Chapter 47: The Police Invitation

Outside the Griffith Group building, a police car was stationed at the entrance. Adaline stopped and turned to the two male officers beside her. "You two head back to the station. I need to have a private conversation with Mr. Jackson." "Yes, Leader Adaline," the men nodded and drove off. "Impressive. You've got your men well-trained. I'm supposed to be treated like a criminal now, right? You're talking to me privately, bypassing protocol, and they didn't even blink," Jackson smirked. Adaline remained calm. "The trouble you're in has already been smoothed over by someone else. I'm here for a different reason, something I'd like to discuss privately." "Talk about life, maybe?" Jackson teased. "Can you be serious for once?" Adaline snapped before taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Let's find somewhere quiet to sit." "Your call," Jackson shrugged nonchalantly. They found themselves seated in a quiet café with soft music playing in the background. Jackson stirred his coffee with a spoon, took a sip, and frowned. "Too much sugar." "You seem like an expert," Adaline remarked with a slight smile, though her coffee remained untouched. From the moment they entered, her gaze had been fixed on Jackson as if trying to read him. "So, what's this really about?" Jackson asked casually, leaning back in his chair. Adaline opened her mouth, prepared to dive into the main topic, but paused, switching gears instead. "What's your opinion of the Jimstantham Police Force?" Jackson raised an eyebrow, then resumed stirring his coffee. "You want the truth or a lie?" "The truth, of course," Adaline replied, clearly intrigued. "They're trash," Jackson said bluntly, without hesitation. Adaline blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean by that?" "I won't get into specifics, but just from what I've seen, they're far from elite. It's one of the reasons the city's crime rate is so high," Jackson explained, shaking his head in disapproval. Adaline frowned. "You can't just judge the whole force based on a few examples!" "I'm not condemning everyone. But for a city like Jimstantham, the police responsible for its safety seem out of their depth. And if you're honest with yourself, I bet you've noticed it too," Jackson replied calmly. Adaline couldn't argue with that. His words echoed a major issue the police force was grappling with. Reluctantly, she asked, "What do you think should be done?" "In theory? It's simple. The police department needs reform—start with the leadership, bring in people who actually understand the city's problems. In six months, you'd see a transformation." Jackson paused, looking thoughtful. "But theory and practice are two different things. Reforming the police is no easy task, especially given how things are now." Adaline sighed. "Exactly. It's reckless to push for change without considering the reality of the situation." The conversation shifted into a deep discussion about the state of the police force, with Adaline eager to hear Jackson's insights. His blunt honesty and sharp observations offered her fresh perspectives, ones she hadn't considered before. After what felt like hours of conversation, Jackson finally set his coffee cup down and declared, "Enough. If I keep talking, my mouth's going to dry up." Adaline, though still eager to hear more, nodded. "Thank you for your advice, Mr. Jackson. I'll definitely take it to heart." "If it helps the department in any way, I'd be happy," Jackson smiled, then leaned forward. "But now, let's cut to the chase. We've been talking about the police force for ages. What's the real reason you wanted to see me?" Adaline's eyes twinkled playfully. "Haven't we been discussing serious matters?" Jackson smirked. "If that's what you wanted to call 'serious,' then sure. But if we're done here, I'll take my leave." As he stood to go, Adaline quickly grabbed his arm, eyes wide. "Wait! I haven't even gotten to the main point yet. How did you know?" "Easy," Jackson shrugged. "You've been skirting around the issue this entire time. It was obvious." Adaline looked at him in admiration. "Your observation skills are too sharp." "So, what's the real reason?" Jackson asked again, leaning back in his chair. Adaline straightened her posture, her tone turning serious. "Mr. Jackson, on behalf of the Jimstantham Police Force, I formally invite you to join us. Your skills could make a huge difference." Jackson's expression twisted in disbelief, and he quickly shook his head. "Join the police? No, thanks. Not interested." "Why not?" Adaline looked genuinely confused. "You could easily rise through the ranks and become a top detective with your abilities. Plus, we offer great benefits." Jackson sighed. "It's not about the benefits. I just don't see myself as a cop. Sorry, but I'll have to decline." Though disappointed, Adaline nodded. "I won't push you. But if you ever change your mind, let me know. The door will always be open for you." "Sure," Jackson nodded, though he thought to himself. That'll never happen. Just as they were about to part ways, Adaline's phone rang. She answered quickly. "Adaline, help me!" A panicked voice whispered on the other end. Adaline's face immediately changed. "Linda, what's wrong? Where are you?" "I'm at the People Pork Processing Plant on the western outskirts. The owner is using dead pigs, selling them as fresh meat. I took pictures—evidence that'll ruin them—but they caught on. I'm trapped. Please, hurry!" Linda's voice trembled. "Stay hidden! I'm on my way!" Adaline ended the call, jumping up from her seat. "Who's Linda?" Jackson asked, standing up as well. "A journalist. She's in trouble," Adaline explained, her voice tense. "I'm coming with you. You'll need the backup," Jackson said firmly. Adaline nodded, relieved. "Let's go!" At the People Pork Processing Plant, the workers had long gone home, but the factory lights were still on. Inside, several overweight men circled a young woman tied to a metal frame. "Stop struggling. If you don't tell us where the camera is, you're not leaving here alive," sneered a man with a scar across his face. "Threatening a journalist and using dead pigs for meat? That's enough to send you all to prison!" Linda spat defiantly. "Yeah, if anyone hears about it. But if you disappear, it's like it never happened," the factory boss grinned wickedly. Linda's heart raced in fear, her mind desperately praying for Adaline's swift arrival. Suddenly, the sound of a car engine echoed outside the factory. The boss' face tightened. "She called for help." "What do we do, boss?" one of the men asked, panicking. "Gag her and hide. Let's see how many of them there are," the boss ordered. Moments later, Jackson and Adaline entered the factory. Jackson's sharp eyes immediately found Linda. He was about to rush over when his instincts stopped him. "Linda!" Adaline, driven by worry, rushed forward, oblivious to the danger lurking. "Mmm! Mmm!" Linda, gagged, shook her head violently, tears welling up in her eyes. She was filled with regret—if Adaline had come alone, she wouldn't stand a chance against the men hiding in wait. Linda's fear and distress were clear in her expression, but Adaline, focused on her friend's wellbeing, squatted down and ripped off the tape covering her mouth. "Linda, are you okay?” "Adaline, run! There are more of them hiding—" Linda cried out desperately. Before she could finish, sinister voices echoed from the shadows. "Run? It's too late for that now." The factory boss and his men emerged from the shadows, grinning evilly as they closed in on the two women.