My Biggest Secret

Chapter 5: Death Sentance (Delta)

The next day Phillip arrived an hour before he originally said he planned to. He told me that he just needed to get out of the office, but we both know that he was just trying to keep me from making a run for it. Honestly I knew that Phillip would be early, in my three years at the agency he never gave any indication of trusting me.

Although I was fairly certain that my mile long criminal record- that he only knows half of- has something to do with it, but you'd think that he could get past that after I bring in several hundred criminals off the street.

In fact if I bring down Jack Wills that would make exactly 400 criminals to date. "Are you seriously going on television like that?" Phillip was standing awkwardly in the middle of my house staring at what I was wearing.

Confused, I looked down at the camouflage jeans, my sneakers and a black shirt. "Is it really that big of a deal? The clothes are clean, I had a shower, and hell I even brushed out my hair!"

Phillip scratched the back of his neck and held up a shopping bag with his other hand, "Actually I think it would be best if you wore this." From the bag he pulled a short black skirt that definitely wouldn't allow me to move properly.

I stared at Phillip, trying to figure out the best way to get this message across. Phillip isn't what most people would expect of a field agent, he has short, dirty blond hair, is short and as skinny as can be. Even though I'm a teenage girl, I have more muscle than him. My silence was unnerving my 'dear' boss as he started to ramble about how it was more acceptable and proper.

Instead of listening to the dope in front of me I walked over to my desk to look over what I knew about the case at this point. From the top drawer I pulled out a piece of paper, a chewed pen and a small package of Fuzzy Peaches. Ripping open the package I popped one into my mouth before writing on the page.

If anyone else were to look at the paper all they would see is a bunch of random letters scrawled on the page with no particular order or meaning, but to me this was a record of my train of thoughts and my deductions. Most of the time I don't even bother with this stage of my investigations, as the criminals are so brain numbingly idiotic that there is no need to use this method to regroup my thinking. With Jack Wills though, I'm pretty sure that it will take a little more brain power than those stupid junkies.

A tugging on my sleeve roused me from my thinking, "Come on Delta, we have to get going. The show is on the other side of the city." Sighing heavily I got up and pushed Phillip out the door so I could lock it after he was out.

I hopped into the passenger seat of his new green Volkswagen and cringed as my body touched the burning leather seats. I always hated leather for the very reason that it won't hesitate to burn you. As Phillip pulled his car out of my run neighbourhood he seemed to relax and fall back into his element. "Why do you live here, even though the agency pays you extremely well?"

I stared, empty, at Phillip, "Pays me well? I get a penny more than minimum wage."

"But I sign your paycheck!"

"No you sign a piece of paper that says I get paid. The head of the division decides how much I get paid. He doesn't trust me, smart guy, and therefore he doesn't pay me well."

The look on Phillip's face could only be compared to that of a fish. "Trust doesn't mean higher-"

"Drop it Phillip!" Anger flooded through my voice causing the man sitting next to me to fall silent. He didn't understand how little things like who trusts who actually affect the rest of the agency and your life. For example I never trusted my sister and then she turned around and tried to kill me, so that's one way trust can affect life.