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“It’s what you don’t do that counts,” Angie loudly read as she quoted Detective Ava Vladimir from an old article dated back in 1985. Sitting in her father’s office, Angie shuffled through the articles with the name Vladimir in the headlines.

After picking and scanning the articles closely, Angie noticed Troy Vladimir behind the office blinds. He was looking around the precinct while clutching onto a wooden clipboard. His golden badge was attached to a silver chain, sitting snugly on his chest. Angie noticed how good Troy looked in a tucked-in navy button down shirt (he looked good with his hair combed back as well but who was really paying attention). She began to furrow her eyebrows together, remembering how quickly he gained a strong position in so little time.

Angie watched Troy pass by her father’s office as he paced back and forth with a brooding expression on his face. If he knew any better, Angie thought, he would’ve known that her father wasn’t here, not until four this afternoon.

Before Angie knew it, Troy was already pushing aside the door, flinging himself into her father’s office.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Troy muttered, hiding the withering look across his face. He stared at Angie idiotically. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

As Angie looked at Troy for a second, she noticed him nodding at what seemed to be his strange way of apologizing. Looking back at the mess she made, Angie swiftly gathered the papers scattered across her father’s desk. As she picked up the articles, she noticed that Troy’s grip quickly tightened around the doorknob. Angie’s chest started to feel heavier and heavier as she found Troy focusing his attention on the open articles featuring his departed mother.

She pushed the article she last read at the bottom of her pile and looked at Troy. Angie warily asked, “What do you need?”

He frowned, mostly at himself, rather than Angie. “Uhhh, w-where’s Detective Finn, er, you know, your dad?”

“He’s with Barre–” Angie caught herself. Ever since her father’s partner’s frequent visits at their home, Angie couldn't help but refer him on a first name basis. “He’s with Detective Barrett Kanes.”

“When will they both be back?”

Her father had told her that he would be back around four this afternoon but knowing her father, Angie knew he would be caught up with something to occupy his time. Angie hesitantly answered Troy, “Four.”

She watched him nod, realizing that Troy was processing her response. She gazed at Troy, slowly trying to figure him out.

“Do you, um,” Troy started to say, as he started to push the door close. He coughed, focusing his eyes on the articles in Angie’s hands. “Is this what you meant when you said you did mostly paperwork?”

Angie stopped moving her fingers around her papers. She managed to let out a tight laugh, slightly embarrassed of what to say next. How often do you let a kid see you roaming through articles about his dead mother, Angie thought harshly. Before giving Troy an answer, she shifted her weight onto one leg as she tightened her grip on the papers in her hands.

“No.” She made it sound more defensive than she meant it. “You see, someone just mentioned to me about a case dated back in ‘85 and I was merely curious.” Angie shrugged, trying to focus on her words rather than her thumping heart.

“And that brought you to my mother?” Troy asked slowly, eyeing her closely.

“Right,” Angie breathed, trying to even out her voice. She paid too much attention to the spark in his rather beautiful eyes than the suspicion in his pupils. Angie swallowed her pride. “I’m not usually this curious.”

“But you are curious because?”

As his voice trailed off, he started to closely stare at Angie. She noticed him sighing, maybe pissed off by the invasion of privacy towards his family.

“I’m new here,” Angie said promptly, trying to pass up the excuse. “I’m just trying to educate myself on some history.”

Angie watched Troy bobble his head. His eyes trailed across the room and back to her solemn face. He continued to nod, slowly crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, we seem to be on the, um, same page, so, you know,” he said, as he started to furrow his eyebrows. He looked like he wanted to say more, even express more along with his words, but Angie noticed that he just couldn’t string his words together.

As Troy opened the door, he placed his clipboard tightly under his arm. Angie started to squint at the clipboard and noticed a few words written down but nothing made complete sense to Angie.

“I’ll see you around.” He sounded like he was suggesting the idea to Angie.

Angie bit the side of her mouth, slowly nodding at Troy. He gave her a small nod before turning around with pink cheeks and a crooked smile. She watched as Troy silently exit her father’s office, bouncing on the heels of his shoes. Angie pressed her lips together, clutching her files closer to her chest. She thought, what the hell just happened?



“The time I actually leave the office is when I miss all the Vladimir action!” Miki exclaimed as she pushed her bottom lip out. She shook her head, propping her elbows on her desk.

Angie slouched in the seat across Miki’s desk. Angie stared carefully at Troy behind the office blinds. He was pacing around the precinct, leaving behind a faint tap from his shiny shoes. He was working hard, making progress of whatever made sense to him.

“Troy said something about the both of us being on the same page and I don't know what he meant by it,” Angie said. As Angie crossed her legs, she started pulling out the Vladimir articles she summoned in her father’s office.

Her father was still out, which, by the look of it, made Troy frustrated.

Angie noticed Miki eyeing at Troy sharply. Miki commented, “Don't wrap your finger around him too tight. He's probably fidgeting over some case your dad gave him.”

Angie nodded and brought her attention at her articles.

“My dad won’t even know these are gone,” Angie said lightly as she scattered the papers across Miki’s desk. She stood up, closing Miki’s office door slowly. “Just don’t spill your coffee or whatever you have in that mug over it.”

“It’s tea.”

Angie rolled her eyes, as she focused her attention towards the old newspapers. She loudly read the last article she was scanning in her father’s office before Troy interrupted her.

“Detective Ava Vladimir speaks on behalf of Tripp Underwood and commented, ‘It’s what you don’t do that counts.’ I read this article about Ava defending Tripp during his murder trial. Ava was saying that just because Tripp Underwood was labeled as a mass murderer, it doesn’t mean his entire practice was poisoned. She tried convincing the jury that he was a good surgeon. Doesn’t this sound suspicious?”

“All you humans think everything out of your ordinary sounds suspicious,” Miki said, rolling her eyes at Angie. “At that time, Ava was doing her damn job to defend whatever he had left him. You know, making a point to defend the guy. You said it was published in 1985? Detective Ava was taking whatever case was thrown at her because it was just the type of her she was. She spoke on behalf of Underwood because he was her client.”

“So, Ava’s last case was to help out a man accused of murder?”

“Like any other.”

“Do you have any idea what she meant by it’s what you don’t do that counts? It’s been bothering me since I read it.”

“Ava was a complicated person, in and out of the office, so she could’ve meant a million things.”

Angie pushed a new article in front of her and began tapping her fingers on it. “Following up on another article I found five months after Tripp’s trial, a new report explains that Ava went missing in the midst of her investigation on Tripp Underwood’s case.” She started reading, “Investigators found Detective Ava Vladimir’s keys and phone left in her car, which was abandoned five miles away from her home. God, one minute she’s focused on murderers then the next minute she is murdered.”

“She was reported missing after her labor. Those holes are exceedingly wide so I can’t give much detail on what was going through her head.” Miki researched over at the newspaper in Angie’s hand and squinted at it. “I mean, think about it for a second, Angie. Imagine if you were Detective Ava and you were going into labor. Of course, you’re going to drop whatever shit you have in order to deliver the child. She must’ve left everything she had in her car.”

“Abandoned.”

“So?”

“The report says that she drove herself to the hospital. Yeah, I see that as a fact but what I don’t understand if how her car was found five miles from her home. Wasn’t she in the hospital recovering from labor? What was her car doing there?”

“Unless she wasn’t the one driving.” Miki clicked her tongue.

Angie nodded, pulling her hands on her lap. She watched Miki pout, shaking her head.

“God,” Miki breathed harshly, “Angie, what are we even doing?”