Suspect on the run!
1039 Words
MARIA CASTILLO
“I'm fine, mamá.”
I tried to sound convincing, but of course, my mother wasn’t buying it.
"María, stop lying to me," she snapped in Spanish. "Your fiancé left you one month before the wedding! One month! And you expect me to believe you're fine?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose and leaned back in my office chair, staring at the ceiling. "Mamá, I have work to do. I don’t have time to sit around crying over a man who clearly never loved me."
"Good," she said, then her voice darkened. "Because Tom is a bastard. Que Dios lo maldiga! May his new girlfriend leave him for a richer man! May his hair fall out! May his—"
I groaned. "Mamá, please."
"What? He hurt my daughter! I hope he gets hit by a bus. I hope he dies wishing he never broke your heart"
I exhaled sharply. I loved my mother, but she could hold a grudge for eternity. "I need to go."
"Come stay with me," she said, her voice softening. "You don’t have to be alone."
I closed my eyes. As tempting as it was, I couldn't. I needed to keep busy. I needed to drown myself in work. That was the only way I could get over Tom. "I can't, Mamá. My job needs me."
"Your job will kill you one day, Maria."
"Then at least I'll die doing what I love."
"María, please listen to me. Tom is…"
"Bye, Mamá," I said quickly, ending the call before she could curse Tom again.
I barely had a second to breathe before my office door swung open.
Esther, my assistant, stepped in, holding my desk phone. "Call from the Director," she said, offering me the receiver.
I took it.
“Sir?,” I said.
"Maria."
The Director's familiar voice came through, dripping with amusement. "Tell me, Detective, are you still in mourning?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine, sir."
"Good, because I have a job for you."
I sat up straighter. "What kind of job, sir?"
"Meet me in my office."
The line went dead.
I sighed, handed the phone back to Esther, and grabbed my blazer. "While I’m gone, follow up on the Martinez case. See if forensics got anything new."
"Got it," she said. "And, María?"
I paused.
"You deserve better than Tom," she said softly.
I gave her a tight smile and walked out the door. I hope she's right.
“Hey, Maria,” Tony shouted from where he stood as soon as he sighted me.
“The Director's?,” he asked almost immediately.
I just nodded.
“I owe you lunch,” he said behind me.
The Director’s name was Samuel Locke, and he didn’t believe in much talk. I guess we're both alike.
The second I stepped into his office, he slid a file across the desk. "Tech billionaire Damian Keller was found dead in his home last night."
I opened the file. The crime scene photos showed a man in his mid-thirties, lying in a pool of blood in the middle of a lavish living room. His throat had been slit. It was clean…professional.
"Hell of a way to go," I muttered.
The Director nodded. "We pulled footage from his security cameras."
He turned his laptop toward me and hit play.
“A masked man entered Keller’s house at 10:42 PM. Less than five minutes later, Keller was dead. At 10:48 PM, the man exited the house and disappeared into the night.”
I leaned back. "Any leads?"
The Director clicked another video. It was grainy, but when the suspect removed his mask for a split second, his face was unmistakable.
DG Locke tapped the screen. "Meet Lorenzo Costa, thirty years old. Suave, charming, runs that fancy Italian restaurant downtown. But don’t let the smooth talk fool you—he’s got ties to the Mafia."
I frowned. "So we think this was a hit?"
"Possibly. But there’s more."
The Director tossed another file onto his desk. "The suspect escaped arrest last night. His friend tipped him off before our guys got there."
I flipped through the pages. Lorenzo had no prior arrests, no history of violence. Just a clean-cut businessman with a reputation for making the best pasta in town.
The DG leaned forward. "The Governor is really interested in this case, Maria. He wants this case closed fast. We need Lorenzo in cuffs before he disappears for good."
I closed the file and stood. "Consider it done."
The DG smirked. "That’s why you’re my best detective."
I didn’t respond. I just walked out the door.
That night, I stopped by a quiet restaurant on the west side of town for dinner.
I was halfway through my steak when I saw him.
At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. But no.
Lorenzo Costa was sitting at the bar, casually sipping a glass of wine.
He was exactly how the file described him—tall, dark, and dangerous. A black t-shirt, neatly trimmed beard, sharp eyes that flicked around the room like he was always looking for an exit.
I tensed a bit. What were the odds?
He must have felt me staring because the second our eyes met, his entire body went rigid.
Then, he bolted.
"s**t," I muttered, throwing some cash on the table and grabbing my gun. I sprinted after him, shoving through tables, knocking over chairs. "LAPD! STOP!"
But Lorenzo wasn’t stopping.
He crashed through the back door, darting into a dark alley.
I chased him, yelling into my radio, "Suspect sighted! West side! I need backup!"
I ran faster, my heart pounding, my boots slamming against the pavement.
He was fast. I was faster.
I was gaining on him when…
He vanished.
One second he was there, the next, he was gone.
I skidded to a stop, cursing. "Damn it!"
Then I saw it.
A small folded piece of paper on the ground.
I picked it up, unfolded it.
Four words, scrawled in messy handwriting:
"I didn't kill him."
I stared at it, my mind racing.
Sirens wailed in the distance, my backup finally arriving.
But Lorenzo was gone.
And suddenly, I had more questions than answers…
- Writer
