Chapter one
Lawrence couldn’t stand today. Every other day was tolerable, but there was something he couldn’t bear about today. It was overwhelmingly underwhelming. He needed something to get him out of his office. Anything. His leg bounced anxiously. He sat in his office waiting for the next task to be tossed at his feet. Most likely it’d be one his employees could not handle.
High heels clicked into his office. A woman walked in with papers in hand.“Mr.Auclair, you’ve received a new file. It’s a new lead.” She spoke out, before leaving a folder at his desk. She left just as she’d entered—the clacking fading away. Lawrence sighed and reached for it. His look of indifference wavered as he read. This was interesting. His finger traced a name—Russian. That something finally answered his call. He slipped on his coat, took the file, and walked out with newfound determination.
The wind began to suddenly pick up, which caused the umbrella to be taken with it. Anastasia groaned; she had heard certain rumors about a new cop who seemed to want to find her. What an uninteresting cycle she’s placed herself in: commits a crime, and then some cop comes and tries to capture her. She looked down at her shoes, the way they'd become pleated and worn out after years of running away but never being caught. Apparently, he’s some big-shot policeman. As in, he’s the chief of police. She scoffed loudly. What would a chief of police want with her? She’ll find out, one way or another.
Perhaps a great way to have him come to her would be to cause another crime. Anastasia smirked at the thought; she decided that a quick visit to a store should be enough to have the police chief come to her—like a hungry hound coming to a yummy piece of meat all to be rewarded by nothing but another ravenous hound, feasting hungrily. Except, they’re not after the same prize here. A pack dog’s movements are precise and calculated, and a lone one’s rash and sudden. But who would prevail when the dog is left alone?
Lawrence had forgotten his umbrella. He shielded his eyes from the rain. The street was empty, yet he felt remnants of life. Apparently, this was where his lead led too. This was a waste of time—he should’ve expected that. A dumb game of cat and mouse was being played. How irritating.
“Merde.”
He cursed under his breath. Lawrence had seen no one suspicious on his way here, so the only option was to keep walking until he stumbled across something. But before continuing, an umbrella dancing in the wind caught his eye. The air pushes it towards him—how convenient. He picked it up and straightened it out correctly. He grips firmly to ensure he wouldn’t lose it to the wind, unlike its original owner.
Anastasia finally got to the store that would be today's victim. She stepped in and looked around the keychains; her fingers grazed the small handcuffs before stopping and stuffing them in her pockets. This place wasn’t her usual spot for shoplifting, but she knew people would see her. The place was small and littered with cameras, so sooner or later she’d be caught, and the second the police chief came, she’d make sure he stayed far away from her. She gasped lightly when she saw a soft piggy plush hanging alongside the discount section, where all the nonsense items went to rot. “Ma’am, do you plan to pay for all that?" A rough voice spoke. Anastasia turned around, smirking, and emptied out her pockets. Bingo. Anastasia did not move at all and instead waited alongside the man who had stopped her, where her fate would soon arrive. Right at her feet.
He walked past where the umbrella was, hoping that he would get a lead. Lawrence would start small; this should get him somewhere. He passed by many stores, asking different people if they'd seen or experienced any crime lately, and the answer was always no—a very shaky no. Lawrence took note of this, but he didn’t have time to investigate further, but he would come back to this sooner than expected. The big question was, where would a criminal that had so much popularity be hiding? Where would they go? Lawrence groaned. He turned the corner and stopped at a small store that held items that were made for tourists.
Anastasia was starting to make the situation worse by hinting that she had a gun when in fact she was empty-handed. "Ma'am, please. There is no need to become violent." He said gently, trying to deescalate the situation, but Anastasia wasn't listening; she was only focused on the hound who would fall for bait. "I don't care! I have a gun; call the police." She mocked, waving her other hand around, keeping the other in her pocket to show her dominance. She was getting bored; why did this have to take so long? Before, when she wasn't interested in having the police come and arrest her, they came the fastest but when she didn't want them, they were late. As she was about to scream, she felt eyes on her—a gaze that felt new.
High heels clicked into his office. A woman walked in with papers in hand.“Mr.Auclair, you’ve received a new file. It’s a new lead.” She spoke out, before leaving a folder at his desk. She left just as she’d entered—the clacking fading away. Lawrence sighed and reached for it. His look of indifference wavered as he read. This was interesting. His finger traced a name—Russian. That something finally answered his call. He slipped on his coat, took the file, and walked out with newfound determination.
The wind began to suddenly pick up, which caused the umbrella to be taken with it. Anastasia groaned; she had heard certain rumors about a new cop who seemed to want to find her. What an uninteresting cycle she’s placed herself in: commits a crime, and then some cop comes and tries to capture her. She looked down at her shoes, the way they'd become pleated and worn out after years of running away but never being caught. Apparently, he’s some big-shot policeman. As in, he’s the chief of police. She scoffed loudly. What would a chief of police want with her? She’ll find out, one way or another.
Perhaps a great way to have him come to her would be to cause another crime. Anastasia smirked at the thought; she decided that a quick visit to a store should be enough to have the police chief come to her—like a hungry hound coming to a yummy piece of meat all to be rewarded by nothing but another ravenous hound, feasting hungrily. Except, they’re not after the same prize here. A pack dog’s movements are precise and calculated, and a lone one’s rash and sudden. But who would prevail when the dog is left alone?
Lawrence had forgotten his umbrella. He shielded his eyes from the rain. The street was empty, yet he felt remnants of life. Apparently, this was where his lead led too. This was a waste of time—he should’ve expected that. A dumb game of cat and mouse was being played. How irritating.
“Merde.”
He cursed under his breath. Lawrence had seen no one suspicious on his way here, so the only option was to keep walking until he stumbled across something. But before continuing, an umbrella dancing in the wind caught his eye. The air pushes it towards him—how convenient. He picked it up and straightened it out correctly. He grips firmly to ensure he wouldn’t lose it to the wind, unlike its original owner.
Anastasia finally got to the store that would be today's victim. She stepped in and looked around the keychains; her fingers grazed the small handcuffs before stopping and stuffing them in her pockets. This place wasn’t her usual spot for shoplifting, but she knew people would see her. The place was small and littered with cameras, so sooner or later she’d be caught, and the second the police chief came, she’d make sure he stayed far away from her. She gasped lightly when she saw a soft piggy plush hanging alongside the discount section, where all the nonsense items went to rot. “Ma’am, do you plan to pay for all that?" A rough voice spoke. Anastasia turned around, smirking, and emptied out her pockets. Bingo. Anastasia did not move at all and instead waited alongside the man who had stopped her, where her fate would soon arrive. Right at her feet.
He walked past where the umbrella was, hoping that he would get a lead. Lawrence would start small; this should get him somewhere. He passed by many stores, asking different people if they'd seen or experienced any crime lately, and the answer was always no—a very shaky no. Lawrence took note of this, but he didn’t have time to investigate further, but he would come back to this sooner than expected. The big question was, where would a criminal that had so much popularity be hiding? Where would they go? Lawrence groaned. He turned the corner and stopped at a small store that held items that were made for tourists.
Anastasia was starting to make the situation worse by hinting that she had a gun when in fact she was empty-handed. "Ma'am, please. There is no need to become violent." He said gently, trying to deescalate the situation, but Anastasia wasn't listening; she was only focused on the hound who would fall for bait. "I don't care! I have a gun; call the police." She mocked, waving her other hand around, keeping the other in her pocket to show her dominance. She was getting bored; why did this have to take so long? Before, when she wasn't interested in having the police come and arrest her, they came the fastest but when she didn't want them, they were late. As she was about to scream, she felt eyes on her—a gaze that felt new.
