Stories of Tie Up Games

Dear @SashaMoh, I do my best to deliver. Thanks a lot for being one of my faithful readers.

Ruiz lays the transmitter out on the sleek conference table, its black casing matte under the overhead lights. The device is small - no larger than half a deck of cards - yet it carries the weight of everything they’re about to do. A silent witness. A tether to the tactical team waiting in the wings ...

Dear @Caesar73, you never know. But maybe Erica and Detective Ruiz can find out.

Dear @LunaDog, thank you for the kind compliment. I don't intend to let you wait for long. In fact, we'll press on in a minute or two. Enjoy!

The fluorescent lights of Mr Leslie’s 24/7 supermarket on West 72nd Street hum softly, casting a sterile glow over the aisles. Erica walks at an easy pace, tossing essentials into her cart – almond milk, a pack of blueberries, chicken breast for the kittens.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket.
At first ...

Dear @LunaDog, let's see if Erica was right to talk to Ruiz.

Ruiz doesn’t just halt - she shifts her stance slightly, weight balanced, feet apart. A practiced move, one that says she’s ready to react. Then her hand slides into her coat pocket - where Erica assumes an off-duty pistol rests, a reflex honed from years of experience on the job.
Muscles tensed ...

Dear @LunaDog, maybe we'll find that out tonight. Stay tuned.

Finding out Detective Sandra Ruiz’s duty schedule is almost disappointingly easy. One quick call to the precinct she’s stationed at, a polite inquiry, a friendly tone, and a distracted desk sergeant rattles off her shift details without hesitation. No John Dance-level maneuvering required. Erica ...

Dear @LunaDog, you're hitting the proverbial nail on the head. I guess, it's time for some creative thinking on Erica's part.

Erica exhales, reaching for her wine glass with one hand and her phone with the other. The number is muscle memory - she doesn’t even have to look.

The line rings twice before she hears the faint hum of traffic in the background.
“Erica,” John Dance greets her, his gruff voice carrying the easy ...

Dear @LunaDog, Erica might have a theory, but can she prove it?

The moment Erica steps into her apartment, she locks the door behind her with a firm click and leans against it, exhaling a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The tension that has gripped her since she stepped into Sue Cline’s apartment finally loosens its claws, leaving her limbs feeling ...

Erica’s voice is crisp, professional. “This is Erica Sinclair. Please send a patrol car to…” she rattles off the address, keeping her tone calm, controlled. “There’s been a homicide, I think.”

The dispatcher asks the usual questions - name, relationship to the victim, details of the scene. Erica ...

Dear @LunaDog, then let's crack on to see what might be so important.

The drive to the Bronx is uneventful, though the city outside Erica’s windshield is anything but.

Traffic weaves in its usual chaotic dance - cabs honking, delivery trucks inching forward, pedestrians jaywalking with the bold indifference only experienced New Yorkers possess.
The farther north she ...

Dear @LunaDog, "Blimey!" Now that's a Brit for you. I love it.

Dear @Caesar73 I'm glad I could get a smile out of you. Even in a crime story there should be a litte humor.

Dear @LunaDog, that's an interesting variation of the classic cheesecake. Be sure to let Mr. Schaller know!

The drive from Queens to Erica’s apartment on West 72nd Street takes just under 40 minutes and as she slowly lets her black Volvo roll down the ramp into the underground parking, she knows pretty much everything there is to know about Susan Cline.
Somehow, she wonders if Candice might have saved ...

Dear @Caesar73, maybe Erica can shed some light on this.

Dear @Caesar73, dear @LunaDog, as the great man wrote: the game is afoot.

More coming tonight.

Erica steps out of the apartment complex, the chill of the evening air hitting her. The parking lot is quiet, with most of the commuters still on the roads. The security shack sits at the edge of the lot, a squat, windowed structure bathed in the pale glow of a buzzing fluorescent light.

Inside, a ...

Dear Caesar73 , for a first-time offender like Candice, the possession of 2 kilos of coke could get her behind bars for a minimum of 8 years up to 20 years, plus fines and if the jury recognizes the intent to sell Federal charges would be triggered as well. This anonymous call has the potential to ...

Dear @LunaDog, I love it when my readers speculate what's behind a plot. There are so many possibilities what could be at play here, it's really wild. Please, keep up the discussion, I'm happy to see that you enjoy the story and that you take the time to discuss it.

Dear @LunaDog, maybe Candice was getting a little too close to some people's doings? After all, she's an investigative journalist and some people prefer to stay in the shadows.