Page 20 of Hurting Hunter
Hunter's attention sharpened, and his fingers tightened around his cellphone. The pieces started clicking into place, aligning with disturbing clarity. He leaned forward and braced himself with his elbows on his knees. Dirty cops, criminally involved politicians—these were not just random elements; they were the very entities he'd been tracking.
"That sounds a lot like what I’ve been digging into,” Hunter found himself saying. “From the digital side, I mean. There's a network, Ethan. It’s bigger than just street-level crime. It’s reaching right up into the places that are supposed to protect us.”
Ethan was silent for a moment. “You think we might be looking at the same beast from different angles?”
“Sounds like it,” Hunter confirmed. A sense of solidarity formed as he realized their separate battles were perhaps fronts in the same war. “These threads I’ve been pulling at... they’re leading to some high places. Some of the traffic patterns, money flows, they hint at connections that no one wants to talk about.”
Ethan exhaled sharply. “I had a feeling. Green and I, we’ve seen things. Records that don’t add up, arrests that don’t go anywhere, cases that get quietly dropped...”
Listening to Ethan, Hunter felt a chill snake down his spine. “We need to be careful,” he cautioned. “Whoever is behind this, they won’t take kindly to being hunted.”
“You’re right,” Ethan agreed, but Hunter didn’t miss the hint of steel threading through his words. “But now that we know there’s a connection, we can cover more ground together. You keep an eye on the digital footprints, I’ll handle the streets.”
Hunter found himself nodding, even though Ethan couldn’t see. “Deal,” he replied, feeling a renewed sense of purpose energize him. “We’ll bring this whole dirty network down.”
Their conversation wrapped up with a promise to touch base regularly, sharing any piece of information that might help connect the dots. As Hunter ended the call, he stared into the darkness outside, feeling a bond with Ethan that went deeper than before. They were in this fight together now, each from his own battlefield, but united in a common cause. The night felt a little less oppressive, the task a little less daunting, knowing he had a partner in this shadowy dance.
They talked a bit more about the logistics of their respective battles against the darker corners of their world
“Get some rest,” Ethan finally said, his voice low and sincere.
“You too, Sir,” Hunter replied. “Talk soon.”
Hunter ended the call, setting his phone down gently. He sat back, allowing himself a moment to reflect on their conversation.
As he powered down his monitors, the room dimmed, leaving Hunter in the soft glow of the city lights filtering through his window. He felt a rare sense of peace settle over him, the kind that only came from knowing someone was out there who understood the weight he carried. With a final look at the quiet screens, Hunter pushed himself up and headed to bed.
Chapter 15
Ethan stood by the window in the precinct, watching the city wake up. He sipped his coffee, the bitter liquid barely registering as he mulled over the updated orders that had come down from the top. Just when he thought he was getting close to breaking significant ground on the trafficking ring, he'd been sidetracked. He was reassigned to investigate a series of crimes that, on paper, seemed tangentially connected to the Emerald City Overdrive.
Whatever the fuck?
He recalled his talk with their captain.
"They think the ECO's involved in more than just bike meets and bar nights." As Ethan's captain slid the case file across the desk toward him, his eyes held a steely glint. The silent command was unabated. The slight downturn of his mouth and the firm set of his jaw conveyed a clear message: This was not a discussion, but an order. Ethan understood instantly; he was to follow this new lead without delving into the whys or pushing back against the change in direction.
The captain's gaze lingered for too long, as if daring him to challenge the directive, before shifting away to hide any further hints of the underlying pressure. But Ethan could read between the lines; this felt like a diversion, a way to pull him off the trail.
Ethan grimaced as he took a swig from his now tepid and bitter coffee. His suspicions had been simmering for a while, fueled not just by odd discrepancies in case reports and unexplained delays inraids but alsoby Hunter's recent revelations about the trafficking ring leaders. Finishing his coffee, Ethan returned to his desk. His partner would arrive soon. Green had only two weeks of working left, and Ethan would miss him for sure. He wondered who he would be partneredwith next.
As he walked through the precinct, Ethan couldn't help but noticethatconversations dwindled into silence whenever heapproached. Eyes wereavertedand bodies tensed, as if everyone had too much to hide.
He had seen enough in his years on the force to read the signs: the overly careful camaraderie, the quick changes in topic, and the files that seemed to vanish just when they became too telling.
The undercurrent of tension that ranbeneath the day-to-dayoperations spoke volumes. It was in the hurriedly turned computer screens as he passed, the clusters of urgent whispers that broke up too quickly, and the flash of recognition followed by swift denial when he brought up certain names linked to the trafficking ring—names that Hunter had mentioned just days before.
It was a network of silence that protected itsown,and a system where the line between law enforcers andlawbreakers was blurred.
Ethan'smorning started badly,but as he rounded the corner to his desk, the sight greeting him stopped him in his tracks.Someone was packing DetectiveGreen's personal effects into a cardboard box. Puzzlement furrowed his brow.
"What the hell?" Ethan muttered. His steps faltered.
The officer straightened up andsmiled sheepishly."Didn't you know? The captain granted Green a two-week paid leave before his retirementkicksin. Said it was a reward for all his years of service, especially after wrapping up his last big case. You're gettinganotherpartner, a youngDetectivenamed Danielle Harper."
Ethan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Strange timing," he murmured, more to himself than to the officer. Something about the situation didn't sit right withhim. The timing wastoo convenient, and so was the explanation.
Before he could probe further, a commotion at the entrance caught his attention. A young womanwith a cascade of unruly red curls and striking bright green eyesapproachedhim. She was laden with a large cardboard box in her arms, balanced precariously against a bulging messenger bag slung over her shoulder. Her stride was a mix of determinationand barely contained chaos.
