The Brokens

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Marie covered her ears as sirens rang up and down the street. After living in the crime-ridden town of Santa Oake for 7 years, she should have been used to it. But, after an unfathomably hard year, things had changed, and she was more alert than ever. Marie whipped around as the television suddenly turned on.

“Stupid remote,” She muttered as she picked up the fallen device. The screen had the phrase ‘BREAKING NEWS’ plastered all over it, but in this town no one ever needed to be told what the breaking news was-it practically followed a schedule! At least once a week there was an assault, usually three or four times a week an armed robbery, an average of five times a week there were cars stolen, and of course, every month there was a kidnapping. The television flashed to the 5 o’clock crime update. Marie stared at the face of Frederick Jones, the crime specialist. Twenty-nine death threats and counting yet he had been with the station 13 years.

“Good evening Santa Oake residents. We all know it has been quite a hard week for our police force, so remember to donate. The case of the Marie Thames k&r remains in the works,” Marie buried herself deeper into her couch. “Unfortunately, no new evidence has surfaced. To Marie's family, we hope that she is recovering well. Next, let's talk about the Oake Trust Bank Heist. In-” Marie clicked the television off and stood up.

“They’re never gonna solve it. Just the same as every other damn robbery the city ever faced.” She muttered. Marie was a doer, not a spectator. The day that they found her, she had wanted to come back out and scour the crime scene herself. Instead, her non-caring parents brushed it away and told her that she would be of better use if she told them everything she knew. In truth, Marie knew that they had probably thought it a miracle when their horror-show daughter didn’t make it back from work one day. Sure, high school was finished now, and sure Marie could move out, but in the city of Oakdale, no one had the money to move out from their parent’s house till they were in their late twenties.

“Make your own dinner!” Her mother yelled from downstairs- probably drunk, probably at her father. Marie rolled her eyes as the sound of a slammed door rattled the house. Honestly it was a miracle that Marie had survived so long. Then again, surviving is a bit different than living another day in hell. Marie stood up and pulled a black beanie onto her head. She glanced at the door. Did she want to go out, or would it be too soon? Another struggle of Marie’s day-to-day life was her chronic-indecisiveness. Marie tentatively turned the brass handle and hung her head low as she walked quietly passed her mother, who sat on the couch scrolling through the feed on her phone. Marie smelled no alcohol- perhaps it was just your general married couple fight. Marie nudged the door open with her shoulder, and let the cold wind refresh her as she walked into the night.

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Elizabeth closed her door behind her. For a moment she stood there, admiring her custom door. ‘Elizabeth and Chenny Private Investigative Services’ it read. Of course, Chenny was long gone, off to the much-higher paying police force. Of course, they usually did a crap job so that left many cases to eventually fall into Elizabeth’s hands. Elizabeth crouched down to pull out a folder wedged between her desk and the floorboards. She stood back up, and then spilled the contents onto her desk. She had only received the case hours ago, from a girl named Nicolette. The case itself was just the monthly kidnapping. Elizabeth stood up and pulled out a binder from her shelf, labeled k&r.

Everyone knew about the NKTR. The group ruled the streets and made the call for every crime. No crime ever really needed to be solved because everyone knew it was them. Three years ago, a son of some rich family had went missing, and the NKTR hacked a news station and confessed. After that, they started the habit of kidnapping one kid a month. If their demands were met, the kid would turn up, if not-well, no one in the town really wanted to talk about it.

This month it was Marie Thames. Parents weren’t rich, so the town drew from the foundation. The foundation was always there for the kids whose parents didn’t give a damn. The kid was 19, only about 3 years younger than Elizabeth. The foundation paid on day 2, kid was released day after. Elizabeth squinted at the file as she read where the girl was found- some old parking structure? That’s not their usual place… Marie thought to herself. Usually the NKTR would run the kid into a hospital, because if the police were to pick a fight, there would be too much collateral. This job was much sloppier. Obviously this person wasn’t dumb as dirt because no prints were found nor traces of DNA, but still, the chair she was found in had a batch number, which Elizabeth could follow to the source. Maybe it was a new perp?

Elizabeth looked over the photos over and over but nothing stood out to her. Maybe this would just become another unsolved case. Of course, then she wouldn’t get paid, and that would definitely be an issue. Elizabeth wasn’t exactly low income, but she didn’t like a loss of money either. Regardless, she had a feeling that for some reason, she wouldn’t easily let this go. It wasn’t exactly personal, but she liked a challenge. Her eyes jetted up to look at her suddenly-flickering light. God, her apartment was a dump. She looked back down and tucked the folder away. It would have to wait till morning. Just as Elizabeth stood up to get some food, someone rattled her doorknob. Elizabeth took in a cautious breath and quietly walked to the door.

“Who is it?” She asked.

“Chenny, and I have a lead.”