What a rather cool but sunny morning in Santa Monica CA, Mr. Hunt examined as he began to traverse to his car. He had just finished his breakfast sandwich containing an overdone scrambled egg patty, a slice of some barely edible American cheese, and two slices of whole wheat bread. It was the best he could do, considering his skill set. His badge glistened in the sunlight with the name “Philip Hunt” printed right in the middle. The LAPD squad car sat ten feet away. Detective Hunt’s house lay barely visible behind him, hidden behind six thick Jacaranda trees, with only the stone path to split the way. It had been an unusual last few weeks for Mr Hunt. First it was the disappearance of his partner Anthony Derlin’s brother, then it was the mysterious call at 2:00 am asking him for “the money.” It seemed that Mr. Hunt's plate had been four servings too full for a while now. But duty called, at least, that was what Mr. Hunt kept telling himself every morning when his daughter asked him if it would be another twelve hour day. To tell you the truth, the “Detective” part of Mr. Hunt had been slowly eating away at his life for some time now. But Detective Hunt has solved more cases than any Detective working in the LA area, which does come with some bonuses. For example, he could afford to be a single dad to his sixteen year old daughter Meredith, and still live in a decent location near Santa Monica.
The car radio flared with the sound of static voices. “Hunt, meet me at twenty-three, three-fifty-seven Mulholland Dr, the pharmacy.” It was the voice of Anthony, Hunt’s partner. “I copy, be there in twenty,” Hunt directed. Now things were only going to get weirder from here. Forget the fact that Detective Hunt had not even gotten to the police department, and Anthony had already been assigned a case for the two of them. Something seemed a bit fishy. Eighteen minutes later, the dated white CVS came into view. Detective Anthony strolled up to Mr. Hunt as he stepped out of his black, standard issue squad car. “We have a homicide, and robbery,” Anthony stated rather directly. “The evidence currently points to just some random street thug wanting to get his hands on some easy drugs, only it went wrong. Our victim is John Haywards, age 57, and the owner.”
“I see. I am assuming that we have security footage?” Hunt questioned as the two ducked under the shiny yellow tape meant to keep civilians out of the crime scene.
“Yes, but it is incomplete. We have footage of the robery and murder, but it cut out during playback, and we can not seem to get the last 5 minutes to play.” The scene was abysmal. Glass on the floor, antibiotics everywhere, and the safe had been cracked.
“Interesting… Do we have an inventory of what was stolen?” Hunt spoke in a soft inquisitive voice.
“No, all I know is that someone high up wants us on this case,” Anthony replied assuredly. “And for an inventory, the suspect stole a small sum of CBD products, about two thousand dollars that were in the safe, and a couple shipping manifesto’s, and some other random stuff like antidepressants and cough syrup.”
Huh, Detective Hunt thought, who kills a man for two thousand dollars and some drugs. “Speaking of suspects, do we have a lead?” Hunt questioned.
“That is what we were investigating before you arrived, but, like I said, the tape just busted itself,” Anthony quoted.
“Let me take a look,” Hunt inquired. Detective Anthony reached over, snached the tape, and handed it to Detective Hunt. As Hunt examined the tape, he opened it up and discovered burn marks, most likely from a lighter. “This was definitely tampered with, but the tape was stored in a secure location until we requested it for the investigation.” The tape could not have been tampered with until it was handed over to the Police Department.
“Are you saying that this was a larger operation than we originally thought? Inside man?” Anthony questioned.
“I am not sure if it was an inside man, but someone definitely tampered with this evidence” Hunt answered. The two detectives continued looking for clues. The murder weapon was a gun shooting a 9mm bullet. “Come take a look at this!” Hunt exclaimed. Hunt had found a PD jacket in a dumpster directly behind the store beside the back door. “I think someone impersonated an officer using this, snuck into the crime scene, and put some sort of sabotage mechanism inside the tape. Considering the burn marks, and where they are located, it was most likely a small remote detonation device.”
“Then the culprit could still be here!” Anthony shouted.
“Doubtful, but it will still be worth it to check the security footage of the block to see if we can catch anything out of the ordinary."
After looking through the other security footage in the area, the two cops found the license plate of the car used in the robbery. The plate still needed to be run, and the info likely wouldn't be back until the next day. Mr. Hunt decided to write up the report, file the paperwork, and go home early for once.
Pulling up to his house during the daylight hours was not something Mr. Hunt was used to. It was nice to have some break from work, but the weird case seemed to linger in Mr. Hunt's mind long after it’s due had expired. The door was unlocked. Hunt got the feeling something was wrong, and he carefully unsnapped the leather strap holding his glock 22 in his holster. His daughter stumbled into the room.
“DAD!!?” she shouted, apparently surprised to see him.
“Yes? And may I ask why the door is unlocked and you have your suitcase and backpack with you right now?”
“You were not supposed to be home for another couple hours,” Meridith explained. “Well, you see… you’re never home, and now that all my friends are taking that new cough syrup drug that screws people up, I've got nobody to keep me company.” She spoke with a heart of sadness. “Who’s not high at least,” she added as an insulting retort toward her friends. “I thought I could go to mom’s.” Meredith's last statement stung like an iron wasp the size of an elephant.
“Honey, but why did you not just tell me?” Philip asked sincerely.
“I-i'm not sure… I guess I was afraid you would say no. I know how much you hate mom for what she did to you,” Meridith explained.
“This drug you are talking about, do you know who sells it?”
“Some sketchy guy from the other side of town. I have never met him, and I never want to” Meridith retorted.
That night was spent by two hurting family members on a long drive to Nevada. Mr. Hunt, still thinking about his case, even now. And Meridith sleeping in the back of his trusty squad car. Once Meredith was dropped off at her mother’s, Philip made the long journey back to Santa Monica, thinking of how he could have been a better dad. It is funny how the brain works late at night. You know the old saying, “If you're crying, it's probably because you are too tired,” but the brain can also be enhanced late at night. Especially on a long drive where your mind is forced to wander. Mr. Hunt thought about Anthony’s brother who was still missing. He thought about his wife whom he divorced ten years ago because she cheated on him. He thought about how he could have done things differently as a parent. And finally he thought about that lone shipping manifesto and when his daughter spoke about her friends and their new cough syrup drug. That's it! He had it figured out. The reason he was on the case, the burned tape, the robbery, and the cough syrup. All Hunt had to do now was wait for the right moment.
The next morning, all the food that Mr. Hunt had time for, was a chilled frappuccino that he had bought the week before. He hopped in his car and headed to the Police Department. Anthony was there to meet him.
“We have tracked the plate to an address in the hood, an abandoned warehouse to be exact,” Anthony stated.
“Good, let’s go catch this murderer,” Detective Hunt implored. “By the way, do you mind if we go alone?”
“Sure, that is fine by me” Anthony plainly retorted.
“That's all I needed to know,” Hunt replied.
The two Detectives trekked across town until they had reached their desired destination. An old warehouse, probably built in the 50’s. Sure enough, they found the car parked in an alley outside. As they came closer to the car, Hunt noticed that it was a black Chevy Impala from 2008 or 2009. The doors were unlocked. Hunt searched the car while Anthony took watch duty. Suddenly he felt the cold sensation of a gun to the back of his head. It was a glock 22. Anthony's glock 22.
“So… it was you all along,” Officer Hunt questioned. Anthony did not respond; he just ordered Hunt to get out of the driver's seat, and put his hands on his head. Hunt did as instructed. Suddenly, a shadow of a man who looked like the man in the tape from the robbery appeared from out of the warehouse.
“So this is it huh,” Hunt knew that they had to kill him. “But wait, I know that you plan to hijack a truck full of that new cough syrup.”
“Shut up!” Anthony responded rudely.
“And I know that you sabotaged the tape, someone had to have been in the room in order to know when you were going to play the tape. You pulled some strings to get this case assigned to us. You see, I tried to find a name, but it just came up blank. You got yourself in this case so that you could plant and destroy evidence. The question is why?”
“If you knew, then why did you not just arrest me at the PD, huh?” Anthony spat.
“I would have, but I also wanted to catch your associate. I knew that you would not kill me because that would be too messy, so you tried to make it look like a firefight, with your little goon over there.” Hunt gestured towards the man in the shadows. A voice spoke from that direction.
“Let's just get this over with.” Click-click, the metalic sound of a pistol slide racking back and forward.
“Ah, but wait. Anthony, I know that you are doing this for your brother. You have probably received a ransom letter by now from his kidnappers, and since you do not have the money, you have to steal it,” Hunt stated with pride.
“I admire your little speech, but words won't save you,” Anthony spoke with sorrow in his voice. It became clear to Mr. Hunt that it was now or never.
“I know, but they will!” Hunt exclaimed. As soon as he said that, an overwhelming amount of LAPD officers stormed the alley, shouting “GET DOWN” and “PUT YOUR HANDS UP.” The good tried to run, but it was too late for him; the officers had him and Anthony on the ground in handcuffs within seconds. Hunt pulled out his phone from his jacket, which was transmitting the whole conversation to the backup officers.
“You can’t do this!!” Anthony shouted. “My brother! You are killing him with this!”
“I am not the killer, Detective Derlin. You are. ” Hunt blandly responded.
“Good work, Detective Hunt,” A familiar voice sent Hunt spinning around.
“Thank you sir,” Hunt spoke, surprised. “I did not think I would see you here”
“Only for my best Detective,” Captain Sterling smiled as he spoke. “Just glad to see that you are ok. I just can not believe Derlin would do something like this, he always seemed like a good man.” and with that, our journey with Philip Hunt is over.
It turned out that Anthony’s brother faked his kidnapping and was just trying to extort money out of Anthony. Because of a promotion that Mr. Hunt received, he only works 8 hour days, and has time to spend with his daughter when she comes to visit him. Who knows when or what the next adventure of Mr. Hunt will be!
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