grabbed my things and left.
"Someone wrote─" he started when I cut him off. "I know, I got the same thing; we'll discuss this later; I need to get to Beatrice."

When I arrived at the interrogation room, I was relieved to see it still locked. I was concerned that the person who broke into my office might have broken in here as well, despite the fact that you need a key to enter and there is no window.
I unlocked the door and went inside, chilly air blowing in my face. It was fucking freezing in here; I could have turned off the air conditioning when I brought her here. I suddenly felt terrible for leaving her in here, especially without a jacket.

I noticed her curled up in a corner and felt an ache in my chest as I looked at her.
I step up to her and brush her hair away from her face, but she does not flinch or move.
She must have been deep asleep.
"Beatrice, it's time to go," I say, placing my hand on her shoulder to rouse her awake; Her eyelids flunk open, and she pushes my hands away. Everything happened in a single second.
"Get your hands off me, you asshole," she yelled, rising from the ground.
"You fucking left me here for hours and it was so cold. What is wrong with you!?" Her voice became louder as she concluded. Although I felt awful for leaving her here, she had no right to yell at me.
"You could've worn something that actually covers you instead of shorts so it's not really my fault."
"YOU DIDN'T GIVE ME TIME TO CHANGE!" she exclaimed, and the headache that I thought was gone returned.
"Come on, Tris, I don't have time for this. Let's go." I said, in a soothing way, but she didn't move an inch. 
"Don't fucking call me Tris." She talked quietly, yet it still sounded loud in my head.
I moved closer to her, until we were just inches apart.
Her chest heaved more quickly than when she was upset. I couldn't help but peek down as her chest moved, then quickly returned my attention to her eyes.
Her nipples peaked through her shirt; they were so erect that I could see through her shirt. She was clearly wearing a bra, but perhaps it wasn't thick enough to cover them.
She must have been quite chilly, or this would not have happened. Unless I caused her body to react this way...
"I'll call you whatever I want; now let's go, Tris." I spoke in a husky tone.
She swallowed, and I could see the nervousness in her expression.
"Or what?" she asks, not breaking eye contact.
I scoffed as I hauled her up on my shoulders; within seconds, she began to slap my back and cry like a fucking kid.
I ignored her and left the interrogation room; she ended up keeping her mouth shut, of course. She would not want to embarrass herself. I threw her in the back seat and eventually sat down. I inhaled deeply and gulped down a bottle of water. My head fucking hurts all day, and she only adds to it.
This will be a long journey, and I need to get it over with.
It wasn't even 1 p.m. yet, and the day had already felt too long.
This fucking teenager is driving me mad day after day.