Chapter - 269
The three of them—Rick, Jemimah, and Sharon—sat together in the living room, the warm glow of the lamp casting a cosy ambiance over the space. Jemimah, clearly excited to have a police officer in the house, leaned forward, her curiosity bubbling over.
"So, what's it like being a cop? Do you get to chase down criminals and solve big cases like in the TV shows?" Jemimah asked eagerly, her eyes wide with fascination.
Sharon, sitting casually on the armchair, gave a dismissive shrug, her expression slightly bored. "Honestly? It's nothing like what you see on TV," she said, leaning back. "Most of the job is routine stuff. Lots of paperwork, long hours, and the majority of what we deal with are small-ti criminals. Petty theft, disorderly conduct, things like that."
Jemimah blinked, surprised. "Really? I thought it'd be more... exciting?"
Sharon let out a dry laugh. "Trust , most of the ti, it's pretty mundane. When it cos to more serious cris, it's not always about dramatic chases or shootouts. A lot of it is piecing things together—finding paper trails, going through boring forensic reports, mobile location triangulation. That's how we catch people. It's not the flashy stuff you see on cri dramas."
Jemimah nodded, though her excitent seed to dim slightly. "So... no big mysteries or action-packed monts?"
"Rarely," Sharon replied, giving her a half-smile. "And even when sothing interesting does co up, it usually gets handed off to special departnts. We rarely get the exciting cases. Honestly, I'm not sure why they even bothered putting us on so of the cases we get. It's mostly grunt work."
She glanced briefly at Rick, her thoughts wandering. She had been assigned to monitor him, and initially, she'd thought it would be one of those rare exciting cases. But so far? It hadn't lived up to the hype. Following Rick around has been... uneventful, she mused, her initial expectations of a thrilling chase now feeling more like a slow drag.
Rick, sensing Sharon's dissatisfaction with her job, offered a smirk. "So, you're telling no car chases and kicking down doors?"
"Not for us," Sharon replied with a wry grin. "That's reserved for the SWAT teams and special ops. We get the leftovers."
Sharon shifted in her seat and, after a brief pause in the conversation, casually turned her attention to Jemimah. "So, what about you?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity. "How are you related to Rick or his father? Because, as far as I know, Rick doesn't have any siblings. And... no offense, but you don't exactly look like family."
Jemimah laughed softly, her cheeks flushing slightly as she sat back in her seat. "No, no, I'm not related to them at all," she admitted, her voice light but filled with a kind of fondness that made her glance briefly toward Rick. "It's actually a bit of a strange story. Rick's father found unconscious one day and he took to the hospital."
She paused, her expression softening as she continued. "It turned out I didn't have any recollection of my past—no mories of who I was or where I ca from. When the doctors couldn't help, Rick's father... well, he offered to let stay with him."
Sharon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "So, you've been living here ever since?"
"Yeah, he has been very supportive and caring towards " Jemimah replied. A gentle smile crossing her lips as she looked at Rick with warm eyes "Rick has been here for not very long but him being around is great" Her smile grew wider, and her eyes lit up as she spoke. "He's been so kind."
Rick, who had been listening quietly, felt a twinge of sothing in his chest when he caught the way Jemimah looked at him. There was a softness in her gaze that felt heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a mont, the room felt just a little warr. He cleared his throat awkwardly but remained silent.
Sharon's mind started to race as Jemimah finished speaking. No mory of her past? She couldn't help but wonder if Jemimah was more than just a girl with amnesia. What if she was planted here? It seed a little too convenient—a mysterious girl taken in by Rick's father, with no recollection of who she was. Sharon's instincts, whispered that there was more to Jemimah than she was letting on.
She glanced at Rick, who was sitting casually beside Jemimah, seemingly unfazed. Maybe Rick didn't even know. Maybe this was part of sothing bigger—whoever Rick is working for might've planted her here to keep an eye on him. The thought gnawed at Sharon, and in a quick, subtle motion, she sneaked her phone out of her pocket and, without anyone noticing, snapped a quick picture of Jemimah. With swift fingers, she sent it to soone in her contacts. She would have to follow up on this later.
Her thoughts snapped back to the present as she casually asked, "So, you don't rember anything at all? No fragnts of mories? No sense of who you were?"
Jemimah shook her head, her expression earnest. "No, nothing. It's like... I woke up, and my entire life before that was just gone."
Before Sharon could probe further, Rick stood up, sensing Sharon's growing suspicion. He decided it was ti to shift the mood. "Would anyone like sothing to drink?" he asked casually. "I'll grab us sothing."
Before either of the won could respond, Rick had already disappeared into the kitchen. Monts later, he returned with a crate of beer, setting it on the coffee table with a grin.
He picked up a bottle and held it out to Sharon. "How about it?," he offered.
Sharon, keeping her cool, shook her head. "Thanks, but no. I've got an important eting tomorrow morning. Can't take any chances."
Rick smirked, waving off her concern. "One beer won't do anything. C'mon, just one."
Sharon crossed her arms, her tone firm, "I'd rather not. I need to be sharp tomorrow."
Rick shrugged, not pressing any further, "Alright, no problem." He cracked open a bottle for himself and, after taking a long sip, turned to Jemimah, "What about you, Jemimah? You want one?"
Jemimah smiled softly, a bit of relief in her eyes as the tension eased. She glanced at the bottle before looking back at Rick, "Sure, why not."
Rick handed her a beer, and as she took a small sip, the atmosphere in the room beca a little more relaxed. But in the back of Sharon's mind, the questions still lingered. Who is this girl, really? And why does she seem so close to Rick?
After Rick finished his second bottle of beer, Sharon seized the mont. She figured this was her chance to get sothing out of him while he was relaxed. Casually, she leaned back in her seat and gave him a small smile.
"So, Rick," she began, her voice smooth and nonchalant, "how's your new life treating you? I an, you were just a regular guy, right? And now, suddenly you have all this luxury."
Rick chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed grin. "Yeah, it's... different, for sure. So of it's the sa, just flashier, I guess. But having a really nice place to stay, eating whatever you want—not just what you can afford—and mostly, not having to worry about money all the ti... That's a pretty big plus."
Sharon nodded, maintaining a casual tone. "Yeah, I can imagine. You ntioned once that it was all thanks to your computer or software expertise, right? Must be nice to get that kind of success from a skill you already had. So, who are your clients? What exactly do you do?"
Rick waved his hand dismissively, taking another sip of beer. "Oh, it's nothing special. I'm just a freelancer. I don't really have a specific client or anything. I find jobs through various websites, do so coding, build software here and there."
Sharon raised an eyebrow, acting intrigued. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out. Any tips for soone like ? You know, a police officer trying to make so extra cash on the side?" She winked, as if hinting she might be open to sothing shady, testing how Rick would react.
Rick, however, simply laughed again, shaking his head. "I don't know about that. You just need the right idea and the right skills, that's all."
Sharon smirked inwardly, though outwardly, she kept her expression casual. So, he's not biting. Interesting. But she wasn't ready to give up yet. She had to find another way to dig deeper, but Rick was proving harder to crack than she expected.
Sharon's phone chid with a notification, and without drawing attention, she discreetly opened it. Her eyes scanned the details: Jemimah's real na was Nadia Ahd, age 29. Contrary to her suspicions, there was no known connection to any criminals. But sothing odd stood out—Nadia had disappeared three months ago in another state. At the ti, the police had been investigating a case near her apartnt. Once that case closed and no one inquired about Nadia, the authorities didn't pursue her disappearance either.
Maybe she should tell Jemimah—or Nadia—and Rick the truth about her identity. Hmmm... maybe not, she thought. After all, she had nothing solid on Rick yet, and this woman, Nadia or Jemimah, might still be connected to sothing deeper. If she acted rashly now, it could cause more trouble, blowing up her chances to uncover anything significant.
Her thoughts were interrupted as she looked around the room. Rick was casually sipping his beer, still relaxed, while Jemimah sat nearby, seemingly unaware of the whole situation. Sharon made her decision. She wouldn't say anything—for now.
Standing up, she gave them both a polite smile. "Well, I've got an early eting tomorrow, so I should probably head out. It was nice eting you, Jemimah. Rick, thanks for the company."
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