A Night-Shift 911 Dispatcher Receives a Break-In Call for Her Own Home Address, Uncovering Her Politician Ex-Fiancé's Deadly Cover-Up
👉 Previous decision: You chose to force rookie dispatcher Gabe to unlock the CAD terminal immediately.
I lunged across the console bank, my hand clamping around the front of Gabe Lawson’s cheap polyester uniform shirt. The fabric twisted in my grip. He startled, eyes wide, dropping his headset to clang against the desk.
“Dispatch Sector 4,” I hissed, pulling him closer. “Now. Override this lock. Give me your supervisor code.”
His face drained of color, splotchy red patches appearing on his cheeks. He stammered, pulling weakly against my hold.
“Ms. Lin, I can’t,” he whispered, glancing around the empty dispatch floor. “It’s… it’s a flagged address. Internal Affairs.”
My fingers tightened further. A cold dread seeped into my bones, worse than the artificial voice.
“What flag?” I demanded. “What are you talking about?”
He flinched, his eyes darting to my locked terminal, then back to my face.
“Twenty minutes ago,” he mumbled, his voice cracking. “A note came down. An alleged officer-involved narcotics stash investigation. At your address. Protocol says all units are to delay response to flagged addresses.”
My breath hitched. Marcus. He had used Gabe. Not to lock me out directly, but to create a legal, bureaucratic cage. A slow-burn operation.
“Who signed off on this?” I pushed.
Gabe shook his head rapidly. “It was a call from Mr. Reynolds’s office. His campaign manager.”
Marcus, the suave, ruthless candidate for District Attorney, was using my job and an unwitting rookie to legally delay police. Not to murder me, I realized with a fresh wave of nausea, but to find something specific. Something I knew.
He was buying time for his private enforcer, already inside 1428 Elmcrest Lane, to do exactly what they came for.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 3 to continue the story
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