A burglar
Myra picked up her bag, and decided to go wait for Greg downstairs.
She hoped he would come soon because she had already spent enough time out here, away from Nova who she was supposed to keep by her side at all times.
She had just walked out the front door when she saw Greg's convertible pulling up.
When he stepped out, she took a step back in surprise.
“What the hell?” She gasped, staring at the bruises all over him. “Did you go alone?”
He laughed and pulled her close into a hug.
She sighed and leaned into his hug, wrapping her arms round him. Why did his hug feel so natural?
“Don’t tell me truck drivers did this to you,” she said, finally pulling back. “What are they, black belters? And why did you go face them all alone? You could have been badly hurt.” And tears jumped into her eyes.
The two people she cared for the most getting hurt the same day would just be too much.
“Which do you want me to answer?” He smiled, even though she knew he was definitely in pain.
She shook her head at him, in disbelief at his recklessness.
“I did not set out to get hit,” he said. “Everyone was searching for them with Ray’s description. I just happened to follow the right trail and got to them first.” He chuckled. “I could have asked them to share a smoke with me till backup arrived to arrest them, but I doubt they would have obliged.”
“You can joke,” Myra said, swatting his shoulder.
“Ouch.” He said, his wince real now.
Myra frowned and raised her hand to push his short sleeve back.
She gasped. This was worse than she thought.
He had gotten a real beat up.
“I really hope this is not all for nothing.” She frowned and stepped back. “What did they say? Have they been interrogated.”
“No. But from the time they were cuffed, they began to claim that they had been drunk.”
Myra frowned. “What kind of drunkness would make them squeeze a car between their trucks like that?”
“They’ll talk. Don’t worry.
Myra sighed heavily. If she still had access to the precinct, she would have grilled them till they broke down in tears.
She turned to Greg now. “Has the chief said anything? We had a big fallout today.”
“What? Why?”
“I went in search of Valentina’s diary. But I was attacked, and he was not even concerned about my welfare. So we fought and I finally called him out.”
Greg was staring at her open-mouthed. “You were attacked, how? By whom?”
She shrugged. “I did not see their faces, but from the build I knew it was a man. I thought it was Aiden at first, till I saw Aiden.
“This is unbelievable. How could a burglar get into the house of the police chief?”
“A burglar?” She frowned at him. “What kind of burglar would come for just a diary? We fought so long for that dairy.”
She took the scarf off her shoulders, and Greg gasped, and looked dizzy. Then his face went dark with rage.
“You’re sure it’s not the captain or the police chief?
She shook her head, convinced that it was not. “My father has a bigger build than that, and I saw Aiden just before the intruder got away.”
“Aiden saw him?”
“I don’t think he did. The study was dark,” she said, and Greg stared at her skin, the pain he felt squeezing his face up.
“This is not right,” Greg said, shaking his head. “I am so sorry. Don’t you think you should have the doctor look at you?”
She smiled sadly and pulled the shawl over her shoulders again.
What he just saw was the lightest of the assault. She wondered what her back would look like where the attacker had kicked and punched her as if to cripple her.
“Well, you need that doctor more than I do.” She looked up in his eyes.
He grimaced and shook his head.
She shrugged, “In the end, it seems the Professor escaped arrest today at least. How are Lica and Atlas and the others holding up?”
Greg frowned and looked away. “I’m afraid that they will be let out by morning.”
“What?”
"There is no evidence. Not even one security footage and no one is coming out to speak,” Greg said.
“How is this even real? Lica attacked me just two days ago, right in front of everyone.” Myra said angrily, “How come real criminals keep getting away while the innocent suffer?”
“Well, you cannot come testify as that would blow your cover. And none of the victims are speaking up.”
“Who are they? Maybe I can talk to them,” she said,
“Myra. We can’t do anything more than this. No evidence, and no witnesses are forthcoming.”
Her shoulders sagged. “So you mean we have failed again? Tricia has never failed to unearth something. What does she think about all this?”
Greg shook his head, “I have not spoken to her since early this morning when her last article went up.”
He smiled now and Myra furrowed her eyebrows.
“Tricia is just as tenacious as you. I don’t think she will stop. You know she has her own private detectives right?”
Myra blinked and shook her head, although that made sense.
The woman was known for unearthing the truth. She must have a network she works with that does field work.
The woman had found a way to ask her colleagues' opinion about her and the day the mission was first talked about. She had to have her own people.
Myra was tempted to tell Greg about the details of Valentina’s diary, and seek his opinion about the best way to find the boy who always hung out with her on the rooftop.
But she remembered what the congressman said, and decided to wait a little.
If Gilbert Dankworth could not handle it, then she would ask Greg.
She looked up at his scarred face.
She also did not want him running head first into trouble again, so soon.