Cold Case Chronicles

1st Story: Under the Surface

The morning sun cast a muted glow over Oakridge, filtering through the blinds of Jack Mercer's office. His phone buzzed on and off for the last hour, but he had been too absorbed in his thoughts to answer. The meeting with Detective Faith Jones was imminent, and his mind was buzzing with questions, each one more pressing than the last.

Jack ran a hand through his black hair, staring at the pile of notes on his desk. The crumpled note from the theater, Lena's warnings about Ronan Bishop, and the few details he had gathered from his brief conversation with the dancer were swirling in his head. All these pieces of the puzzle, yet none seemed to fit perfectly. The case of Emily's death was far more tangled than he'd anticipated, and as much as he wanted answers, he knew that the truth would come at a high price.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost time to head out. Faith had asked him to meet her at the Oakridge Police Department, a nondescript brick building tucked into a corner of the city. The place wasn't much to look at, but it had seen its fair share of investigations. Jack had learned the hard way that the answers he sought rarely came easy.

As he grabbed his leather jacket and slipped it over his shoulders, Jack's phone buzzed again. It was a text from Lena.

*Hope things go well with Faith. Be careful. Ronan's not someone to take lightly.*

Jack sighed, reading the message. He appreciated Lena's concern, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He had work to do.

*I will,* he quickly texted back before slipping his phone into his jacket pocket.

The drive to the police station was short, the streets of Oakridge quiet as the city settled into its morning routine. He parked his yellow Camaro out front and made his way inside, the familiar hum of the police department buzzing as he approached the desk. The receptionist gave him a nod and motioned toward the interrogation rooms in the back.

Faith was waiting for him just inside, her dark hair pulled back into a neat bun. She was flipping through a folder when Jack walked in, her gaze lifting to meet his.

"You're early," she remarked, offering a small smile.

"Figured I'd beat the rush," Jack said with a shrug. He took a seat across from her, his eyes already scanning the folder she had open in front of her.

Faith closed the file and gave him a nod. "I've got something for you," she said, her tone low. "It's from a source of mine. I've been keeping tabs on Ronan Bishop for a while now, and they've given me some information that could help."

Jack sat up straighter. "What did you get?"

Faith leaned in slightly, her voice dropping even lower. "This source—someone who's been close to Bishop's operations—claims that he was at the same club the night Emily died. Not just at the club, but in a back room. The same room where Emily was last seen. They're certain Bishop was there, though they can't confirm what exactly went down."

Jack frowned, his mind racing. "That's big."

"It is," Faith agreed. "But there's more. Apparently, there's a pattern with Bishop. Whenever he's in a situation like this, someone always ends up hurt. No one's ever really been able to pin him down, though. He covers his tracks well."

Jack leaned back in his chair, absorbing the information. The pieces were starting to come together, but not quickly enough. "So, we know Bishop was at the club the night Emily died. But does this source have anything concrete on him?"

Faith shook her head. "Not yet. The source is cautious—understandably. But they're still working on it. We'll know more soon." She paused for a moment, glancing around as if checking to make sure no one else could hear. "I've got to be careful talking about this with you, Jack. My chief's been giving me a hard time about bending the rules, and I can't afford to push too far. But I trust you, and I know you're digging into this the right way."

Jack nodded, understanding the pressure Faith was under. "I get it. You don't have to worry about me, Faith. I'll keep this quiet. We're in this together."

Faith's gaze softened for a moment. "I appreciate that. But don't think this is over. Bishop is dangerous, and I'm not sure how far my source is willing to go. They might not be ready to expose everything just yet."

Jack's jaw tightened. "I'll keep an eye on him. If I come across anything useful, I'll let you know."

Faith rose to her feet, gathering the folder in front of her. "We'll stay in touch. Just remember, Jack, this is bigger than we thought."

Jack stood as well, a sense of determination settling over him. "I'll make sure Bishop pays for what he did."

As Faith headed toward the door, she stopped and glanced back at him. "Be careful. This could get ugly, and Bishop has a lot of people protecting him."

Jack nodded, his gaze steady. "I'm used to dealing with dangerous people."

Faith gave him a look that said she wasn't so sure, but she didn't argue. She walked out, leaving Jack alone with the weight of the case and the knowledge that the road ahead would be anything but easy.

As Jack stepped out of the Oakridge Police Department, the sun was almost at its peak, casting sharp shadows across the pavement. The quiet buzz of the streets was broken by the heavy footsteps of someone behind him. He turned just as Chief Mason emerged from the shadows of the building, his dark suit and stern face casting an imposing presence.

"Mercer," Chief Mason's voice was low but sharp, cutting through the air. "I'd better not catch you back in my precinct."

Jack raised an eyebrow, meeting the chief's gaze without flinching. "I don't have plans to be here again anytime soon."

Mason's eyes narrowed. "You'd better hope not." He gave a stiff nod, turning to leave, but not without one last cold glance over his shoulder.

Jack watched him go, feeling the tension linger in the air. He couldn't afford any more friction with the department, not while he was getting closer to the answers.

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