The garage door opened wide.
She pressed a special button that swapped the license plates.
The Lamborghini shot out of the villa grounds like a streak of golden lightning, leaving the rose bushes trembling faintly in the early breeze.
Only ten minutes later the gleaming yellow sports car came to a stop in front of a modern house in a middle-class neighborhood.
The engine gave one final growl before falling silent, leaving a sudden hush over the empty street.
Lloyd stepped out through the gate.
His platinum hair caught the weak morning light; his emerald-green eyes held their usual glint of mischief.
He wore a fitted white T-shirt, tailored black trousers, and a green baseball jacket that somehow managed to look both casual and sharp like a player who always knew the odds.
He grinned broadly, his tone playfully formal:
“Good morning, señorita!”
Avis frowned, her ash-grey eyes flashing with undisguised impatience.
Her voice was curt and serious:
“Cut the theatrics.
Get in.”
Lloyd shrugged, circled to the passenger side, and slid into the seat.
The leather closed around him; the scent of expensive hide mixed with the faint perfume Avis wore.
Still, curiosity and mild suspicion flickered in his eyes.
“Why are you suddenly interested in this case?
Doesn’t really match your usual indifferent style.”
Avis started the engine; the powerful roar filled the cabin again.
She kept her tone even, yet a vague unease slipped through the calm:
“Lucas said that after Ryan went to class yesterday morning, he never came back.
No one’s been able to reach him since.
I… have a bad feeling about this.”
Lloyd gave a short, mocking laugh, though a trace of doubt colored it:
“You’re overthinking it.
The papers only mentioned five victims.
There’s no way it’s already your brother’s friend’s turn.
Maybe he’s at a bar, crashed at a friend’s place, or went home to his parents.”
Avis tightened her grip on the steering wheel; her nails pressed lightly into the leather.
Her eyes held a mixture of resolve and unconcealed worry.
“You really think there are only five victims?
Police covering up the numbers in serial cases like this… isn’t rare.
My guess is the real figure is somewhere between eight and twelve.”
She paused, her voice dropping lower, almost as if speaking to herself:
“Do you know North Glass Tower University of Technology?
The place where Ryan studies is known for serious students hardly anyone goes off the rails.
From what I know of him… he rarely goes to bars or clubs.
And Lucas already called his parents.
They haven’t seen him either.”
The atmosphere inside the car grew heavier.
Lloyd nodded slowly.
The mischievous smile had vanished, replaced by a fleeting unease in his emerald eyes.
“So… where are we going?”
Avis answered briefly, her gaze fixed on the road ahead that was beginning to fill with traffic:
“North Glass Tower University of Technology, of course.”
She reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out a pair of pale-purple-tinted glasses, and held them out to Lloyd.
“Put these on.
You shouldn’t show your real identity.
From now on, you’re my partner Detective Knight.”
He quirked a half-smile, but this time it carried no mockery.
White and Knight.
Two figures inside the luxurious cabin, speeding along the highway, officially stepped into the case.
When the golden Lamborghini swept through the main gate of North Glass Tower University of Technology, the wide iron gates were already standing open, as if they had been waiting for them.
Inside the campus, a temporary command post had already been set up: four gleaming black police cars were parked in a neat row, their roof lights still blinking faintly red and blue under the pale winter sun.
A heavy, cold atmosphere hung over everything the mingled scents of damp earth, concrete, and metal carried on the sharp east wind.
Avis or rather White, now in her perfect disguise parked beside the line of police vehicles.
The V8 engine faded into silence, leaving only the sudden hush and the sound of wind moving through the bare trees.
She stepped out of the car.
Her black hair, complete with the artificial fringe, fell lightly around her face; soft blue eyes surveyed the surroundings.
From the passenger side, Lloyd now “Knight,” his eyes a pale violet behind the disguise glasses also climbed out, the green baseball jacket fluttering slightly in the breeze.
Not far away, Mariana stood among a group of fifteen officers, her voice serious as she spoke with a campus security guard.
When she spotted the familiar Lamborghini, a rare flicker of hope lit her hazel eyes amid the gloom.
Mariana raised a hand, a tired but genuine smile appearing on her lips.
“Hi, White!”
White walked over, her footsteps light on the stone pavement.
Mariana extended her hand first, palm warm.
White met it with a polite, brief handshake short, yet enough to convey a quiet understanding.
“It’s good to be working with you again,” White said, her tone even, neither high nor low, yet carrying that familiar trace of coldness she never quite managed to hide.
Her gaze flicked over Mariana for a second, then she tilted her head slightly and gestured toward Knight, who stood a few steps away.
“Allow me to introduce him.
This is Knight, my partner.”
White continued with polite formality:
“Knight, this is Mariana, from Major Crimes Unit A.”
Knight offered his hand as well.
Mariana took it in a brief, courteous shake.
Knight: “A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.
Looking forward to working together.”
Mariana returned the gesture:
“Nice to meet you too, Knight.”