Chapter 8 - Flashing Red and Blue
The cruiser pulled up sharply to the curb outside the service entrance of the St. Jude Grand Ballroom, its engine idling with a low, authoritative rumble. The passenger door swung open, and Officer Ramirez—a veteran beat cop with a tired face and a sharp eye—stepped out onto the pavement, his hand resting casually on the holster of his belt. His gaze immediately locked onto Maya, noting the torn jeans, the dark tank top, and the fresh bruises blooming across her cheekbone.
"Hold it right there, miss," Officer Ramirez called out, his voice carrying the practiced authority of someone who had seen every version of midnight chaos a city could offer. "We got a silent panic alarm triggered from the loading dock, and you match the general description of the trespasser reported by management."
Maya didn't run. She stood perfectly still under the flashing red and blue lights, raising her hands slightly to show she was unarmed. "I didn't trigger any panic alarm, Officer. I was just trying to leave the premises safely after being assaulted downstairs."
Ramirez approached slowly, his eyes scanning her bruised arms and dirt-stained sneakers with professional skepticism. "Assaulted? By whom? Management claims you forced your way into a private wedding reception and threatened the guests."
"Management is currently trying to cover up a multi-million-dollar inheritance fraud," Maya replied steadily, her voice entirely devoid of panic. "If you want to talk about assault, you should check the underground parking level. Marcus Vance is currently sitting by the freight elevator with a fractured kneecap after trying to cave my head in with an iron pipe."
The officer’s eyebrows rose skeptically. "Marcus Vance? The head of security for Vance Enterprises? You expect me to believe a twenty-five-year-old girl took down a trained security operative in the basement?"
"Go look for yourself," Maya said, stepping aside to gesture toward the open service ramp. "His encrypted company phone is right beside him on the floor. Check the call logs—the last outgoing call was made ten minutes ago to Victoria Vance."
Ramirez studied her face for a long, quiet moment, searching for any sign of deception or hysteria. Finding only cold, unshakable resolve, the veteran cop made a split-second decision. He tapped the radio clipped to his shoulder.
"Dispatch, this is Unit Four. I need an ambulance and backup at the St. Jude service entrance—basement level. We have a reported assault and a possible corporate security breach."
Before the dispatcher could respond, the heavy glass doors of the grand ballroom burst open behind them, and Victoria Vance strode out onto the pavement, her midnight-blue velvet pantsuit slightly rumpled, her face flushed with incandescent fury.
"Officer!" Victoria barked, marching directly toward them with her legal armor fully deployed. "Thank goodness you're here. Arrest this woman immediately. She is a violent criminal who broke into a private event and assaulted my brother's staff."
Officer Ramirez turned slowly to face the high-powered corporate attorney, his expression neutral. "Ma'am, before I make any arrests, I think we need to take a little trip down to the basement. Your head of security seems to have sustained an unfortunate injury while trying to enforce your corporate policies."
May you like
Victoria’s breath caught in her throat for a fraction of a second, her professional mask slipping just enough to reveal a flash of genuine terror.
---
