Mist of Guns and Memories

CHAPTER:2

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

Nowadays, abusive households are more like a trend. If someone tells me there's no abuse in their house, I would not believe them and would demand to check their house and take their parents to therapy.

It would be a wonder to me, really.

All of these thoughts make me want to google the percentage of households being abusive.

I lay on my bed and stared at the murder board, a.k.a, my art wall. I pull out my murder board notes register from under my mattress and start examining my notes. From what I have gathered is that, Vinnie was not my biological father. He is my abusive step-father but Oliver's biological father. Making Oliver, my half-brother. I stapled the documents on the note. I flip the page to next. Furthermore, Vinnie had criminal connections, I got to know that from Eric— Eric has connections I don't even want to know of. I staple the evidence to the note. Next, I have to find my father. I staple the burnt picture of him that I found from my mother's closet. I took a picture of it and set a reminder in my brain to transfer it into a USB. But who and where is he? And where to start?

A soft knock at my door forces me to hide the register and to look up. Oliver stood at the door with teary eyes and a red nose.

"Hey. What's wrong, little guy?" He sniffles. I opened my arms, and he ran towards my embrace. I pull us under the covers and lay back.

I ran my hand on his head and hum a tune to him. After a few moments of silence, he speaks, "Katherine, we don't have the same father, don't we?"

My hand halts. "Who said that to you?"

"I read your notes."

"Ollie. They are my notes. My research could be wrong. And how many times have I told you not to touch my things?"

He pulls away and frowns at me. "I'm 14 years old, I know what those documents mean."

I sigh and pull him back in my arms. "Don't tell mom."

"I won't."

I ran my hand through his blonde hair, and he sighed. "Don't leave me." He pleads.

"Never." I kiss his head and hug him tight. "Now, sleep, kid."

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

"Ow!"

"Shh. You're gonna get us caught."

"I hit my head. At least show some care."

"I don't care. Hush now."

"Crazy woman." I heard Eric mumble with a pout.

I rolled my eyes and told him to army crawl. We fixed Ghostface masks and were flat on our tummies and forearms flat on the floor. New Jersey's police station was not a small police station. It was bigger than usual police stations. But, they decided to put only one guy for night duty, Gary.

Gary is a bubbly cop that performs his duty well by eating donuts and watching YouTube at the reception desk. Eric had duplicated his ID so we could enter any room. I felt sorry for sneaking in the station of this would cause him to lose his job, but he should've been alert as well.

We army crawled to the records room and put Gary's ID copy on the sensor. It glowed green as well the a light above door, then granted access. We stood up on our feet. We entered the room quickly to face numerous shelves of drawers with case files and boxes of bigger cases.

Eric groans. "We don't have all night to search all these files. There's gotta be a computer in here."

"Let's look for one." I went left, and Eric went to right. I turned on my flashlight and read the drawers and boxes names.

Rebecca Jenson

Andrew Butler

Scott Lance

I flashed the light on shelf's tag.

Serial Killers

A chill shudders my back, causing goosebumps. After two shelves of serial killers and nine shelves of murders, there comes three shelves of cartels and two shelves of mafia. I don't know what intrigued me, but my I went to cartels' shelves first. Instead of opening the drawers, I read the tags on the boxes.

Colombo Cartel

Gulf Cartel

Anderson Cartel

Delta Cartel

Bonono Cartel

Wends Cartel

Ciavarella Cartel

My eyes lingered on Ciavarella Cartel. I hiss. A needle pinches me in my brain, like the point of thorn is not ready to show itself completely. A migraine settles in my head, like a hammer is slammed on my skull.

"Katherine?"

"Yeah?" Eric flashes his light at me. "Okay?"

"Yeah. You found anything?"

"Well, I was not reading the files or anything, but I found an old computer. And it's plugged in and working." He smiles.

We both surround the computer and log in through Gary's email ID and password. I plug a USB with the picture of my father in it. I put his picture on the database to scan it.

A loading dialogue box appeared with 3% written at the bottom of the loading bar.

"Did you find anything from the shelves?" Erc asked.

"Nope. But I have a feeling -" i shut up when I heard whistling and keys. Eric and I snapped our necks at each other with eyes wide.

"Gary."

"Gary."

I glance at the screen, which said 75%. "Come on." I gritted, with anxious jitters flowing in my body. Eric hides behind the shelf to look at the door. "Katherine, hurry up."

"Hold up. It's almost done."

82.5%

Gary's footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the records room. "Huh? Why's the light glowing? Did someone forget to lock it?"

"Hurry up, Sarge." Eric whisper shouts.

"It's a machine, Eric. It's trying its best!" I hissed at him. Eric deadpans.

99%

"Who is in there? I got a gun."

Eric grabs me by the arm and hols me up. "Wait. It's 100%." I piped.

Kite Ciavarella.

My face falls as I stare at the picture of Kite Ciavarella on the screen. It was a younger picture of him compared to the one Mom had. Brown eyes and brown hair stared right back me. I had so many similar features. Eric pulled out the USB and dragged me away and hid us behind a shelf.

The door slammed open, "NJPD. Show yourself." Gary slowly moves forward.

I tap Eric's shoulder and motion him to follow me. He grimaces but follows me anyway. I reach the cartel shelf and motion him to grab the Ciavarella box.

"I know you're in here."

Ignoring Gary, Eric grabbed the box quietly. We tip toed to the door and ran through the hallway to the front door.

"Hey! Come back!"

Without looking back, we ran towards the street. Eric parked his Jeep Wrangler. We breathed heavily.

"Soooo." He slouched in his seat, hands on the wheel. "Whats his name?"

"Kite Ciavarella. And I think he runs a cartel."

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧