Chapter One

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Lisedi

"Yes, ma'am. Your son's court date is in two weeks. Now, it is not my job to issue reminders. It's his to remember. As long as he is there then he's good, okay? If he misses, a warrant will be issued for his arrest. He will either turn himself in or I apprehend him. I have faith that we won't run into those issues. Alright, thank you. You have a good day as well. Okay, bye bye."

I let out a gentle sigh once I hung up. My fingers played with the stray curls that fell around my crown.

Contacted Friday @ 10:45 am -LS

It was important that I kept record of when I made calls to clients and when they contacted me.

My second year as a bail agent. My first and only job after graduating college. I had a plug. My uncle, Jet Scott, owned the place with twenty plus years of bail bonding and bounty hunting under his belt. The top company in the city. He only employed those who he trusted: family. He, along with my three cousins, Duane, Randall, and Cameron, along with his wife, Carolyn, made this place what it was.

"Aunt Carol," I approached her desk with a file of papers in hand, "I just made contact with the parent of the young man that went in for petty theft last week. He has two weeks until his next court date and his parent is aware. Make sure we keep an eye on that."

She took the file and put a bright pink sticky note on the front, writing something down quickly in black pen.

"Okay, sweetheart, I'll put this back in your filing section," she nodded.

Aunt Carol held the office together. All paper work was organized and filed by her. Managing money, payroll, were amongst the things she did, along with being the voice of reason for her husband.

"Thank you."

"Lizzy!" I recognized Duane's voice.

He entered the room from my uncle's office with Randall and Cameron behind him. I could see Uncle Jet still in his office pacing back and forth on the phone.

"What's up?"

Duane continued, "Someone just called dad with a tip on this chick you wrote a bond for last month. Wendy Shriver. She skipped her court date yesterday afternoon."

"Let's go pick her up," Uncle Jet entered the room as he hung up, "The tip said she's at a friends house in Scarborough. I wrote down the address. Carol, you drive the first car. Duane and Cameron will ride with you. Lizzy you're with me, Randall you're driving."

Everyone acknowledge their assignments with a head nod and quickly dispersed to get dressed.

Being a bail recovery agent wasn't exactly the safest job in the world. We chased fugitives. The last thing they wanted was to go to jail, hence the reason why most of them skip court in the first place. They would do any and everything to evade the law. For that reason, you couldn't be too cautious. Bullet proof vest protected our vital organs from gunshot inflictions. A taser, pepper spray, and a pepper ball gun that mimicked a pistol rounded my waist with a set of cuffs. My uncle didn't believe in using bullets. Killing someone was the last thing he wanted to do when attempting to apprehend someone.

My badge had to be visible. Gloves covered my hands. I tightened my boots. All radios synced to channel one. Those were vital. Communication was key when we separated.

Scarborough had its rough parts. This was one of them. The tip led us to a worn down home that appeared abandoned. We surrounded it. I took the front with my uncle and aunt, the boys took the back.

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