Case: 0 (Annalise Storm Chronicles Book 1)

by May Freighter

  “Are you the manager?” Annalise asked, her voice unwavering.

  He licked his cracked lips. “Yeah, I am. Edgar Crook at your service.”

  “Mr Crook, we are looking into the death of Robert Fern. Our information tells us that he was an employee here.”

  Edgar’s gaze raked over her from head to toe as if trying to make her clothes become see-through. Fighting the urge to shoot him with a tranquillizer, she remained in place.

  “He did work here, yeah. Too bad about poor Robert, he was a good man and worked hard as my assistant.” Edgar outstretched his hand towards Annalise.

  Mavel blocked the manager’s offered greeting.

  “Were you close?” she asked.

  Edgar stuck his pinkie in his ear, twisting it. “Not really. He came, did the job, and left like everyone else.”

  “Then, would you mind if we have a look around?”

  The manager’s lips stretched into an unpleasant smile. “Of course, I am always eager to help the DPD. Wait here. I’ll call someone to give you a grand tour of the facilities.” He waddled back into the office.

  Tension left her shoulders, and she whispered, “What a creep.”

  Edgar peered from behind the door. “Samson will be here in a minute.”

  The manager wasn’t kidding. Exactly sixty seconds later, a beast climbed the steps, two at a time, and rushed to their side. He was slightly taller than Mavel, and his tanned skin highlighted the silver in his irises.

  “Give the lady and her dog a tour, will you?” the manager ordered.

  Annalise held her tongue, knowing full well defending Mavel would only get this freely offered excursion cancelled. Left without a choice, she counted to ten in her head to soothe the burning need to punch someone—preferably the manager—in the face.

  “Follow me,” Samson said in a low drone and folded his greasy black hair behind his ears.

  Trying to keep up with the beast’s stride, she hurried her steps. Next to her, she could feel Mavel’s body tensing and relaxing. It was as if he was unsure whether they were in danger or not.

  “Did you know Robert Fern?” Annalise asked.

  “Yes, a good man and all that.”

  “You sound like you’re parroting exactly what your manager said.”

  Samson stopped, and his lips twitched upwards. “I do, don’t I?”

  They descended a set of stairs to the lower floor. Noisy machines hurt her eardrums, so she had to strain to hear the workers. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. Without having to look up, she knew that every person in the room was watching them.

  “What was he really like?” Mavel asked.

  All humour fled Samson’s face. “He was a pureblood and because of that, he was the assistant manager. He came in early, did his job, and left on time. Robert didn’t complain, so we tolerated him as we tolerate the fat arse upstairs.”

  Annalise pressed the record button on her wrist comms. “Did Robert have any enemies here?”

  Samson chuckled. “Any pureblood in the Green is an unwelcomed guest. What do you think?”

  “Don’t be rude to her,” Mavel said through gritted teeth.

  Almost immediately, the remaining chatter stopped. With one glance, Annalise knew they were in trouble.

  4

  Red District

  Mavel kept his attention on Samson as he stepped in his way. Instead of feeling protected, Annalise’s annoyance reared its head.

  She pushed past him. “Let’s stop the pissing contest, guys. We’re here to investigate a murder.”

  “A murder of a pureblood,” Samson corrected. “No one here gives two credits about them!”

  She snorted. That was the first honest answer from his big mouth since their initial meeting. She gave the workers another brief once-over, noting some men were glaring their way. There had to be a way to reduce the tension. She folded her arms. “It’s a murder, nonetheless. Or do you support such antics?”

  Samson sneered. “Of course not, Detective.”

  “Then answer my questions or Mavel will drag you to the station.”

  Mavel cracked his knuckles. “It would be my pleasure.”

  “Fine!”

  “Did Robert have any enemies here?” Annalise asked.

  The beast shook his head. “I don’t know. No.”

  “Is it a ‘no’ or you ‘don’t know’?”

  Samson rolled his eyes. “It’s a no. No one here would dare harm a precious pureblood.”

  Her next question came to mind. It didn’t seem likely, but she asked anyway. “Did he have any friends?”

  The worker scratched his head. “Doubt they were pals, but he was hanging out with Todd for a few days.”

  “Todd who? And where can we find him?” Mavel asked.

  “Todd Green is the new part-timer. He’s off for a couple of days. As far as I know, he usually hangs out in the Red District.”

  Annalise grimaced. Red District was labelled as such for a reason. It, along with Black, was in the outer slums. If anyone wanted a shady deal done, they went to the underground groups in Black located in the southernmost part of Divinity. Whereas, if they fancied different kinds of uncensored pleasures not permitted elsewhere, they visited Red in the north.

  She found Mavel eyeing her with interest. “What?”

  “While you were daydreaming, I got the name and address of the club he frequents. Shall we return to the office?”

  Annalise scanned the factory for Samson. He was already retreating to his workstation. She groaned. She had to get her head out of the clouds. This case was going to launch her career path in the HPD. They couldn’t go back empty-handed.

  She deactivated the recording on her wrist comms. “Let’s visit the Red District.”

  Mavel’s eyes widened. “Annalise, we’ll be breaking the rules of conduct if we head there without backup.”

  “We can’t return with nothing. You’ve seen the way Chief looked at me this morning.” She turned and scaled the metal stairs. “We need a solid lead.”

  “Anna—”

  “I’ll take the blame if it goes wrong.”

  Once they left the factory, Mavel grabbed her hand, jerking her aside. He pressed her against their car and eyed her with worry. “This is not a game.”

  “I know it’s not.” He was too close for her liking. Near enough that if she reached up, she could pull him in for a kiss. She avoided his stare. There was no way that would happen.

  “Anna, please don’t do this.” His voice cracked, and she looked at him.

  In his eyes, she saw her reflection which reminded her of how wrong her feelings for him were. After all, they could never be together. Her life, her family, everyone she cared about would suffer because of it. With an aching heart, she locked away any unwelcome wishes his presence stirred in her.

  “This is an order, Mavel. We are going to the Red District.”

  His warmth vanished as he took a step back. “As per your word, mistress, I will obey.”

  Stormy clouds hung over their heads, covering what could have been a beautiful sunset. Darkness crept over the city as they drove north through the straggly streets of the Green District and towards the Red.

  Mavel parked the car a few blocks from their destination. Police were not welcome in the Red either. Over the years, she had read news reports of over two dozen officers going missing after entering this part of the slums. Their bodies were never recovered and random searches turned up nothing.

  “My family’s home is nearby. We should get changed there,” Mavel offered.

  She glanced at her clothes. “What’s wrong with this?”

  He nodded to the stone archway ahead. “Even a blind man would know you’re a cop the instant you step over that line.”

  She couldn’t contain the blush creeping up to her ears when she saw colourful graffiti of topless women painted on the concrete walls. Beyond the audacious art, red roofs peeked out, indicating the beginning of th
e district bustling with life and neon lights.

  Mavel didn’t wait for her response and sauntered ahead. For every stride he took, she had to take two. He still seemed mad about her earlier command.

  “Slow down.”

  “Why not order me to carry you, princess?”

  It struck a chord. She tried kicking him, but he caught her leg. The heat from his hand seeped through the material, and her skin tingled where he touched her.

  “Mavel…”

  This was no time to play games. They were in the middle of the slums, and their goal hadn’t changed. Finding Robert’s co-worker in some shady club was her priority before heading to the office, hopefully, with something better than a boring statement.

  He let go of her leg and strode ahead, slowing his pace enough for her to keep up.

  “So, tell me about your family,” she said.

  “You already know about them.”

  Annalise nodded, trying to recall the details she had read in his dossier.

  They rounded the corner, and he unlocked a gate to one of the terraced brown houses that were mashed together under a single grey roof. Of all the things to be kept tidy, the grass patches were populated with flowers and herbs. She knew Mavel loved gardening, but since they returned to living in Tower One, he could only keep his plants in ceramic pots.

  He knocked on a beaten wooden door. After a drawn out minute, a woman in her late fifties opened it. Her silver irises were the same as Mavel’s—weighed down by an emotion Annalise couldn’t identify.

  “Is everything alright, son? Who is this?” the woman asked.

  Mavel cleared his throat, and Annalise gave her best professional smile. “I’m Annalise Storm.”

  “She’s my boss, Mum.”

  “Oh,” his mother said, letting them in. She ushered them into a cosy living room. Potted plants filled any free space by the window. A sizeable variety of cacti were arranged on her windowsill.

  They sat on the sofa while his mother ran into the kitchen and returned with two glasses of water. She offered them their drinks.

  “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d have visitors,” she said. “I’m Christine Green, nice to finally meet you.”

  Annalise gave a nervous smile. “Same.”

  Although this was most likely the long-awaited get-together between Mavel and Christine, Annalise sipped her drink, tasting the metal in the unfiltered water. She nudged her partner with her elbow.

  “Mum, we aren’t going to be here long. We just need a change of clothes to enter the Red District.”

  Christine’s brows lifted a notch. “You and your owner want to…”

  “No!” he protested with raised hands. “This is work related. We’re looking for someone.”

  “Alright, come along then.” Walking out of the room, she added, “Mavel, go into your father’s room and pick out what you want. As for Miss Storm, my daughter’s clothes will fit you well.”

  Annalise entered Mavel’s sister’s bedroom. Not a single thing seemed out of place.

  Christine rounded the bed and pulled open the door to a large walk-in closet. The lights in the closet’s floor and ceiling blinked awake, and she set foot in it. With a tug on the handle, a rack of clothes glided out of the wall. For someone living in Green, this was quite an expensive piece of furniture.

  “Don’t look so surprised, dear. My husband gets paid well in Silver. The only reason we live in the slums is because of the Segregation Act. As a worker, I can’t move into Silver to stay with him.”

  Annalise’s heart squeezed. There was nothing she could say to lift the mood, so she remained silent. The restrictions were placed on the districts long ago. Although the Golden District had tall walls isolating it, other parts of the city were more accessible. Yet, if a worker was found in the Silver or Golden Districts, they would be severely punished. To this day, she still struggled to understand such logic, but it was the law she had to uphold. Law was what kept their society from erupting into another rebellion. Her brows furrowed. When did she start thinking like her father?

  A pile of folded clothes landed in Annalise’s hands.

  “Try these on,” Christine said and exited the room.

  As she unfolded the material, Annalise’s frown deepened. The top layer, or so she assumed, had a low cut on the front, or was it the back? The only thing holding the two pieces of silky ebony material together was a chrome chain in the middle which prevented the wearer from indecent exposure in public. But, if that wasn’t the front, then her breasts would be on display. She stared at the items for another long minute with a growing headache.

  In her mind, a tiny voice cheered her on to wear something so daring to see Mavel’s reaction. Ignoring it, she set the fabric on the floor and studied the other piece of clothing in her hands. It was too big to be a belt and there were no buckles. Yet, it was too short to be anything else. Annalise placed it against her trousers. It didn’t cover much. It couldn’t possibly be a skirt.

  “Are you ready, Anna?” Mavel asked.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin. Biting her lip, she looked around. He had to be in the bedroom, but she couldn’t place where. “I’m not sure if I can wear something so…revealing. The dress-code for social gatherings here must be quite different…”

  “You wanted this, although it’s still not too late to stop this farce.”

  He had a point. But, the idea of going into the Red District made her heart hammer against her chest with excitement. It doubled when Mavel stepped into the closet with her. His body blocked the entire entrance. He had changed into a green tank top that hugged his well-defined muscles, black cargo pants, and heavy boots. His shoulder-length hair was down, released from the restraints of a hairband.

  Those impressive eyes held her captive. “Are you afraid to look like one of us?”

  “It’s not that. I just—”

  He drew close, towering over her. This was the first time she felt intimidated by him and just as aroused. To keep her hands to herself, she clasped them behind her back.

  “Just what?”

  Annalise swallowed, trying to wet her suddenly dry throat. Her fingers gripped the skirt and heat climbed her neck, painting her cheeks rouge.

  How am I going to tell him that I have no idea how to wear these clothes?

  His stare carved holes in her. She had to say it. He was obviously annoyed with her lack of understanding.

  “I don’t—” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. “I don’t know how to put these things on.”

  Quiet fell over them, and she dared to steal a peek at him. He held his sides, desperately trying not to laugh out loud.

  Annalise pursed her lips and swatted his shoulder. “This is not funny.”

  “I can’t help it. You are too adorable,” he said, his laughter filling the cramped space.

  So, maybe he wasn’t mad anymore. She readied another punch.

  “Alright, princess. I’ll stop teasing you, but if you want me to dress you…”

  “I swear I will cancel our contract if you add one more word!”

  Mavel held up his hands and pointed to his lips with his left index finger. He mumbled something only she couldn’t understand what.

  “What is it now?”

  “I could ask my mum to help you.”

  Beetroot-red, she pushed him out the closet. “I’ll do this myself.”

  “Is something wrong?” Christine’s soft voice filtered into the room.

  Annalise sighed. This was turning into a family gathering to see a pureblood squirm.

  Mavel whispered something to his mother. When Christine let out a mirthful laugh, Annalise ran her hands over her face. Great! I’m the entertainment for the night.

  Christine’s head reappeared in the closet with a playful smile. “Don’t worry, dear. That thing you are holding is a skirt and the other piece is a top you put on with the metal bit on the front. You can pick out any boots you like from the bottom shelf to match.”


  Annalise decided not to stick around for too long and changed, adhering to the woman’s instructions. When she finished, the clothes felt…airy. There was so much skin showing, she would be arrested for indecent exposure in every other district.

  Mavel waited for her in the living room. A smile lit his face as he chatted with his mother who handed him a sandwich.

  Annalise put on a cream leather jacket she had discovered and shoved her badge in her pocket. Holding her pistol, she stared at it with longing. “Where can I put it?”

  Mavel swallowed his food. “You can’t take it with you. They do a scan at every club prior to admission. If they find out you’re part of the DPD, and they will when they see that gun, then we will have a tough time getting out.”

  Annalise retrieved her badge from her pocket. “What about this?”

  “Leave it here.”

  “That’s against procedure…”

  Mavel arched a brow. “I believe we’re already past that.”

  She shot him a glare but, nonetheless, took his advice, leaving everything with Christine. Soon after, doubts surfaced. Why was he so knowledgeable about the Red District? She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer to her unspoken question and remained silent. After all, he had his free time and, as an owner, she had no right to pry.

  They returned to the arched entrance of the Red District. Vibrant moonlight filtered through the thickening veil of clouds. As if to not discourage people seeking fun, three alabasters relaxed against the wall, all wearing similar clothing to hers.

  Mavel pulled Annalise into an embrace, and she gasped.

  “Hush,” he whispered into her ear. “We don’t want them to get even a whiff of authority out of you.”

  Stilling, she clung to the material of his top. “Then what should I do?”

  He ran his hands from her shoulders to her lower back. His touch warmed her through her jacket, and she buried her face in his chest to hide her embarrassment.

  “Relax, princess. Remember, you are not an officer right now. You are a pureblood who wants to break the mould and loosen up.”