---
Tim moved around the bullpen, head down. Place had a busy, tired energy. Some officers were typing and clicking as if their lives depended on it, while others stood around drinking coffee and debating what to order for dinner.
Officer Ramirez was sitting at her desk, her fingers flying over the keyboard as if it would catch fire.
Her dark curly hair was piled into a bun so taut that it appeared ready to spring free at any moment. Officer Daniels leaned back in his chair, sipping coffee as if he didn't have a care in the world.
"Ramirez, don't you ever take a day off?" Daniels asked, smirking.
"Don't you ever do any work?" Ramirez responded without even looking up.
Daniels laughed, leaning back further in his chair. "Work smarter, not harder."
"Yeah, and when that chair tips over, I'll work smarter by not helping you up," Ramirez said with passenger satisfaction.
Tim laughed softly at the exchange but he didn't stop to turn around or pursue the girl. He saw others by the breakroom eating donuts and chatting, there were even some younger police officers. One of them glanced up and murmured something to the other.
"Look at that, isn't that the son of Detective Vik?"
"Yeah," the other replied. "The last time this person was here, the Fire Alarm went off, and there was no fire."
Tim rolled his eyes. "Judging from what they do to you, man, you break one thing, and it's never forgotten," he said to himself.
---
Urek Vik's office was a chaos of papers, half-eaten cups of coffee and all sorts of things that appeared not to have been used for years. The blinds were drawn poorly on the window and light and shadow fell in bars across the desk.
Urek himself was slumped behind a pile of papers large enough that his broad shoulders pulled the fabric of his shirt tight. He wore an unwrinkled tie, which was unfastened, and his hair unkempt blond hair which were streaked with grey. It was with one hand placed at his temple and the other hand holding the paper and his lip twisted in distaste as if the paper had offended him.
Tim tapped gently on the frame of the door. "Hey, Dad. Introducing the super cool action packed life of an officer;Hello active officer how is the life of crime fighting gripping your spirit?
Urek was a tall and thin man with sharp green eyes, and narrowing them now, he looked up. Where are you, Tim? What's going on here? And don't say you just came to visit the sick and the lonely or to make charity."
Tim imitated that he was going to fall after putting a hand on his chest. "Wow, Dad. Why can't a guy just go by and see his dad?"
"Yes," Urek agreed but she is aloof, "but you don't."
Fair enough, Tim countered, smiling. I am not stealing, I was just taking a soda for myself from the break room. You want one?"
"No, I'm cutting back," Urek replied, turning back to his work.
Tim snorted. "Sure you are."
---
Just as Urek looked over to Tim, Tim slipped back into his office, closing the door behind him so as to be as unnoticed as possible. He looked over cluttered desk, to see if his heart would race.
Tim muttered things like a cartoon villain, "Alright Dad, let's see what you've got."
He was whispering to himself and shuffling through the stacks of paper. "Traffic tickets… boring. How many cats do they report missing? Oh, here we go—Crash Report."
He pulled the file free and opened it. His eyes widened as he read the name: Marcus Kane. It was a brief but weird report. Strange vital signs and then… nothing.
Severe injuries. Nothing, no discharge, no transfer, no follow up. He seemed to have disappeared into thin air.
Quickly stuffing the file into his backpack, Tim zipped it up. The door creaked open just as he turned to leave.
Urek stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, "Tim," he said.
He froze, brandishing what was left of a seemingly random piece of paper from the vest pocket of the desk. Getting my math homework. You know how much I value my grades."
Urek raised an eyebrow. "Your grades are terrible."
Nervously , he grins and shrugs. "Exactly. So, of all the help I can get, I need, that's why."
As Urek sighed, shaking his head. "I'm getting rid of you so you don't have to spend the rest of the week filling out reports."
"On it!" He darted past his dad, the speed of someone who knew they were guilty enough.
--
Following that, Tim stepped out into the cool of the night and took a deep breath he hadn't known he had held. The stolen file burned a hole through his pack, whereas his pack felt heavier than usual.
The grinning man patted the bag. "Mission accomplished."
He started the engine on his Jeep and sped away into the night. The road ahead undulated before him and all he could manage was, "Man, Jerry still owes me for this one."
---
Tim slammed the file onto the dining table, which flickered a little with the warm light; as though it were dropping a big bombshell. There went papers across the table with one even floating to the floor like it was trying to run away from it all.
"Alright!" Its hands lay flat on the table, says Tim. His name's Marcus Kane." After the crash he was taken to Roomba Hospital, but he had no discharge record. None. Zip. He just disappeared into thin air is how it felt." His voice increased as he waved his hands like a magician doing a trick.
Jerry, sitting across from him leaned back in his chair with his arms across his chest. He looked down at one of the papers on the table. His lips tinted into a straight line, he muttered to himself 'Anomalous vitals.' "We need to find him."