[Chapter 46: Genuine Feelings Exist in the World]
In the morning, Hawke jogged out of the ranch park.
At the park entrance, Frank, who was begging with a hat in front of him, waved to Hawke and reminded him, "Looks like someone's looking for you. That girl's got a great figure."
Hawke had already seen her, just across the street at the studio entrance -- a girl with golden-brown hair in a ponytail, wearing jeans, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.
Frank asked, "They're not looking for you, are they? Make sure to introduce me!"
Hawke replied sarcastically, "What's up? Is your ex-wife too few to not drive you crazy? You want a repeat?"
Frank scoffed, "I'm free as a bird, all by myself."
"Me too," Hawke said as he crossed Fountain Street, glancing at the girl and asking, "Officer, who are you looking for?"
The girl turned around, recognized Hawke, and extended her hand, "Erica Ferguson. We met on Santa Monica Boulevard; Julian gave me the address."
"Hawke Osment," he said, shaking hands and giving her a quick appraising look. She wasn't stunning, but she had a certain charm.
She was taller, with medium-length golden-brown hair and lightly tanned skin from the sun, thanks to regular workouts. Her athletic build featured long legs and a slim waist, somewhat reminiscent of the female athletes he had seen online in his previous life -- like Alica Schmidt.
Hawke suspected she had just entered the industry, as most of the experienced female cops were often akin to tanks -- heavy-duty tanks, that is.
He asked, "You're looking for me for something?"
Erica smiled lightly, "I wanted to thank you in person."
Hawke opened the studio door, "Come on in."
Erica followed him inside, quickly surveying the neat and tidy decor.
Hawke pointed at his sweat-stained gym clothes, "I'll go change; make yourself comfortable."
He went upstairs to wipe off the sweat and changed into a fresh outfit. When he came back down, he asked, "Tea or coffee? You're not working today?"
"No thanks," Erica replied, "I'm on administrative leave."
Hawke inquired, "Is it troublesome?"
Erica looked slightly nervous, "Just a few days off; I'll be back to work soon."
She paused before saying, "Without you, I might have ended up unemployed."
Hawke waved off the gratitude, "No need for that; it just happened that I was there and filmed it."
He reiterated his stance, "My conscience and professional ethics wouldn't let me pretend I didn't see it, leaving an innocent person to face undue blame."
Erica chuckled, "You saved me a lot of trouble. I just started working, and then I faced something like this; if the public opinion had worsened, it would've been terrifying... especially since it wasn't just an ordinary person who died."
Hawke, feeling frank, said, "I only saw a bad insect, a punk wanting to act out because of his fame, and a thug who aimed to shoot a woman."
Suddenly, Erica noticed that Hawke's otherwise unremarkable face was quite appealing.
"Oh, right, I have this for you," she said, pulling out a special card from her bag and handing it to Hawke. "My boss sent me to get it; with this, your colleagues on the road won't give you any hassle."
Hawke thanked her politely, "Thanks."
He had heard of these things before -- an LAPD special exemption card, which meant for minor issues like speeding, even if you got pulled over, the LAPD would let you off.
Erica also gave Hawke her contact information, "Within the Western precinct, if you run into any trouble, feel free to call me."
This was useful for Hawke, and he accepted it without hesitation. Just as he was about to say something more, the door banged open, and Edward walked in.
Seeing Erica, Edward was taken aback, "Boss, you work fast..."
Hawke interrupted, "This is Officer Erica Ferguson. She took down Downie."
Upon realizing she was an officer, Edward's instinctive submission took over, causing him to immediately shut up, forcing an awkward smile.
Would an LAPD officer who dared to shoot Robert Downey Jr. treat a Black man mercifully?
Erica tactfully excused herself.
Once she left, Edward asked, "Boss, you're not considering her as a girlfriend, are you?"
"Are you kidding? Having an LAPD around us is just asking for trouble." Hawke deftly pulled Edward into his scheme, hinting, "Erica is a patrol cop in West LA, the area where celebrities gather. We might find ourselves needing her one day."
Edward, with a mind full of lewd thoughts, grabbed Hawke's sleeve, "For our business plan and the studio's future, Boss, you need to make a move."
Hawke brushed off the craziness, tossing an envelope to Edward. "Your bonus."
Edward pulled out a thick stack, "Five grand? That's a lot!" He scratched his head, "Boss, I didn't do much; just followed someone."
Hawke explained, "I got more. If you don't take it, I won't feel secure."
Edward grinned widely, "For your peace of mind, I'll take it."
Hawke left the studio, and after disguising himself, he used some connections from his past life to exchange some cash. He then rented a safe house near Manhattan Beach in Venice and also rented a speedboat for a long time at a private dock.
No matter how well you plan, unexpected events emerged during execution.
Always keep a backup plan in mind.
...
Sherman Oaks, hillside mansion.
Matthew Broderick finished a phone call and collected the day's newspapers; the headlines were all about Robert Downey Jr.
Sarah Parker entered with coffee, bent down, kissed her husband, and said, "It's only been a few days since we last saw him, and he's gone to see God."
"I warned him several times during the The Singing Detective shoot to quit that stuff," Matthew Broderick said, taking a sip of coffee and bluntly adding, "The bugs deserve their fate."
Sarah asked, "After Downey gets high, he becomes quite bold."
The couple avoided drugs, having found more interesting games to engage in. Matthew sighed, "It's such a shame..."
Sarah, puzzled, questioned, "You just said those bugs deserve their fate. Why the sudden change of heart?"
Matthew put down his coffee cup, pulled Sarah onto his lap, and said, "I was planning for you to invite Downey out so we three could go on a trip, experience a different kind of life, but unfortunately, before we could even act, he went to meet God."
Sarah tightly wrapped her arms around Matthew's head, reminiscing about the unique thrill they had tried recently.
The dirty environment of Hollywood, along with the unique position of the producer in a film crew, brought out a sickly side of Matthew Broderick. He hugged his wife tightly, saying, "I know what you're worried about, but darling, you have to trust me. I will always love you, willing to give everything for you."
Sarah wasn't as twisted as Matthew but shared his craving for that exhilarating edge and valued the resources Matthew Broderick the producer could provide. At that moment, she delivered a powerful performance, "I will always love you too."
Suddenly, the ringing of a phone interrupted their impending passion.
Matthew stepped out to answer the call, coming back with a furrowed brow.
Sarah asked, "What happened?"
Matthew explained briefly, "Due to the negative impact created by Downey, the distributors are dropping The Singing Detective. The company will need to look for a new distributor, and it's likely the movie will go straight to DVD and video."
He gathered his things, "I have to go to a meeting at the office."
Sarah handed him his briefcase.
...
Matthew Broderick drove off towards Santa Monica, where the company was located.
As he went through an intersection, he spotted a familiar figure driving a Bentley past him.
Matthew glanced back, recalling it was Deborah Falconer, who had just lost her husband.
The Bentley entered Brentwood, and Deborah returned to her familiar home.
The spacious mansion was empty.
Despite everything, Deborah felt no sorrow -- only a sense of relief and liberation. If it weren't for the inconvenience, she might have even thought of thanking the LAPD officer.
She wouldn't waste time, energy, or money on a divorce; she would inherit the estate directly.
As for her ex-husband, Deborah could only think: the bugs deserved death.
Entering the house, she looked around and noticed the watches and some valuables in the collection room were gone.
Linking that to Downey's reckless attitude, Deborah wasn't surprised.
She figured there was a day he'd dare to mortgage them for drugs.
In this place, the house remained the most valuable asset.
Just then, her lawyer called, informing her to come handle the identification and inheritance paperwork.
She stepped outside and drove away.
At a Brentwood intersection, Edward drove Hawke's newly purchased used van, raising his camera to snap photos of Deborah's car until she vanished from view.
Rich, beautiful, with a big house.
Edward realized his boss had really done a stellar job choosing such a candidate for him.
In that moment, he felt that in this cold world, there was still a bit of warmth.
Genuine feelings really do exist in the world.
*****
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