Chương 134: Chapter 134: The Tough-Gal Detective
[Chapter 135: The Tough-Gal Detective]
In the morning, at the medical center.
Injured, Broderick lay on his hospital bed. His once prominent nose drooped sadly on his face. Pain caused him to occasionally move his lips, but no teeth were visible; he could only emit muffled sounds of discomfort.
This was a room specifically set up as a collaboration between the LAPD and the hospital to treat serious offenders.
Two metal chains cuffed Broderick's wrists and locked them to iron rings bolted into the concrete wall. Faint voices drifted in from outside.
Officer Wayne, who was on duty, received a phone call. Shortly after, a food delivery staff member wearing a white coat and mask pushed a cart toward him.
Wayne conducted a routine check of the food cart, finding no illegal items. He murmured, "Hurry up."
The white coat nodded and pushed the cart into the ward.
...
Once the door closed, the staff picked up a loaf of bread and placed it on the bedside table. Broderick turned his head, staring hard at this person, mumbling indistinctly, "Carl."
"It's me, old buddy," Carl came specifically to say. "I was sent to tell you not to say anything you're not supposed to. Soon, a sum of money will be deposited into your UBS account. You'll only have to spend two years here before you get paroled. You'll still be a rich man when you get out."
Broderick knew the consequences of disobedience and nodded vigorously, "I understand."
Pleased, Carl asked, "Anything you want to say?"
"Sarah! Sarah!" Broderick struggled to articulate clearly. "Take out that bitch!"
Carl had heard about Broderick's situation with Sarah and replied, "You've certainly made me anxious about marriage, old buddy."
Without further delay, Carl exited the room with the cart.
...
It wasn't long before Officer Wayne received another phone call. He glanced at the ward door, sighed deeply, and continued pretending he didn't know anything.
Moments later, an older Black man in a blue uniform pushed a cleaning cart toward the ward.
Wayne conducted another routine check, advising, "Make it quick."
The older man nodded and wheeled the cart through the door.
Wayne realized supervising an injured prime suspect was no easy job. If someone called and he didn't let them in, there would surely be trouble. If he did let them in and something happened, it would be his responsibility.
...
Inside the ward, the old man tightened the chain on the wall so Broderick couldn't move, and then he undid his blue pants.
Broderick's eyes widened in terror as he opened his mouth to scream.
The old man noticed, grinning, "Oh, you don't have any teeth? That makes it so much easier."
Broderick tried to struggle, but he was unable to move. He called out, but there was no response from the outside and quickly closed his mouth again.
The old man, well-experienced, pinched Broderick's nose.
Broderick had no choice but to open his toothless mouth.
Wayne noticed some commotion inside and gently knocked on the door.
"It'll be over soon," the old man said as he tidied up and exited the room.
Wayne didn't allow him to leave just yet but checked on Broderick's condition. Seeing he wasn't hurt, he waved him off dismissively.
The old man hurried out.
Wayne glanced at the white foam around Broderick's mouth and said, "Enjoying two hearty meals in a row, you sure are lucky."
Broderick wailed.
Wayne completely ignored him and stepped out of the ward, remaining on guard at the door.
...
At Hobart Mountain Park, it was sparsely populated in the morning.
Hawke rounded a cluster of palm trees and stepped into a clearing in the woods.
With the winter temperature being a bit chilly, Jacqueline, dressed in a wool coat, paced nervously in one spot.
When she saw Hawke, she exclaimed, "You finally made it!"
Hawke asked, "What happened?"
"Yeah, something happened," Jacqueline replied quickly. "Remember that red-haired girl Jessica I mentioned? The one from my acting class at Super Star Training School?"
Hawke nodded. "I remember."
Jacqueline's face was serious. "Jessica has disappeared. I had to take two days off for an emergency, and when I came back to class, she wasn't there. It's been three days since then."
Hawke remembered -- this was the second one.
He recalled something and asked, "Did you ask around?"
"No," Jacqueline replied, having worked with Hawke a few times and learning to follow instructions carefully. "I remember your words: just watch with your eyes and don't ask with your mouth."
Hawke reminded her again, "Don't ask around. Focus on your classes and take acting seriously."
Jacqueline nodded and added, "There's one more thing. The producer in charge of our class, Guerrero, hinted to me before my leave that if I was willing to go out at night, I could land a role. But after my leave, he hasn't returned to class."
Hawke checked and found out Guerrero was Broderick's assistant. With Broderick in trouble, Guerrero was probably busy working at Ackerman Films and had no time for class.
"I have Guerrero's contact information," Jacqueline offered. "Do you want me to reach out to him?"
Hawke shook his head, firmly stating, "No! Remember, starting today, you're just a student in the acting class, and nothing else. Don't get involved in any other matters. Whether other female students disappear or not, it has nothing to do with you."
"Okay, I'll listen to you," Jacqueline replied, her lips parting as if unsure how to continue.
Seeing her hesitate, Hawke asked, "Is there anything else?"
Jacqueline thought for a moment, then asked back, "Do you remember Renee?"
"Sounds familiar," Hawke pondered briefly before recalling, "The single mother you brought in that wanted to stage a car accident."
When he helped Dwayne Johnson land a role, he had asked Jacqueline to find a companion for the staged accident.
She had brought in a newcomer, a single mother whose Black husband had bolted after their daughter was born. The daughter seemed to have congenital issues, requiring substantial funds for treatment.
This led her down the path of female entrepreneurship.
Jacqueline said, "Exactly. Her daughter fell ill, and I took my leave to go help her."
Hawke thought of Jacqueline's previous acquaintance -- a plastic friend.
"Renee is a good person," Jacqueline insisted. "Her daughter's condition is dire, and I lent her my only savings..."
Hawke understood. "Just say it directly -- asking for money doesn't need to be so complicated. We're old friends."
Jacqueline smiled sheepishly. "I'm not used to borrowing money. I always prefer to earn it based on ability." She hesitated but finally asked, "Could you lend me $3,000? The little girl is really pathetic."
Hawke had dealt with her enough to see she wasn't lying. He replied promptly, "Sure, you can come with me to get the money."
He called Edward, asking him to grab $3,000 in cash.
Jacqueline said, "Thank you. I'll repay you as soon as I can."
Hawke waved his hand dismissively. "This is your compensation."
Jacqueline didn't say anything more. Once Edward arrived with the money, she drove straight to the University of California Medical Center to find Renee.
...
Renee was quite attractive, especially with a bombshell figure, even more so than Jacqueline.
Jacqueline urged, "Hurry up and get her medication."
Renee rushed off to find a doctor.
Jacqueline sat on a bench in the hallway waiting.
After a long time, a weary-looking Renee returned.
Jacqueline inquired, "What's the situation?"
Renee smiled faintly. "Stabilized." She looked toward Jacqueline. "Once her condition improves a bit more, I'll go out and find a job. I'll pay you back what I owe as soon as I can."
"No rush," Jacqueline said politely, asking, "Have you heard any news from the charity foundation regarding the application?"
Renee shook her head. "Nothing yet. I submitted an aid application to the Ackerman Charity Foundation and have not received a reply."
Jacqueline reassured her, "The Ackerman Charity Foundation has a good reputation; there might be many applicants in need of assistance. Just hang in there."
Renee had no other options and could only force a smile in response.
...
In Santa Monica, at the Ackerman Charity Foundation headquarters,
Barack Bernanke sat in his office as Carl reported on the situation at the hospital.
He flipped through the newspaper, saying, "Broderick might face some difficulties. Sarah's father has been quite active lately, making calls to many in the circle. Those people, like foxes, don't want to get involved in this couple's mess."
Carl added, "I don't want to get involved either."
"Do you think I want to?" Barack complained, "Melissa doesn't even care, yet it all lands in my lap."
"This couple is truly twisted; one loves to watch his spouse get on with others, and the other is willing to use her husband as a stepping stone for fame."
Carl said, "Marriage is a bad idea."
Barack thought of Melissa Ackerman, considering that marriage might not be that bad after all.
Carl asked, "Should I warn Sarah Parker to keep her head down?"
"Don't bother her. For the next few months, act like she doesn't exist." Barack understood; Sarah was the center of media attention and a darling of the feminist organizations. "Their private matters are theirs to handle."
Those women might find it difficult to achieve something, but they were great at causing trouble and could be irrational when provoked.
Carl said that he still had some connections with Broderick. "Sarah's management, PR, and operational companies are likely all involved."
Barack recalled, "I remember hearing someone mention that the company managing Sarah is called West Coast Media Entertainment Studio, and the founder's name sounds like Hawk or Horner. I've heard they've been quite active lately. Do a background check and have someone warn him."
Carl made a phone call and said a few words.
Soon, he received a return call. After listening for a while, he stated, "Confirmed information: West Coast Studio is a media and operations partner of the LAPD. The background operations behind the Mules Incident were handled by this company for LAPD's image."
"LAPD?" Barack frowned.
Carl continued, "His girlfriend is Erica Ferguson from the Ferguson family, and the acting lawyer is Brian Ferguson."
Barack's expression froze: "The LAPD's rising star cop, a future big shot..."
Carl added, "Rumor has it that the lucky punk stopped Broderick from shooting Sarah. Erica Ferguson personally called the district attorney to confirm he had prevented a crime from happening."
Barack recalled, "That's right; Erica is ruthless and leaves no survivors, even taking out that disgusting little Robert Downey Jr."
Even within their own circles, that poisonous person wasn't part of their group. Even Carl looked down on him: "A junkie is just waste."
Downey never realized he died due to a line he pushed someone to jump after taking drugs.
Barack felt quite apprehensive, "Find someone reliable to remind that lucky punk not to overstep."
Carl thought of the rough men in his team and said, "I'll take care of it."
Barack nodded slightly. "That's fine."
...
In West Los Angeles, at the Artel Mountain Shooting Range,
Hawke and Erica geared up and cleaned their firearms at the outdoor training area.
Hawke unloaded the spent magazine from an AR-15 and switched in a fresh one, saying to Erica, "Your shooting skills are excellent, but you're not as quick as I am in close-quarters combat."
Erica agreed. "Men do have an inherent advantage, and you... have even bigger advantages."
"Yesterday, I met with Brian," Hawke said deliberately. "He sent us his blessings."
Erica knew her cousin well: "He wouldn't wish us happiness."
Hawke shrugged, "He wished us that during our next vacation, we would encounter 20 armed robbers."
"We need to be prepared," Erica said, loading her magazine and pulling back the slide.
Hawke understood Erica's taste well enough to say, "We should enhance our tactical coordination training."
He pointed to the training area ahead, where mannequin targets stood. "Darling, you'll take careful aim from the front, providing suppressive fire and cover. I'll flank from the side and catch the enemy off guard."
The two of them weren't able to pull off any overly fancy tactics; Erica agreed, "Let's get started."
Simulated training commenced again, gunfire ringing out continuously.
...
After exhausting every magazine, they finally finished training and returned to the changing room.
Once dressed, Hawke's phone rang; it was that Nokia he left on display.
He answered to a stranger's voice on the other end: "Hi, Mr. Osment. I'm Carl Berroth from the Ackerman Charity Foundation, and I'd like to meet with you briefly."
Hawke glanced at his gun case and replied, "I don't believe we have any business dealings."
The voice continued, "You're managing operations for Sarah Parker, which ties us together..."
Hawke pondered for a moment, then said, "How about this: I'll wait for you at Artel Mountain Shooting Range."
After hanging up, he slung the gun case over his shoulder and waited a moment on a rest bench, when Erica also came out.
"Ready to go?" Erica was headed to Silver Lake neighborhood.
Hawke said, "Someone called me wanting to meet and talk, so I set up an appointment."
He didn't beat around the bush: "Can I borrow the LAPD's top tough-gal detective as leverage?"
Erica understood immediately, "Sounds like things are getting tricky?"
Hawke replied directly, "It's probably related to Sarah. The caller claims to be from the Ackerman Charity Foundation."
Erica pulled out a tactical belt from her bag and strapped it around her waist, pulling out her handgun and sliding it into her holster.
The two of them went to the agreed front entry waiting area.
...
It wasn't long before a tall, thin-faced man walked in.
Carl scanned the front hall and spotted the star officer, Erica, before his gaze settled on the unremarkable man beside her.
This man had short black hair, a slim face, an unremarkable appearance, and a calm demeanor -- relatively easy to miss.
Almost simultaneously, Hawke was sizing up Carl and recognized him.
Hawke had seen this man in pictures and videos shot during the Campos incident; he was the driver who helped Broderick eliminate the blonde girl.
Carl approached Hawke quickly, greeting both of them, making introductions, and pulling out a chair to sit directly across from Hawke.
But his eyes casually swept over Erica's waist, noticing the gun.
A cop known for shooting people wasn't scary, but the concern lay in the fact that this woman had considerable backing.
Hawke asked, "Did you come to see me about Sarah Parker?"
Carl felt it was best not to say too much. He chose his words carefully and replied, "The private matters between Sarah Parker and Broderick are strictly between them."
Hawke chuckled, "My current job is to help Sarah make a run for the Golden Globe."
Carl understood and said, "Wishing you both success in winning that Golden Globe."
"Thanks," Hawke responded, appearing harmless, just like his appearance.
Carl stood to take his leave. "I won't waste any more of your time."
Things progressed smoothly on this front. Carl still needed to check in with Stephen Parker -- now that old codger was the truly troublesome one.
The attacks on Broderick in the media recently had Stephen's fingerprints all over them.
...
Hawke and Erica left the shooting range, getting into the same car.
On the way to Silver Lake, Erica reminded him, "The Ackerman Charity Foundation may present itself as a charity, but they act strangely. You need to be careful when interacting with them."
Hawke considered this, slightly testing, "I've heard some things about this foundation."
Curious, Erica asked, "What kind of things?"
Hawke explained, "The Savior had a former girlfriend from their rescue station. I heard her mention that the foundation often organizes health checks. Some homeless people who test positive for health issues have never returned to Los Angeles reportedly found new jobs elsewhere."
Hearing this sounded almost like a sci-fi story to Erica: "Free medical check-ups and they even offer jobs?"
Hawke said, "I don't quite believe it either."
"Don't worry about this junk; hidden dangers often lurk behind such things." Instead of it being Hawke warning the Savior, Erica turned the tables, cautioning Hawke: "When things reach a certain level, right and wrong aren't about justice and fairness, but rather the positions and standings of the people involved."
Hawke had never aspired to be a champion of justice, saying, "Good and bad are actually quite simple; those who don't stand with us are the bad guys."
Erica turned her gaze toward him, locking eyes, "Hawke Osment, do you realize how lucky I am to have met you? Your way of doing things, your way of thinking, and your physical attributes all align impeccably with me."
"The lucky one should be me," Hawke thought, his mind wandering back to Carl and the Ackerman Charity Foundation.
He knew well that these weren't issues solvable in the short term.
So, even after learning about the missing girl and potential problems with charity health checks, Hawke did nothing.
He noted everything down, waiting to grow and find the right opportunity.
...
In the following week, Hawke found himself with much more spare time at work. With Sarah Parker's reputation skyrocketing, she snagged several awards in the Hollywood awards season leading up to the Golden Globes.
Hollywood award selections never purely evaluated the work itself.
*****
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