Tell Them This When I Die

The Greek Mafia Leech

"She beat you...in a footrace?" The staff Sergeant glances up from his papers and looks over the desk.

Adam clears his throat and leans back in his chair. "You know she used to be a track star?" He looks over at the door, eager to get home. "State champion," he adds.

Staff Sergeant Wilkes lets out a snort. "She's a twenty-five-year-old girl," he points out.

"A very fast one at that," Adam says.

Wilkes lets out a sigh. "As funny as all this is, Hughey, we have a big problem here. You lit her up because she had a warrant out for her arrest for failing to pay a few fines, and you were able to visually confirm that she was the suspect in question."

"That's correct."

"Right. Problem is, twenty-two minutes earlier, she walked into this police station and paid her fines."

Adam blinks. "I confirmed with dispatch. They said the warrant was still active."

"I assumed as much. But our computers can take up to half an hour to update statuses. In conclusion, you had no grounds to pull her over, arrest her nor hit her, through fault of our system. Which means—" He picks up a manilla folder and drops it on the desk.

Adam groans aloud, leaning back in his chair.

"She's suing us," Wilkes finishes. He glances up at Adam. "Again."

Adam lets out a long, frustrated breath as Wilkes goes on.

"She's suing for five-hundred-thousand, claiming the justice system failed to stay up to date on the current status of her fines, which put her in serious dangerous through"—Wilkes pauses, flipping through the folder and reading aloud—"Sergeant Adam Hughes' inability to drive."

Adam scoffs. "She's the one that went through a red light into oncoming traffic."

"I know that, Hughey. But the courts won't give a shit as soon as they realize we had absolutely no grounds to pull her over. She'll get a ticket for reckless driving, she'll pay it within the minute, and she's off with half a million dollars. Not to mention that she's also suing for the damages to her car."

"She has thirty of those cars."

Wilkes closes the folder. "Look, Hughey, I don't think the department can take this kind of hell anymore. Every time we get a lead on her, she hits us with a lawsuit. Every time we get her for something substantial, she talks her way out of it in court. I'm thinking it's time to focus on other things."

Adam sets his jaw. "All due respect, Wilkes—but what other things? We're the major crime department. Criminal drug lords are what we do."

Wilkes leans back in his chair, and it squeaks a little under his weight. "We don't have any evidence that she's selling."

Adam grits his teeth. He knows it's not Wilkes' fault, and he knows his boss is probably right when it comes to the image. But still. "Everyone knows she's selling," Adam says. "Selling, laundering, exploiting—Nyx is like a Greek mafia headquarters."

"Except there's no evidence of any of those things," Wilkes says. "She pays her taxes religiously, has a license for gambling, selling liquor and all the other shit she's doing. She's clean as can be."

"Other than the fact that she's a millionaire at twenty-five. Other than the fact that every drug house we've shook down says that Nyx is the source."

Wilkes pushes out his chair so he can stand. "Hughey. I get the frustration. But she's sucking money from us like a leech, and I can't justify it anymore." He clasps his hands together. "Look. You've got guys undercover at Nyx, right? You have a big scheme planned."