Alyssa was sitting in her dimly lit kitchen, her eyes fixed on yesterday's newspaper with its glaring headlines. The article was about a dirty cop who had been released from prison. She felt her anger growing inside her, and her body ached with frustration. She reread the article and spat on it.

 

Penny hesitantly replied, "It sounds yummy, but the Chief is standing right here."

 

Allie groaned. "Fine. What's so important that he had you call but still stood over you to listen?"

 

Penny hissed, "Allie, he can hear you!"

 

"Penny, he gave you the dirty job of calling me because he knew exactly how I would react." Allie raised her voice and yelled, "It's my day off, and I'm not coming in even if your mother died."

 

"Oh, Allie. That's disgusting, and I'm not repeating it."

 

"Not to worry, girlfriend. He heard me," Allie said with a smirk.

 

Chief Richard Harrison's appearance still commanded attention despite being out of the field. His tailored clothes concealed the fading muscular arms and tight abs, but his rugged look and caveman attitude remained, especially when he had a specific goal in mind. His husky voice was rough and deep, demanding attention from those around him.

 

He stretched out his left hand, revealing a long scar on his pinky finger. Penny immediately placed the phone in his hand, almost as if she had no choice but to obey his command.

 

In a drill sergeant-like manner, he barked, "Hayden Park at noon. I'll take two of those tacos with extra sauce." With that, he broke off the conversation.

 

As the Chief returned to his office, Penny wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue in disgust. "Those were my tacos!" she muttered under her breath, feeling frustrated by how Harrison had taken charge of the situation.

 

*****

 

The warm air enveloped the rooftop, which was bathed in a golden glow from the morning sun rays. The turquoise blue pool in front of him sparkled, and potted plants and flowering bushes surrounded it. A giant dolphin rose from the center of the pool, spouting water, and the view was breathtaking. He could see lush green hills extending into the horizon and the city nightlife bustling beneath his seventh-story penthouse. It was a paradise that surpassed all his expectations.

 

"Man, when you said Frankie would set me up, I never dreamed of a place like this. Remind me to send him a box of cigars," he said.

 

"Frankie didn't forget what you did for him in the past. You may not be Italian, but he will always consider you family. Just enjoy and lie low for a while. I know you have that chip on your shoulder, but the grapevine has it you aren't safe."

 

"I know certain people thought I wouldn't make it out of the joint, but I did," Troy said, his voice low and gruff. He had spent hours in solitary confinement, carefully devising a plan. 

 

"Troy, this town's not the same run-down place you left. Frankie's got connections. He'll take care of you."

 

"Don't get me wrong. I'm appreciative, but there are some things a guy's got to do himself. You understand, right?"

 

The male voice at the other end of the line laughed. "You've been stubborn since we were kids and got caught stealing candy from Ole Man Jenkins. We all ran for our lives, but not you. You stood there and took his whacks from his trusty broom. He always favored you after that."

 

Troy chuckled, the memory of his childhood mischief bringing a small smile to his face. "I had it coming. We all did. But getting framed for someone else's crime never will sit well with me," Troy continued, his voice growing serious. I don't know if she was in on it, but the girl knows something. She didn't get that big promotion for nothing."

 

"Troy, listen to me. You need to stay far, far away from her."

 

"Can't do it, my friend," Troy replied firmly. "Listen, I've got to catch a shower, so maybe we can have dinner soon. You can tell me about all those women you've been chasing around town." 

 

They both laughed and Tro,y disconnected the call, his mind forming the next steps of his plan.

 

He placed another call.

 

Penny answered the phone with a friendly voice, "Chief Harrison's office."

 

"I was supposed to meet with the Chief today. I have some important documents that require his signature. Would he be in, by any chance?"

 

"I'm afraid not," replied Penny. "The Chief is out to lunch. He's taking a break from the office and enjoying the beautiful sunshine in the park. Would you like to leave a message for him?"

 

"No, that's alright. I'll try to reach him later. Thanks for your help." He hung up the phone and couldn't help but smile. "So, the Big Brother is having a leisurely lunch at the park. Maybe I can spoil his appetite."

 

*****

Less than an hour later, Troy had perused the extravagant wardrobe Frankie provided, chosen an emerald green jogging outfit, showered, shaved, and set out to find his brother in the paSeeingseeing his brother face to face sent chills up his spine. He hadn't heard from him since their last meeting when his co-workers brought him in with handcuffs. He'd never forget that moment.

 

They had exchanged hostile glares before Richard snarled, "See you in hell," and ordered one of his henchmen to take him away. His almighty brother had walked away, never attending the trial or visiting him in prison.

 

Troy almost missed his brother's presence as he strolled along the park's winding walkways. Richard's hair had streaks of gray, and he had gained a few pounds. When he finally spotted him, Troy stepped out of sight, feeling the blood rush to his head and his heart thump in his throat. He watched to see if anyone was joining him.

 

Alyssa was dressed in comfortable jeans and a white T-shirt. She had parked her car nearby and was holding their lunches—one with tacos and extra sauce and the other with two large containers of sweet tea. She had tied a red ribbon in her long hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail. She carried a folded newspaper under her arm as she walked towards the picnic table.

 

Troy, noticing her approach, skillfully moved closer, trying to overhear their conversation. He expected the newspaper headlines from the day before might be the topic of discussion. Fortunately, he could slip from one overgrown lilac bush to another until he was only a few feet away.

 

 "Nice of you to join me, Alyssa. It's a beautiful day for a picnic, don't you think?" The Chief said with a smile, gesturing towards the bench. "Please, have a seat." Then, remembering his manners, he added, "Lunch smells delicious. Can I take some of it out of your hands?"

 

Alyssa's eyes were dark and uninviting as she placed the trays on the table, followed by the newspaper. "I'm in no mood for pleasantries, Chief. I assume this command performance is because of yesterday's headlines."

 

"Come. Come, Allie. That's old news. Why would you even give it a second thought? The man did his time. What more can I say?"

 

She snapped, "You can start by explaining how a rapist got four years. With all the other charges, he should have been doing life. You kept all this from me."

 

"I don't understand, Richard. You're telling me that there wasn't enough evidence to bring Sandra's killer to justice?" Allie asked, her tone filled with disbelief.

 

"That's correct. The star witness disappeared, so Sandra's reports were deemed biased," Richard explained in a calm but firm voice.

 

"Biased? Sandra was meticulous and put her life on the line for you. She deserved better than this. Where was her backup?" Allie demanded, her frustration showing.

 

 "It was a miscommunication, Allie. The perpetrator served his sentence and is now a free man," Richard responded, trying to explain.

 

"That's unacceptable, Richard. Sandra deserved justice, and we failed to deliver it. We need to do better," Allie stated firmly, determined to ensure that this never happened again.

 

"Things happen. It's my understanding there wasn't enough evidence." Richard waited patiently, knowing her response.

 

"And now, I'm walking in Sandra's shoes, working the bars. I can't even tell my family what I do for a living. My sister believes I work as a crime reporter."

 

"Alyssa." He never used her proper name unless he wanted her attention. It worked as intended. Alyssa lowered her voice and sat. He responded politely, "That's better."

 

Troy couldn't believe what he was hearing. It sounded as if his brother was defending him. Was he mellowing? Impossible, his brother would never take his side, so what game was he playing? And the girl appeared to be struggling to understand all the discrepancies. Could she be innocent of his accusations?

 

Alyssa inhaled and looked away, staring across the park, before addressing her boss again. Her voice was steadier, more committed to what she had to say. "When you asked me to step into Sandra's shoes, I did. I wanted to avenge her death. To get creeps like him off the streets, yet here he is after only a few years. I don't understand."

 

"I'm sorry, Alyssa, but you need to remember I am your boss. I'm ordering you to keep your eyes on your job and forget about Troy Sinclair. If anything, he's my problem, not yours. The case is closed and shall remain closed."

 

Alyssa's eyes burned with anger as she fought to remain composed, biting her lower lip to avoid lashing out. "I wish I could say it's been a pleasure, but I can't," she said through gritted teeth. "Lunch is on me, Chief. Enjoy it!" She strode away from the Chief with purpose, her steps quick and determined as she made her way to her car.

 

Troy, who had been listening intently to their conversation, realized too late that he had missed his opportunity to confront them. As he watched Alyssa leave, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The Chief's words had given him a lot to think about, and he knew he needed to tread carefully if he wanted to uncover the truth.

 

*****

 

Richard eagerly bit into his taco; the crunch of the shell and the explosion of flavors made his taste buds dance. The extra sauce dripped down his chin, and he quickly grabbed a napkin to wipe it off. He couldn't help but take another bite, enjoying the satisfying combination of spicy and savory.

 

Alyssa had annoyed him, but not enough to disrupt the pleasure of his meal. He took a long swig of iced tea to wash down the taco.

 

Troy emerged from the bushes, catching Richard off-guard. "Hello, Dicky, or should I call you Chief?" Troy approached from behind, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

Surprised, Richard choked on his food, spitting it out into a napkin. He turned around to face his brother, the man he thought would be murdered in prison. Hatred filled his eyes, but he quickly composed himself and put on a smile.

 

"Well, well, Troy. I didn't expect to see you today or ever."

 

"Tsk, tsk, what an unfriendly remark for my dear brother. Hell got here sooner than you expected, I guess."

 

Recovering from his initial shock, Richard's composure was intact. "You might want to tone down your insults unless you want to find yourself back where you just crawled out from. After all, I am the Chief of Police now. It carries a lot of weight in this town."

 

"You carried a lot of power before they gave you the title. Enough to get me sent away to prison."

 

Richard shrugged. "I wasn't the judge or the jury. Besides, you should be thankful that our dear friend, Judge Williams, only gave you four years. From what I heard, you deserved much more."

 

Troy's anger was growing. He snapped, "I'm sure your dear friend was compensated royally for his decision. And you and I both know I didn't rape or murder that girl."

 

"Calm yourself! Prison life must not have agreed with you. I've heard those yard fights are brutal."

 

"I had my share of shivs rammed into my side. I bet you were well informed."

 

"Yes, they tell me that happens to rapists."

 

"Damn you, Richard! I'm not a rapist. That evidence was planted, and one of your playmates was ordered to tell that story."

 

"Her description fits you to a tee, including the tattoo."

"In case you've forgotten, I'm not the only person with that tattoo."

 

"I'm aware of that. That's probably why our witness disappeared. I suspect that Frank DiVito had a hand in it. Speaking of him, how is he doing? I heard he was responsible for your new living quarters. Enjoy them while you can because I don't think you'll be there for long."

 

"I'm not going anywhere."

 

"Don't be so sure. I've heard that the prison guards have already prepared a cell with your name on it."

 

"Funny! Some things never change. I just got home, and you're trying to get rid of me again."

 

Richard stood, wiped his mouth, and smiled. "I'll leave you my scraps. Duty calls." He turned to leave and then stopped. "I'd watch your back. Rumor has it, it's got a target on it." Richard laughed and walked away.

 

Several curse words escaped Troy's mouth before leaving the park.