Undercover Cops

Chapter 19

Miley composed the well-known number and waited for a reply. After two or three seconds, a familiar voice echoed through the machine. 

"Hi Mi, what's new?" Nick asked with his morning voice.

Miley bit her lip, thinking about his wild hair and addictive eyes. A day without rain was like a year without rain. "Eh, I have an important update for our mission," she revealed directly to the point. "It might be a major clue."

"What is it?" rushed instantly Nick, curious and eager for new details. "Did you find his nickname?"

Miley shook at head even though she knew that Nick couldn't see her, and let out a heavy gust of air. "I only know that his first name starts with a 'J' and his last name is supposedly the color of death."

"It's better than nothing! Give me two seconds!" demanded the leader of the team, searching for the list of suspects.

Miley waited for a few minutes, retaining her breath. She could clearly hear Nick's discussion with Cole and wondered why did she ever let him go. He was hers; she was his, even though they never said it with the exact words. Skinny love.

"We have now three suspects," announced Nick with a professional tone. "Jill Yellow, John Green, and Josh Orange."

The woman twirled her wavy hair with her index, thinking thoroughly about those names. She wanted to help so bad, but there was no more clue left. Zac is not a fool, she mused thoughtfully. He has always taken a hundred precautions while executing his innumerable crimes. 

"I have no idea," she finally admitted, her heart painful with disappointment. "I promise I'll try to find new updates very soon." There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, both agents trying to find something to say. Miley finally broke the ice again and asked: "How is it going with Cole? Anything new?"

"Well,..." hesitated the man. "He decided to change his dreadlocks into a mohawk and his current obsession is Arabian dresses. I'm not judging his style, but he doesn't look like police at all."

"Why am I not surprised?" Miley giggled, relieved that the awkwardness was slowly dissipating. "And what about the others? Are they okay? Did they find something?"

"Apart from the fact that Beatrice has been raped, not really," sighed Nick. "Time is tickling hurriedly, so we must locate the victim as soon as possible. I'm worried by now."

Truthfully, Miley was worried too. Even if she didn't know the little girl personally, she has always been sensitive to any kind of abuse. Because she dealt with the same issues, of course, in the darkest period of her life.

"Are you still here?" interrupted the man, suspicious about her silence.

"Yes, of course. I was just thinking," answered the brown-haired girl.

"About the mission?" continued the interlocutor.

If only it could be that easy, sadly thought the agent. But unfortunately, her mom haunts her day and night. Abuse haunts her. Cutting haunts her. So many fears, so many hidden secrets that she'd never reveal. Never reveal. "Of course, about the mission."

Miley clenched her fists. She hates lies. She hates liars.

How did she become one?

Meanwhile

"Why are you even choosing your attire so soon? Your date with Taylor is only at night."

Irritated, I paced around the hotel room, watching Joe inspecting every one of his suits. There was only two, but it must have been ten times that he tried them on. He looked handsome either way, too handsome for my fragile heart.