Detective Kimberly Grante

Part 1 of 3: The Red Hair Detective

An informant had arranged the meeting.

Detective Grante entered the crowded bar in plain clothes. It was loud and filled with many young people. Heads turned as she walked inside. It was a feeling she was used to. Especially with her beautiful long red hair. Hair like that could attract attention from anyone.

Her eyes scanned the room. She had sharp eyes. Then she saw the man she was supposed to meet. The man her informant asked her to meet.

She walked over to the booth. A man was sitting there alone, wearing a nice suit. The man was fairly handsome, but there was a confidence about him which suggested that he wasn't exactly a law abiding citizen.

"You must be Ronan," she said to him.

Ronan, of course, wasn't his real name. It was a fake name, used specifically for their secret meeting.

"That's me," he said. "You must be Detective Grante. Have a seat."

She sat down. The bar was loud with music and people having a good time. No one could have possibly heard their conversation.

"A mutual friend suggested that we meet. Here I am."

"You know, you're more beautiful than people say," Ronan said with a flirtatious tone.

"If you're going to waste my time, then I'll leave."

"You're not going to leave," he said confidently. "I have information you want."

"What kind of information?"

"Your division is finally cracking down on corruption, it seems."

Kimberly nodded. "Apparently news stories about government corruption is bad for politics. And it's bad for re-election too. So, our Governor wants to see some results."

"Suppose I gave you information here and there. Strategically placed information. What would you do with it?"

"I would do my job and use it to build cases."

"I think we're going to have a very productive relationship, Detective Grante."

She paused a moment and just looked at him. Normally, she was good at reading people. It was a talent she had. But for some reason, she couldn't read him. All she had was the trust of her informant, that Ronan was a legitimate source. But informants aren't always known to be trustworthy.

"Who are you?" Kimberly asked bluntly. "Are you with the mob? Or are you with the government? Maybe you're a lawyer. I can't seem to tell."

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does."

Ronan smiled, "Let's just say that I'm a concerned citizen. I do what's best for the city. I'm also a big supporter of law enforcement."

"Of course, right. You give me a few pieces of information, big arrests are made, then suddenly your business begins to thrive, whatever your business is. So you're using me to take down your competition. That's nothing new."

Ronan leaned forward. The look of confidence was still on his face.

"I love a fierce redhead," Ronan said. "You're beautiful, tough, and very smart. That's a killer combination."

"If you're so attracted to redheads, go find a prostitute. I'm here to do a job. What kind of information do you have?"

He leaned back. "Everything. I can get you everything. Not all at once. But I can pass you information as it comes to me. Maybe it'll take weeks. Maybe months. But you'll get it."

"And where do you get this information?"

"You're not the only person with sources," he replied. "I've got contacts in the mob and with the city."

"The city?"

"Local officials. County clerks. City Councilmen. It's all interconnected."

Kimberly gave a slow nod. "I've heard rumors that the corruption goes that deep. But they're just rumors."

"Well, Detective Grante, if you stick with me, I'll make you a big star."

"That depends on the credibility of your evidence."

Ronan picked up a file on his seat, then he put it on the table, pushing it towards the detective.

"That's a small dossier I've compiled," he said. "It links real estate moguls with local politicians. There are banknotes and tax returns. There are even a few surveillance photos. You don't want to know how I got those."

Kimberly opened the file and quickly sifted through the documents. At first glance, everything appeared to be authentic.

"I'll need to verify this," she said. "Then we'll continue."

"Sure, go right ahead."

"Why are you giving this to me? There are so many other detectives and officials who are more experienced than I am."

"We have a mutual friend," he replied, referring to the informant. "Plus I've looked at your record. It's very impressive."

The detective shook her head. "I don't even want to know how you've accessed my records. But I'd like to keep in touch."

"Let's do that. I'll give you a call when I have new information. Until then, enjoy reading those files."

The man gave a confident smile as he stood, then he walked away. The detective remained in the small booth of the bar. Her eyes continued sifting through the documents.

***

Kimberly Grante was a fighter. In elementary school, she saw her friend being bullied by another boy, and she punched the bully in the face. She had gotten suspended for it, but her dad was very proud. In high school, she was narrowly losing a race for class president, but when her opponent made the race nasty, she found a way to win. She thrived on the struggle.

In college, she majored in criminal justice and graduated with honors. She considered applying to law school, but sitting behind a desk all day wasn't very appealing to her. She needed to be on the streets.

Law enforcement was a family trait. Her father was a cop. And so was her grandfather. Her brother became an assistant DA in another city.

Her parents used to joke that she had been subconsciously groomed to become a detective someday. After all, she had always been a tough and curious kid growing up. It was only natural that she joined the police academy. She had always been a tough person.

That's who she was. And that's who she is.

***

Two weeks had passed. Detective Grante had finally gotten the message she was waiting for. It was Ronan, who left a text message on an untraceable phone. Whoever Ronan was, he knew what he was doing. It gave the detective an uneasy feeling, but she wanted more of his information.

They met at a diner during the busy lunch hour. It was another smart move by Ronan, just like their first meeting. It was crowded, so he could easily blend in. And it was noisy, so people couldn't hear their conversation.

Kimberly wore her suit. It was a gray suit which looked nice in contrast to her long red hair. Once again, a few heads turned as the detective entered the room.

It didn't take long for the detective to spot Ronan. He was eating alone at a table, and there were plates for two people. Kimberly could tell by the way Ronan ate that he was a man of sophistication.

She approached him at the table.

"Good afternoon," he said when he noticed the detective. "Have a seat. I ordered something for you."

"Thank you."

When the detective sat down, Ronan reached for a file on the seat next to him, and he placed it on the table.

"Another dossier?" she asked.

"It is, assuming you trust me."

Kimberly opened the file and glanced through it. "Your last dossier appeared to be authentic. Everything checks out so far."

"I could never lie to a beautiful woman."

She wanted to berate him for the constant remarks about her looks, but she resisted. She needed his information.

"Are you ever going to tell me how you've been getting this?" she asked.

"Maybe. If you've earned my trust."

Kimberly couldn't help but smile. "I have to earn your trust? That's something I haven't heard before."

"You're assuming I'm a criminal."

"Then what are you?"

Ronan gave a sly expression. "I'm your new best friend. With everything I'll be giving you, your name should be in the news, and you would probably be getting a nice promotion someday."

"Well then, 'friend,' what exactly have you given me today?"

"A taste of what's to come. They're surveillance photos taken a year ago, which show political officials with various businessmen, and leaders of criminal organizations. Obviously that's not enough to get a conviction, but it's a start."

Detective Grante looked closely at the photographs. Her memory was sharp and she was able to recognize political figures and aides mingling with criminal elements. They were all dressed for a special event. The photos were taken outside at long range. She couldn't tell where.

"What is this?" she asked firmly. "How are you getting this sort of information? Nobody in the department seems to know any of this."

"It's closely guarded information. The kind that only few people know about."

"And how do you know about it?"

"That's a secret."

Kimberly sharpened her gaze. "Okay, and what are these people doing together?"

"You'll know soon enough."

She closed the file and gave him a serious look. "Enough with this. Admit it, you're only helping me because you would somehow benefit. You're using me to destroy your competition, whoever that is."

"I'll admit that my personal & financial interests would be benefited to a certain extent," Ronan calmly replied.

"If we're going to work together, then I'd want to know everything. I won't be your puppet. I want to know everything you know. Everything, or I walk."

Ronan leaned forward. "See, I don't think you'd be interested in knowing too much. It's better that way."

"And why not?"

"Because you're dealing with people who are dangerous. People who are highly connected. It's best that you limit the scope of your investigation to only low level figures."

"I mean it, Ronan. I'll walk. And you'll never see me again."

He thought for a moment. "Fine. But this sort of thing shouldn't be discussed at a diner. Verify those pictures, then we'll have a private meeting together."

"You better not be jerking me around."

"I'm not. I can assure you that."

Part 2 of 3: Red Hair in a Gold Mask

A week had passed. They met at night. Ronan drove the car and Kimberly sat in the passenger seat. She didn't bother trying to memorize the license plate, because she knew it wouldn't trace back to his real identity anyway. He was far too careful for that.

The ride was silent for a long period of time as Ronan drove on the freeway. She was worried that he might take her far away. But he just drove in circles, exiting and entering the same freeway.

"The pictures were taken outside of a ritual," he finally said. "Those people are all part of a secret society."

"Including local political leaders?"

"All of them. It's existed for over a hundred years, and their leadership controls much of the west coast operations. Their goal is to consolidate power."

"Sounds more like a conspiracy theory," Kimberly replied. "Connections between political figures and organized crime is nothing new. I'm sorry, but I don't buy it. Not without enough proof."

"Proof of the actual society is difficult to obtain. Nearly impossible, you understand? But I can prove that the relationships exist. And there's more than enough evidence to put important figures behind bars."

"Why can't you get proof of the secret society?"

"Because they only meet once a year," Ronan answered. "All of them gather for a ritual in which they affirm their allegiances."

"Where?"

"A manor. That's where those pictures were taken. They had been meeting at the manor."

"Are you going to tell me where it is?"

"No," he replied. "For your own safety, I'm not going to tell you."

"Have you ever been there?"

"I have."

"Have you been inside?"

"Yes."

"Could you take me with you?"

Ronan smiled, "I could. But I don't think you would like the rules. A place like that isn't for you."

"I've worked in Vice for many years. I've done dangerous undercover assignments. I've been in a lot of sketchy situations. If you say there's a secret society, then I want to know about it. There are certain people that I want, and I need to get them."

"Ambitious girl. I like that."

"So are you going to get me inside, or not?"

"I'll think about it," he replied.

Ronan exited the freeway and headed back to their meeting location. He drove through the downtown streets, towards the spot where they had initially met that night.

When they arrived, Ronan parked the car.

"How far are you willing to go?" he asked.

"I've been in deep cover before."

"What's the most extreme thing you've done?"

"Nothing illegal," she replied. "But I've been around dangerous people. I can handle myself. No one suspected that I was a cop."

"Strong nerves. I like that. But to penetrate the secret society, you'll need more than just nerves. As a woman, you'll need a great degree of self-confidence."

"And why is that?"

Ronan looked her straight in the eyes. "Women are viewed as property in the eyes of this secret society. Women are seen as their servants. Sexual servants."

"I'm not going to fuck anybody."

"Maybe you won't have to."

"Explain."

"I could bring you inside as my personal slave. Then, no one can touch you, unless I allow it."

"There has to be another way," Kimberly replied. "I could set up a surveillance perimeter around the manor. Just me. No one else can know about this. Not until I get more proof."

"Won't work. These people come in black cars with tinted windows, so you can't see who's inside. And they rarely show their faces outside. I got lucky getting those surveillance photos last year."

"Then how should we do this?"

Ronan raised an eyebrow. "Getting inside is the only way. But I've already warned you, that comes with a price."

"If I get inside, then what? Will it be worth it?"

"You'll see things which will shock you. I guarantee it."

She sighed, "I..."

"Don't answer yet," he said, cutting her off. "Just think about it. When the time comes, then I'll ask for your answer. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

The detective left the car and walked away. She had more questions than answers. And she didn't know what to do.

***

Days passed. Then weeks. Kimberly continued with her job as a city detective. She was a great investigator. But all she could think about was Ronan and the possibility of making major arrests. It would be a defining moment in her law enforcement career. She wondered if she would ever hear from him again.

All the while, the news media continued with their stories of corruptions and scandals. But there wasn't enough hard evidence to actually do anything about it.

Kimberly wondered how credible Ronan was. His documents and photographs proved to be authentic. But a secret society? It was a stretch for Kimberly to believe.

Whatever the case, it was impossible for her to determine Ronan's motives. He was an impossible man to read.

***

Late at night. Kimberly was dressed for bed, barefoot, wearing sweatpants and a small white tshirt. Her long red hair neatly combed.

There was a knock on her door. When she checked to see who it was, she saw Ronan through the peephole.

She considered quickly changing her clothes, but she decided against it, since it wasn't worth the effort. Not at that hour.

Kimberly opened the door to see Ronan standing there with a small box. She immediately became self-conscious of the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. And she hoped that her nipples weren't poking through her small tshirt.

"You shouldn't be here," she said. "I don't even want to know how you've gotten my address."

"I'm a resourceful man. And this is the perfect place for us to meet. We'll need the privacy."

She sighed, "Come in."

Ronan entered and his eyes examined the small apartment. He placed the small box on a nearby table and left it there.

"You've obviously thought about the offer," he said.

"Yes, of course."

"I'm assuming that you want to do it."

"I go where the action is," she replied. "If you're telling the truth, then someone needs to investigate it. I can certainly handle myself in this situation."

"Figures. I knew you would accept."

"It was the only decision I could have made."

"Well then, Detective Grante, let's get to the point," he said. "The ritual is this weekend. I'll only take you there if you accept two major conditions."

Kimberly sharpened her gaze. "What are they?"

"The first condition is that you'll have to sign a contract. The contract stipulates that you'll only investigate certain members of the society. Nothing beyond that. Obviously the contract is legally non-binding, however, you seem like an honorable woman. I trust you'll abide by it."

She couldn't help but smile. "You fucking asshole. You're using me."

"Think of this as a mutually beneficial relationship. I help you. You help me. We both win."

She rolled her eyes. "What's the other condition?"

"The second condition is that you'll have to give the appearance that you're my sexual servant. That's the only way you'll be allowed to entire without a proper security check."

"What does that entail?"

A slight grin appeared on Ronan's face. "You'll be completely naked. Head to toe. I'll have you on a leash and we get to explore the private compound where the ritual is held. But don't worry about your identity, you'll be wearing a gold mask to cover your pretty face."

It was a moment which caused Kimberly to freeze. She quickly collected her thoughts and tried to think fast. Attending the ritual, if it actually existed, was a rare opportunity.

But at the same time, she was expected to be fully nude as Ronan's slave. What if it was a trap? What if it was a set up?

All she knew was that Ronan had already provided what seemed like hard evidence, but she still wasn't sure if she could trust him or not. Kimberly's gut feeling wasn't much help either.

"That's a lot to ask," she said, keeping cool.

"It is. The greater the risk, the greater the reward. Isn't that the old saying?"

"How can I trust you?"

"We'll take things slow. I've never lied to you about anything."

"Who are you?" she asked in a mystified manner. "From the moment we've met, you've been in complete control. You handed me game changing evidence, and now this?"

"It doesn't matter who I am."

"Yes it does."

He took a step forward. "Detective Grante, the deal is on the table. Do you want to go to the ritual, or not? It's your choice."

The detective sharpened her eyes. She tried to read Ronan, but she couldn't. Her gut instincts were failing her. All that was left was Kimberly's desire to be a great detective.

"I'll do it," she said apprehensively.

Ronan smiled, "Then I'll open the box."

He opened the box and there was a contract inside. The contract was handwritten in cursive. He placed the contract on the table along with a pen. Then he gently pushed it towards the detective's direction.

Kimberly quickly read the informal contract. It was exactly what Ronan had described, that the detective would investigate only certain people, in exchange, she would be able to enter the secret ritual.

She looked through the short list of names. Some of the names she recognized. Others, she didn't. The names she recognized were of mob figures and a few city councilmen.

Then she signed her name on the contract. She had given Ronan her promise to abide by his rules.

"Now for your mask," he said. "Remove your clothes."

"Excuse me?"

"You're expected to be naked, remember? That's the only way you'll be allowed to enter. So we'll need practice. And we have to make this look believable. You'll need the confidence of a sexual servant."

"This better not be a ploy," she said firmly. "If you're attempting to..."

"Save the threats, detective. I give you my word. The secret society exists, and if you do what I say, then I'll show it to you. Now, undress."

Kimberly gave an icy glare, which Ronan was unfazed by. There was nothing she could do or say to throw Ronan off his game. The man was simply too good at whatever he was doing.