Tempting Boundaries

Five: Unease

Charlotte's pov

The morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen window as I sat down at the table with Victoria and Richard for breakfast. The warm smell of scrambled eggs and toast filled the air, a comforting start to what promised to be a long day. I stirred my coffee absentmindedly, my mind already on the day ahead and the surveillance we had planned on Robert Haines.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Richard asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. His voice was warm and rich, the kind of voice that could easily command a room.

Victoria smiled at him, her eyes sparkling as she sipped her orange juice. “Charlotte’s got some big detective work to do today, right?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Nothing glamorous. We’re just watching a suspect, seeing if he slips up.”

“Sounds like a lot of waiting around,” Richard said, his expression sympathetic.

“Pretty much,” I agreed. “But it’s part of the job.”

Victoria set her glass down and leaned forward, her tone playful. “Just don’t forget to eat. I know you get too caught up in work, and suddenly it’s 3 p.m. and you haven’t had lunch.”

Richard nodded, his expression serious. “She’s right, you know. Keep your strength up.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest at their concern. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

After breakfast, Richard grabbed his keys, and we all headed out. The morning air was crisp, a reminder that fall was just around the corner. Victoria kissed Richard on the cheek before heading to her car, and I followed Richard to his, sliding into the passenger seat.

As he drove, the city waking up around us, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Richard had always been attractive, but there was something about seeing him like this, in the quiet moments of the morning, that made my stomach do a little flip. I pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the day ahead. We got to the precinct few minutes later.

“ “Have a good day, Charlotte.”

“You too,” I said, closing the door and watching as he drove away.

With a deep breath, I turned and headed into the precinct. The hustle and bustle of the morning shift greeted me as I walked through the doors, my nerves easing a bit as I fell into the familiar rhythm of work. Tyson was already at his desk when I arrived, his face lighting up when he saw me.

“Ready to get started?” he asked, his tone energetic as always.

“Absolutely,” I replied, hanging up my coat and grabbing my notepad. “Let’s see what Robert Haines is up to today.”

The surveillance itself was exactly what I expected—hours of watching and waiting, punctuated by the occasional coffee break. Tyson and I took turns monitoring Haines as he went about his day, from his office to lunch and back again. It was tedious, but necessary.

It wasn’t until the afternoon that things took an unexpected turn. Tyson and I were parked a few blocks away from Haines’ office, watching as he returned from lunch. He was walking at a steady pace, his head down, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a man lunged at him, fists flying.

“Hey!” Tyson shouted, already reaching for the door handle as we scrambled out of the car.

I stopped him immediately. “Tyson, wait. The last thing we want is for Haines to see us.” He entered the car and sat down. “You're right,” he said. ‘We should stay focused”.

The man was shouting something, his words half lost in the noise of the street. “What did you do to her? What did you do to my wife?” he screamed, his voice thick with rage.

Haines was trying to fend him off, but the man was relentless, his fists connecting with Haines’ face and chest. “I know you’re behind this!” he shouted again.

People nearby started to intervene, pulling the man off Haines as the two struggled. Tyson and I stayed in the car even though we were supposed to intervene, we sat in the car waiting for the man to leave so we could question him. As soon as the man left and entered his car, we followed him. When he reached his destination, we got out of the car.

“Afternoon, sir. We are from the police Department," I said, showing my badge. "We would like to talk to you about what just happened with Mr. Haines," Tyson said firmly. The man reluctantly nodded and invited us into his office

Once we were in a quieter location, I turned to the man. “I’m Detective Charlotte Russell, and this is my partner, Detective Tyson Walker. We’re investigating the disappearance of Robert Haines’ wife and child. Can you tell us what this is all about?”

The man looked at us, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and grief. "I was his best friend. I found out he was cheating on his wife with another woman, and I told her about it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked gently, trying to keep him talking.

He took a deep breath, as if steadying himself. “Robert was cheating on his wife,” he said, the words spilling out. “I told him to stop, to think about his family, but he didn’t listen. He kept seeing that other woman, and it destroyed everything. His wife found out because I told her. After she confronted him, she was devastated and came to me looking for comfort… and we—we had a thing. It wasn’t right, but it happened.”

He looked down, guilt etched into his features. “Robert found out about us, and he was furious. She asked for a divorce, and after that, everything went to hell. He started threatening her, saying he’d ruin her if she left him. Then she disappeared, and now she’s missing too. I know he’s involved. I just know it.'”

Tyson and I exchanged a glance. This was the break we needed.

“Do you know anything about the woman Haines was seeing?” Tyson asked.

The man nodded, though his expression was pained. “Her name’s Emily Dawson. She works in real estate, some high-end firm downtown.”

“Thank you,” I said, jotting down the name. “We’ll look into it.”

We left him there, still shaken, but I had a feeling we’d be seeing him again. Tyson and I headed back to the precinct, the weight of the new information heavy on our minds. It was clear that Robert Haines had been hiding more than just his wife’s disappearance.

Back at the precinct, we went straight to Captain Harris’ office. He listened quietly as we laid out what we’d learned, his expression growing more serious by the minute.

“This could be the lead we’ve been waiting for,” he said finally. “I’ll talk to the DA, but in the meantime, I want you to track down this Emily Dawson. See what she knows.”

“Yes, sir,” Tyson and I said in unison.

“Good work, both of you,” Captain Harris added, his stern demeanor softening just a bit. “Keep me updated.”

With that, we headed back out to our desks, a renewed sense of urgency driving us forward. We quickly found the address for Emily Dawson’s office, and within the hour, we were on our way.

Emily’s office was in a sleek, modern building downtown, the kind of place that screamed money. We were directed to her office by a young secretary, who barely glanced at us as we approached her desk.

“Ms. Dawson?” I asked as we stepped inside.

She looked up from her desk, a perfectly composed woman in her mid-thirties, her blonde hair styled in a sleek bob. “Yes? Can I help you?”

I flashed my badge. “Detectives Russell and Walker, from the police department. We’re investigating the disappearance of Robert Haines’ wife and child. We understand you know Mr. Haines?”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. “Robert didn’t tell me he was married,” she said, her voice cool and controlled. “I had no idea.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about your relationship with him?” Tyson asked, his tone careful.

She hesitated, glancing away for a moment before meeting our eyes again. “I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”

There was a finality in her tone that told me we wouldn’t get anything more out of her, at least not today. Tyson and I exchanged a look, and I nodded slightly. It was time to go.

“Thank you for your time,” I said, handing her my card. “If you think of anything that might help, please don’t hesitate to call.”

She took the card without looking at it, her expression still unreadable as we left her office. Outside, Tyson let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his short-cropped hair. "She's hiding something, no doubt about it," he muttered as we walked back to the car.

I nodded, slipping into the passenger seat and fastening my seatbelt. "Definitely. She looked too calm, too composed. It was like she was expecting us."

Tyson started the engine, pulling out of the parking lot. "Think she was tipped off?"

"Possibly," I mused. "But by who? If she didn’t know about the wife and kid, why would someone warn her?"

He shrugged, eyes on the road. "Could be Haines. He’s been one step ahead this whole time. Maybe he figured we’d track her down eventually."

I chewed on that thought as we drove back to the precinct. Haines was cunning, that much was clear. He’d managed to keep his affair hidden from his wife until it was too late, and now it seemed like he was trying to stay ahead of us in the investigation. But he’d made a crucial mistake—he hadn’t counted on his best friend turning on him.

When we got back to the precinct, Captain Harris was waiting for us in his office. We gave him the rundown on our meeting with Emily Dawson, and as expected, he wasn’t thrilled with the lack of progress.

“So, she's obstructing you,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

“Pretty much,” Tyson replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “But she’s hiding something, Captain. We’re sure of it.”

Captain Harris was silent for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing in thought. Finally, he nodded. “Alright. I’ve spoken to the DA, and she’s agreed to let us use Emily Dawson to our advantage. We’ll approach her again, but this time, we’ll be more direct. I want her to wear a wire.”

Tyson and I exchanged a glance. It was a risky move, but it could be exactly what we needed to crack this case open.

“Do you think she’ll go for it?” I asked.

“We won’t know until we try,” Captain Harris said firmly. “We’re running out of time, and if Haines is as dangerous as we think, we can’t afford to wait any longer.”

He dismissed us with a wave of his hand, and Tyson and I headed back to our desks to prepare for the next step. My mind was racing, trying to piece together the puzzle of Robert Haines’ life. Every new piece of information only seemed to complicate things further.