Snow White In Chains ((SLOW UPDATES))

CHAPTER SIX

Lindsey was jacked up on coffee, despite her suave and cool actions and her business-like apparel. Gerard had left a nice suit on her for the bed and she fell in love with it. After she had struggled with the skirt for a bit (she always got confused on where the zipper should be), she couldn't help but be proud of her appearance. She was almost unrecognisable, but she loved it. She felt pretty and she felt like an important person, not just a criminal.

She was currently sat in Gerard's office chair, flipping through papers and scrolling on Gerard's laptop. Gerard was pinning up photographs on a pinboard. She tried to avoid looking at them for the most part, considering the gory nature of the photographs.

"I think I got something," she finally let out. Gerard quickly stopped what he was doing to look at her.

"What?"

"Ray Toro was an undercover officer performing an investigation. He was investigating over at the nightclub in town."

"Yeah. Lola's Poison, right?"

"Yup. He was investigating an incident over at Lola's. And I thought that I recognised Tyler and Josh. They were patrons over at Lola's. And look."

Lindsey pointed to the computer screen. She had three windows pulled up, each being the social media of one of the remaining three victims: Ashley, Troye, and Melanie. She continued her explanation.

"All were at Lola's at some point before their deaths. Now, I don't know if you're aware of this or not, I'm not sure, but Lola's is run by members of-"

Lindsey paused, trying to figure out a way to word the next statement.

"-Well, when I inherited the role of the leader of the rink, I also became the manager of Lola's. It's an alternate source of income and a good way to interact with the public without them knowing our identities."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I'm thinking that someone at Lola's, a frequent patron or a staff member, is our murderer. And I have an idea."

Gerard sat down in the chair next to her, nodding. He reached out, resting his hand on top of her's, which was laying on the table while she explained. She gave him a smile, continuing her explanation.

"You see, in the...cult, I'm going to call it a cult. Honestly, that's the best term for it. It's a cult. Once you're in, you're in for life. But in the 'cult', we have informers."

"Informers?"

"Mmhmm. People who can get information. We have one who's actually in the New York City Police Department. I don't know who it is. I never dealt with any of the 'informers'. They're cowards and looked down upon. Only in it for the money. Too afraid to get their hands dirty. That sort of deal."

"Dark."

"Quite. I've always hated them, to be honest. They're cowards who hide behind a mask. They do it only for the money. Honestly, it's terrible. Understandable. I mean, they have families and such. But they are dirty people. Betrayal. Turning on you. Stabbing you in the back. See, we aren't like that. We are honest. Upfront. Look. I'm going to be completely honest with you. I was a shitty person. I was harsh. Terrible. A slut. A whore. But I wasn't stupid. Far from it, honestly. And I still had morals. Never lie. Never cheat. If we made a deal, I'd keep my end of the deal. That was just how it went. We succeeded because we were intelligent and high-class. Crazy to say it, but that's the only way to describe it. We weren't high-class in an economic sense or a level of society. But we were high-class in a moral sense. We were good people. We made the wrong decisions. But we weren't bad people. People like us have a bad rap, y'know? People think we're jacked-up. But we aren't. We are business people. Illegal business. But a business, nonetheless. We never killed on purpose. The only time someone died at our hands was if it was an act of self-defense. Which was quite rare, surprisingly. We were calm, suave, and collected people. Sure, we could act and play the part of lunatics when needed. But we weren't morons. We were civilised people. But these informers? Far from it."

"So, you think the murderer is an informer?" Gerard asked, rubbing her hand with his thumb.

"Or connected with one. As I said, informers don't do dirty work. They merely give you the information and take your money. Murder? Out of their league."

"But what makes you think that? Where's the link?"

"Good question," she replied, "When it was released in the newspaper, it didn't say I was working with the police department. It just said I was going through a reformation program with the police department. Nothing about me working with you or going on a case. So, how could anyone possibly know that I was going to be at the crime scene? How could they have known I had befriended Melanie?"

"The informer is one of our officers."

"Or a staff member. Someone who works in this station is a double-crossing liar. They are giving information to someone on the other side."

Gerard nodded again. He was honestly amazed at Lindsey's work. He had spent months working on this case, never able to find the connections he needed to start tracking down his murderer. But here she was. She was the connection. She had all the information.

"Our next step would be to go to Lola's," she continued, "Undercover, obviously. We need to find the informer. They'll lead us to the murderer."

"You're amazing, you know that? You figured all of this out."

"I'm really not. You guys just didn't have the information that you needed. I thought to make the connection."

"And that's why you're brilliant and that's why we need you to help us," Gerard said. Lindsey looked down, averting her eyes. She was still holding his hand and she couldn't help but notice how perfectly they fit together, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. She had always been a hopeless romantic and too quick to fall in love. And God, she hated herself for falling in love with him. This was the same man she had been fighting with. The same man that snapped. What had happened? What had made him change? Suddenly, he was kind and caring and treating her like a human. Maybe it was the situation with Melanie. Maybe it was just that, a reveal that she indeed was a human capable of building a connection and hosting emotions. Of course, she was going to be shaken up. Melanie had been the first person to show her kindest after stepping out of prison. Melanie was the first one to look at her like she was a person, not just a criminal. She was a small beacon and a glimmer of hope amongst the black, saying it'll be okay. But it wasn't going to be okay. Melanie's kindness got her killed. And it was Lindsey's fault, in her eyes. That's what she saw it as. And Gerard knew that. Between personal experience and all of the cases, he knew what happened to the people left behind. He could sympathise and understand. He would make sure she'd know she wasn't alone in this. And she wasn't. Because little did she know, he was fascinated with her and how she could bring out the worst and the best in him. The whole persona of being a confident bachelor with no need for a companion came crashing down when he was around her. She just had a vibe that made you want to open up to her. She had a warm and fuzzy vibe, something that he could verify she was lacking in before. He remembered the night of her arrest, years ago. She was fighting everyone, screaming something about "protecting the girls" and "get them to the promise land" and other bull. He'd never understand and he doubted he'd ever muster up enough balls to do it. Overall, most of all, the one thing he could remember most about that night was the look she gave him. As they finally got her subdued enough to force her into the back of the police car, she gave him one final look that would be permanently burned into his memory. It was a blank stare, a subtle glare. She looked dead. All of the emotion was locked in her eyes. A burning hatred, a cry-out for help, a sense of betrayal. A look of regret. After all the things he had experienced and witnessed throughout the years, that was the one thing that kept him up at night, tossing and turning. All that time spent trying to take her down and that was the ending of it all. A glare that could only say "I hope you burn in hell".

"What's your plan?" Gerard mused, resting his free hand on top of hers. She smiled, doing the same, creating a little stack of their hands, fingers intertwined.

"We'll have to go undercover, obviously. Head over to Lola's and take a look around. Look for regulars. Find people who have a connection. Look for that missing link, y'know?"

"Mmhmm. How do you think we should go about that?"

"I have an idea. But first question. How do you feel about skinny jeans?"