Philadelphia, the incident with Detective Ken Carmichael.
There were two police responses to any involvement by Cornucopia Ltd. Response a: DL De Luca was on their side this time, and therefore not to be trusted outside of the exact incident. Or Response B: Shady secret organizations with access to lots of money weren’t to be trusted full stop.
He hadn’t said as much, but clearly Detective Carmichael subscribed to Response B.
He was voluntarily driving her back to the airport, a still wall of disapproval with a crooked tie and the gray pallor of an investigator who didn’t understand what had just happened. It was the look of a man who didn’t like not understanding.
White.Rabbit: Scheduled check-in window closes in forty-five minutes.
DeLuca: Acknowledged. Official business will be concluded in fifteen or less.
“So do the people who buy into this fund know you just offered to give five million of their dollars to a couple of thugs?”
She blinked at him. Aside from a barked ‘offer’ to drive her to the airport—she was relatively sure it was because he wanted her out of his territory, but that wasn’t unusual—he hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t spoken to her above the bare minimum since she went over his head to ensure she made the ransom drop herself.
He didn’t need to know what had happened on the drop. His kidnappers and the person who’d hired them were in custody, and had admitted their transgressions. No money had changed hands. The victim was home safe with her family.
He glanced at her, waiting for an answer.
“I have no knowledge of what information is or is not passed to the fund members of Cornucopia Ltd.”
“So you’re just the paid stooge,” he tried to goad.
“I work on behalf of the best interest of the fund and its members.”
She didn’t say it thinking the company line was going to stop his questions. Detective Carmichael may have been hard and disapproving, but he hadn’t been bad at his job that she’d seen. He understood how his command chain worked, and she had every reason to believe whatever questions he was still asking when she left, they would quell them.
Detective Carmichael knew everything he needed to know. The fact he didn’t feel it was enough was no more her concern than understanding her actual job description was his.
“Do you have children?”
“In what way is that relevant.”
“I’m wondering if they grow people like you in a lab. You know, people who can look at a terrified little girl and not flinch. Do you care?”
“I am paid to complete a job and I complete it.”
He stopped, harder than strictly necessary, at the unloading zone. “Remind me not to call you if I’m in trouble.”
She let herself out of the vehicle and took her case when he pulled it out of the trunk. “Thank you for the ride. Goodbye, Detective Carmichael.”
“Yeah, Goodbye Ms. De Luca.”
She turned, and walked through the automatic door.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Carmichael muttered, probably assuming she wouldn’t hear him.
She made no acknowledgement, and meticulously deleted his contact information from her phone as she walked through the airport.
DeLuca: Business accomplished. Commence standard information scrub.
White.Rabbit: PHL paperwork tagged appropriately, as well as Detective Carmichael’s personal and work email. Your personal messages have loaded. Do you require anything else?
DeLuca: No, this device will go dark at altitude. Thank you for your work Ms. White.
When the seat belt light turned off DL DeLuca stepped into the bathroom. No one seemed to notice when Dottie stepped out.
There were two police responses to any involvement by Cornucopia Ltd. Response a: DL De Luca was on their side this time, and therefore not to be trusted outside of the exact incident. Or Response B: Shady secret organizations with access to lots of money weren’t to be trusted full stop.
He hadn’t said as much, but clearly Detective Carmichael subscribed to Response B.
He was voluntarily driving her back to the airport, a still wall of disapproval with a crooked tie and the gray pallor of an investigator who didn’t understand what had just happened. It was the look of a man who didn’t like not understanding.
White.Rabbit: Scheduled check-in window closes in forty-five minutes.
DeLuca: Acknowledged. Official business will be concluded in fifteen or less.
“So do the people who buy into this fund know you just offered to give five million of their dollars to a couple of thugs?”
She blinked at him. Aside from a barked ‘offer’ to drive her to the airport—she was relatively sure it was because he wanted her out of his territory, but that wasn’t unusual—he hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t spoken to her above the bare minimum since she went over his head to ensure she made the ransom drop herself.
He didn’t need to know what had happened on the drop. His kidnappers and the person who’d hired them were in custody, and had admitted their transgressions. No money had changed hands. The victim was home safe with her family.
He glanced at her, waiting for an answer.
“I have no knowledge of what information is or is not passed to the fund members of Cornucopia Ltd.”
“So you’re just the paid stooge,” he tried to goad.
“I work on behalf of the best interest of the fund and its members.”
She didn’t say it thinking the company line was going to stop his questions. Detective Carmichael may have been hard and disapproving, but he hadn’t been bad at his job that she’d seen. He understood how his command chain worked, and she had every reason to believe whatever questions he was still asking when she left, they would quell them.
Detective Carmichael knew everything he needed to know. The fact he didn’t feel it was enough was no more her concern than understanding her actual job description was his.
“Do you have children?”
“In what way is that relevant.”
“I’m wondering if they grow people like you in a lab. You know, people who can look at a terrified little girl and not flinch. Do you care?”
“I am paid to complete a job and I complete it.”
He stopped, harder than strictly necessary, at the unloading zone. “Remind me not to call you if I’m in trouble.”
She let herself out of the vehicle and took her case when he pulled it out of the trunk. “Thank you for the ride. Goodbye, Detective Carmichael.”
“Yeah, Goodbye Ms. De Luca.”
She turned, and walked through the automatic door.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Carmichael muttered, probably assuming she wouldn’t hear him.
She made no acknowledgement, and meticulously deleted his contact information from her phone as she walked through the airport.
DeLuca: Business accomplished. Commence standard information scrub.
White.Rabbit: PHL paperwork tagged appropriately, as well as Detective Carmichael’s personal and work email. Your personal messages have loaded. Do you require anything else?
DeLuca: No, this device will go dark at altitude. Thank you for your work Ms. White.
When the seat belt light turned off DL DeLuca stepped into the bathroom. No one seemed to notice when Dottie stepped out.
Come back tomorrow for E: Endings!
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