There is a scene in every big budget Hollywood movie set in San Francisco that involves a car chase. The bad guy verses the good guys in a crazy, destruction laden adventure through the city. Cars soar over hills, amazingly managing to stay in one piece as they come crashing back to the ground. Any normal person would be incapable of keeping control of the car at that speed with that kind of recklessness but, of course, none of those car chases were real. “Stunt driver; closed course.” Dozens of cars ruined trying to achieve a single decent shot. Brian now knew that stunt driving was a career he could seriously investigate should his savings ever run out.

It may have been traffic filled Los Angeles instead of the daunting hills of San Fran but Brian was flying across the roads with a few broken traffic laws being the least of his worries. Once he left the police station with his newfound knowledge he knew that he couldn’t wait around for Valerie to get a hold of him. Something wasn’t right; he knew it in his gut. Once he’d peeled away from the precinct and was speeding down the freeway with reckless abandon he realized he didn’t really know where he should go. His first instinct was to go right back to where he’d left his partner in crime; the dockyards.

They were just as busy when he arrived as they had been when he left and he had just as little idea of where to go as he and Valerie had that morning. With a sigh he parked his car and headed out towards the waterfront, glancing left and right for any kind of sign or indication of where his friend might be. He walked up and down the docks, looking for something; anything that might lead him to the answers. He tried asking a few people if they’d seen the female officer but of course the dock workers were mum. It irked him how quiet everyone was. He would expect a bunch of men working on or near the ocean would be loud, raucous, people. Instead it was like they were all scared; of what he wasn’t sure but he was nearly positive that by the end of the day he would find out.

“Hey,” a soft voice called out to him and Brian glanced around quickly, not seeing anyone looking in his direction. With a shrug he turned back towards the water until the voice once again called out for acknowledgement.

“Me?” he asked rhetorically catching a young man glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. He had a ball cap pulled down tightly over his brown hair, so low that Brian could barely make out the fact that the man was looking in his direction.

Without any sort of confirmation the boy continued to look over a shipping manifest and spoke, “You’re that singer.”

“You know me?” Brian asked, not looking back at the young man since he got the feeling that talking to him would be a faux pas.

The man chuckled quietly, “Well I haven’t lived under a rock for the past ten years if that’s what you mean. Your friend that you were here with earlier...” he trailed off, giving a quick look over both shoulders.

“Where is she?” Brian urged.

“Pier 14,” was all the man said before nervously shuffling away, keeping his eyes front and away from any recognition of Brian’s presence.

“Gee, thanks for all your help,” Brian sarcastically rambled to himself. He turned to the buildings and looked for a number so he could identify what pier he was standing on.

~*~

Valerie blinked slowly against the lights, coming to her senses once again. It had been hours since she had been taken from the alley way and she had been in and out of consciousness since then. In the background she could hear hushed voices having a heated conversation and she strained against her throbbing head to hear what they were saying.

“Where did she get all of this?” a man’s voice demanded followed by a ruffling of papers.

“It was in a fax that came in to headquarters,” a second voice explained, “A fax that came from your phone number.”

“That’s not possible. I’m not stupid; I would never have incriminated myself by sending this kind of information to the cops! Do you take me for a fool?”

“What about your girlfriend?”, yet another male voice broke into the conversation, “She had access to your fax machine.”

“So does the maid,” the first voice cut back in laden with sarcasm, “Toni would have to have a death wish to try and screw us like that. She knows that the reason she lived last year was because of me, and she would be the first person we would come after.”

“Well we better get some answers...”

“She’s awake!”

Valerie straightened at the words she knew were about her. She held her head high, wanting to make sure that her captors knew she was not afraid of them.

“I always knew you’d get yourself into trouble,” a voice said with a chuckle as a man walked towards her through the shadows. He was tall, muscular, and undeniably familiar to the woman.

“Hi Josh,” Valerie said to the police officer even before he stepped into the light.

“Were you expecting me?” he laughed, raising an eyebrow in Val’s direction.

“I had a gut feeling,” she replied, giving him a once over before her attention turned to the man who walked in behind him, none other than Santino. The other voice she’d heard had been from the man who had followed her all day, so she was sure know that she was looking at the persons in charge, “It’s so nice to finally get to meet you,” she said to the Mediterranean looking man to her left.

“I can’t say the feeling is mutual,” Santino replied, watching her closely through squinted eyes.

“So,” Josh began, pulling over a folding chair. He turned the grey chair backwards and sat down on it, cocking his head to the side, “How did you figure us out? I’m very curious. Who squealed?”

Valerie chuckled, “No one did. I’m just a damn good cop.”

“Here’s the thing though,” he said sarcastically, “You’re not a cop at all. I couldn’t find any background information about you, or even what your position was with IAB. All I knew was that you always seemed to be snooping around things that could incriminate me. I nearly lost it that day when you were looking through that pop star’s evidence files. I knew you didn’t know him, and I’ll be damned if I know what you were looking for. None of that evidence could connect him to us... I made sure of it. So who are you... are you some kind of undercover? A ghost, maybe?” he laughed.

“Something like that,” Valerie gave an uncommitted reply.

The officer laughed and circled the woman on the chair, continuing his monologue much to Valerie’s dismay. He nattered on and on, and she let her mind wander.

Where was Nick? She was sure he would have figured out where to find her by now. He was supposed to have called her, and hopefully would have known that something was up when she never answered. It had to have been hours since she was hit over the head considering that the sun was now on the opposite side of the docks. Slowly she tuned back in to what the man in front of her was saying, though still generally uninterested.

“You’re not even paying attention are you?” Josh scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“To be honest? No.” Valerie shrugged as best as she could with bound hands.

Her fellow officer lifted his hand, ready to strike her for her insolence but a loud crash of breaking glass from the other end of the warehouse got everyone’s attention.

“What was that?” Santino asked, all of the men looking between each other.

“I’ll check it out,” the man in blue, her stalker from earlier, said before heading off in the direction of the noise.

****************************************************************

Nick had slipped off his heels to keep the noise to a minimum as he walked through the large warehouse. Boxes lined tall shelves, all marked with the stamp of Esposito Oils. He had paid no mind to them until he noticed a familiar sequence of letters and numbers along a bunch of crates.

“This is them,” he whispered in Toni’s soft voice, finally seeing what it was that came off the ships. The reason he was killed was the contents of these crates. So many answers lied just a few feet away.

Like a scene straight out of a horribly clichéd action movie he found a crowbar a short distance away. He had to duck under the shelving to get good leverage so the nails slipped easily out of the wood. Under the panels there was a layer of shredded paper. He dug as fast as Toni’s slowly softening manicured nails would allow before finally the hands hit something solid.

With a smile Nick got a grasp on the contents and pulled it out.

“Olive oil?” he asked rhetorically, putting the bottle aside to reach in for something else. All he found was more olive oil. Bottle after bottle that he yanked out of the crate, all the same decorative containers of olive oil; like something you’d find in a souvenir shop, “I’m dead over some crates of fucking COOKING OIL?”

Now he was angry, and with a surge of emotions he swiped the bottles he’d laid on top of the crate onto the floor, hearing them hit the floor with a resounding crash. Breathing heavy he realized what he’d just done. Surely they’d heard him, and here he was completely exposed.

He had to find somewhere to hide.