Page 44 of Divine Obsession

Phones ringing left and right. Loud talking and shouting. People coming and going; some eating at their desks, going through folders, or answering calls.

I didn’t bother to knock on the door with a sign readingChief of Department; I stormed in.

“Miss Moretti, what a pleasure,” Chief Johnson drawled from his chair behind the desk, not even bothering to look up. It was anything but a pleasure for either of us.

I sat down on the chair opposite his desk like I owned the place. “Any updates?”

“If there were, I would’ve let you know.”

“Must I remind you that my father is paying you very serious money to find Maria Pérez and bring her home?”

His hands hit the desk. “You got any idea what kind of strings I’m pulling for you and your father? I got twenty Detectives from the FBI’s Missing Persons Unit out looking for this girl.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s not enough.”

“She’s nowhere to be found. She’s gone.Poof. Nothing.”

“Not my problem–”

“Niente.”

Did this motherfucker just speak chopped Italian to me?

Pushing off the chair, I set my hands on his desk and leaned down, towering over him. “Let me make this perfectly clear for you, Chief. If you don’t find her, it’s your head on the fucking line.”

“I think you mean my career,” He scoffed, taking a sip of coffee.

I smirked. “No.”

Ring.

The phone on his desk disturbed the silence, though I didn’t look away or back off once.

He swallowed dryly, pulling on his collar and answering the call. “What?”

It was only a moment before his eyes met mine again.

And I knew.

“Alright. We’ll be right there.” Hanging up, he turned to me. “Miss Moretti, please come with me.”

My heart seized to beat as I followed behind him, unaware of how I was moving my feet. I floated, a horrible feeling clouded over me as we entered the evidence room.

Three cops and two specialists wearing lab coats were already waiting for us.

“We found this washed up on the shore of South Beach,” One of the officers spoke.

The woman in a lab coat opened up the black Nike backpack, which I recognized immediately. Inside, soaked dollar bills, some ruined school notebooks and a wallet.

Herwallet.

Tears prickled at my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall.

The specialist carefully opened up the wallet with her gloves, allowing me to look inside.

Maria’s ID.

A tightness formed in my chest, climbing up and squeezing around my neck.

---