The Case of the White Horse Mob

Greetings! for my first post I present to you all a story–that does not have a middle or ending. I thought that it would be fun to leave it up to you, the reader, as to what the next section of the story should be. I begin it, and you dictate how the rest of the story should play out. Whadd’ya think? Well, if you deem my writing worthy of your time and effort, go right ahead and read the next 585 words starting at the next paragraph. Then, if you are interested in dictating or just giving out an idea as to how the narrative should continue, comment below!

The steam of the coffee fogs up my spectacles as I sip the scalding liquid from my “Police Boss” mug. A sharp rap at the door causes me to glance up from my morning routine of reviewing papers and then shredding as many as I possibly can to gain desk space.

“The boys would like your help with a suspect down at the interrogation rooms boss.” It’s Jones, leaning halfway through the doorway of my downtown office. I sigh as I take off my glasses and rub my eyes.

“Yeah, okay.” I slide back my chair, thrust onto my feet, roll a few kinks out of my neck, and follow Jones out my office and down the police station hallway.

“Mind filling me in on what’s in store?” I ask the broad shouldered, clean cut young cop striding ahead of me. For answer, Jones hands me a yellow case file he’d been holding under his arm and falls into step with me.

“Aria Oscars, LA, California, originally from Freeport Indiana.”  He quotes from memory as I flip the file open to reveal a mug shot of a striking blue eyed, artificial red haired girl.

“She can hardly be more than eighteen or twenty.”  I muse as I shake my head. The youths these days…

“Isn’t she something? Looks more like a movie star then a criminal.” Jones shoves his thumbs through his belt loops as he nods at the photo. I glance at him and then back at the mug shot. His comment keeps me staring at it longer than I normally do. There is something about the girl doesn’t look criminal, her eyes don’t look sullen or cold, like the average crook; hers are scared, hunted, and helpless.

“It’s too bad she got in the wrong line of work,” Jones sniffs as we round a corner.  “Look at her record, boss.” I can hardly tear my eyes away from the eyes in the pictures, but when I do my feet are frozen in their tracks.

“23 years old, charged with dealing illegal drugs, running from police and for being an active member in the White Horse mob.” I whistle slowly.

“Well, we finally got our hands on another gang member.” I take a deep breath as I slowly begin to walk again, wondering why I suddenly felt depressed at finding out this kid was a part of the most blood soaked, out of reach mafia group I ever encountered in my twenty-five years of being a part of the LA 12^th precinct. The girl is looking at me from the picture, her eyes boring into my heart. I snap the file shut as I speed up my pace. Get it together Harris! I give my head a shake of disgust. Am I going soft?

“Funny,” Jones mutters half under his breath as he matches my strides down the halls.

“What’s funny?” I glance at the young officer next to me. He hasn’t been in uniform more than five years, but he had soared through the ranks faster than anyone I’d ever seen. Buff and brains normally don’t end up in the same personage, but Jones is definitely an exception. He shrugs a shoulder at my question.

“Not funny…just, she doesn’t look like a druggie or even a gang member to me,” He meets my gaze and hurriedly explains. “I mean, she just doesn’t fit the gang member criterion. No tattoos, piercings.”   He taps the folder in my hand to back his point. I look at him critically as we approach the holding cell. Is it just coincidence that he has the same exact thoughts I do?

“I know, I know, all that’s gold don’t glitter.” He acknowledges with a hand raised, as if he thinks that’s what I assessed of the situation.  A dry smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

““You took the words right outta my mouth.” I concede wryly as I hand him the file and open the door to the viewing area.

Now it’s your turn. The next scene is where detectives Harris and Jones meet Aria Oscars. What do you think she is like? Is she truly a gang member, or is Jones onto something? Your wish is my command! Voice out your ideas and concepts in the comments below and the most popular opinion will become scene two.