Detective Carter's Pov
Carter sat at his desk, elbows on the cluttered wood, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
Across from him, the lamp on his desk flickered once, a weak bulb hanging on to life. He stared at it blankly until a voice cut through his haze.
"Uh... sir?"
He looked up. Standing at his side was his trainee, Officer Lopez. She held a notepad against her chest, her expression caught between excitement and dread.
"There's a scene in the Hamilton Estate." she said. "And we got five bodies."
Carter blinked once, then pushed himself upright. "Five?"
"Yes, sir."
He didn't waste another word. He grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and headed for the door, Lopez on his heels.
When they pulled up to the Hamilton estate, the flashing red and blue lights of squad cars bathed the sprawling mansion in a pulsing glow. Yellow tape cordoned off the front drive, where uniformed officers moved in and out, taking photos, bagging evidence.
Two bodies lay sprawled near the iron gate, black uniforms and rifles still clutched in their hands.
Officer Martin, spotted Carter and Lopez approaching. He straightened, walking over to meet them.
"Detectives." Martin greeted. "It's a bad one."
"What happened?" Carter asked, his tone already hard, business-like.
Martin gestured to the gate first. "Two guards down here, two more at the front. All four with clean headshots. Likely a sniper, possibly suppressed given the lack of neighbors calling in gunfire."
Lopez's eyes flickered to the mansion. "And the fifth?"
Martin's expression darkened. "Inside, is the he owner herself. She was hit on the face, one shot to the left thigh and then finished with a round to the head."
Lopez scanned the layout, jaw tightening. "So this wasn't a robbery."
"No." Carter shook his head. "The sniper alone tells you that, no robber would run with a setup like that."
Lopez frowned. "So who's the owner? And anyone in particular who'd want her dead?"
Martin flipped open his notepad. "Gabriella Hamilton. Age thirty-nine. Former business owner, she used to run a dairy factory, Quavo Dairy in Chihuahuan Desert... before it got burned to ash during a worker's strike about some few weeks back."
Lopez raised her brows. "So we're looking at a list of over a hundred suspects?"
Carter cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand. "No. There's no way dairy factory workers could pull this off. This was a professional hit."
As they spoke, a voice cut in from behind them.
"What if the hit wasn't meant for her?"
They turned. A woman with messy hair, leather jacket and a small notebook in her hand stood just inside the tape. Officer Martin groaned.
"Not you again... how the hell'd she get in?" he muttered before barking to two uniforms nearby. "Get her out of here."
But Lopez raised a hand. "Wait." Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'meant for her'?"
Harley, smirked faintly. "Wait... your resources couldn't dig that up? Gabriella Hamilton is the Air Force General Anthony Pierce's stepdaughter. Well, their surnames are different because she's using her late husband's."
Lopez blinked. "And how do you know all of this?"
Harley tapped her notebook. "I was writing a novel about her."
Carter's jaw set. "That's enough." he said. "Get her out of here."
As Harley was escorted away, Carter's eyes swept toward a corner of the mansion where technicians were stringing cables from a DVR unit. Surveillance. He motioned to Lopez.
"Come on."
Inside the surveillance room, the two detectives leaned over a monitor. Grainy footage played, showing the interior hallway of the mansion. For several minutes, nothing moved. Then, a figure slipped into frame. Hooded, dark clothes, moving with the practiced precision of a soldier.
The figure entered Gabriella's bedroom. Moments later, they stepped back into the hallway and as the hood shifted slightly, a face caught in the glow of a hallway light.
Lopez's hand shot to her mouth. "Wait..." Her voice cracked. "Is that… is that the Airforce Captain, Brooklyn Grant?"
Carter's eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to the screen. "Well, I'll be damned."
Lopez whispered, "Then that writer was right. The hit was for her father, not her."
Before Carter could reply, another officer, Officer Scott appeared in the doorway, clutching a laptop.
"Detectives." Scott said breathlessly. "I've got something you'll want to see."
They followed him to a desk where Gabriella's personal computer was open. Scott pointed to an email window.
"Untraceable sender. Message reads: You don't have to worry about seeing your father's face anymore. I got a guy named Michael Gray taking the Sky Sintel files to him tonight."
Lopez's brow furrowed. She whispered the words aloud as if testing their weight. "Sky Sintel… Operation Sky Sintel?"
Her gaze snapped to Martin, who had followed them in. "Was Gabriella in the military by any chance?"
Martin shook his head. "No. She never wore a uniform."
Lopez's eyes darted back to the email. "And Michael Gray… isn't that the same man murdered at the VACANCY hotel last week?"
Carter's shoulders sagged as he rubbed his temples. "This makes zero sense. How does two civilians have access to a classified military mission? No... how the hell does Michael Gray deliver a mission file to General Pierce?"
Lopez's voice was firm, though confusion swam beneath it. "Maybe that's why Captain Grant was here. Remember, she was charged with killing her team during Sky Sintel. Maybe this was her way of… tying up loose ends?"
"What are you saying, Detective?" Martin asked.
"I'm saying that, what if Captain Grant planned this whole mission to eliminate her squadron and now she's going against everyone who knew about her plan."
Carter nodded slowly. "That might be true." He looked around the room, eyes heavy with the weight of the revelation. "But if we're going to puzzle these pieces together, we're going to need to bring in Captain Brooklyn Grant."