Chapter One - Overhearing a Conversation
This story marks the beginning of a series of stories that I call the New Jump Street Series. Each story can stand alone, but there are elements in each one that reference the others and add to the overall plot.
The only two 21JS characters in this story are Dennis Booker and Harry Ioki. Doug Penhall gets a special mention as well. It takes place in Los Angeles in January of 2000 and comes between Angel
episodes "Parting Gifts" and "Somnambulist." DISCLAIMER
I do not own anyone in these stories. Stephen J. Cannell and Joss Whedon do. Chapter One
Detective Kate Lockley of the Los Angeles Police Department did not have many friends. It was something that she had grown used to. In the years that she had spent working to become a police officer, she had sacrificed the part of her capable of being close to others. Her long and tumultuous relationship with her father never helped matters and recent events had pushed her further away from everyone around her.
There had only been one exception to her rule of loneliness in the past six months. A decidedly unlikely friendship had sprung up between her and a mysterious Los Angeles private investigator known only as Angel. It had taken time and overcoming a lot of trust issues, but Kate and Angel had slowly become friends.
Their first meeting had gotten off to an awkward start when Kate tracked Angel to a girl’s body lying bloody in a bed and mistaken him for a serial killer that she had been tracking. He of course had been tracking the same one and only at the last moment did they join to stop the murderer.
It had been a few weeks since they had last seen each other at her father’s retirement gala. Kate cringed just thinking about it. The party had ended in disaster. No one had ever figured out why she and the other officers had broken down and sobbed their deepest feelings to each other, but Kate and her father hadn’t spoken to each other since Kate’s tearful plea for her father’s love.
She and Angel hadn’t spoken either. Kate decided that if she had any chance of salvaging their precarious friendship, she should maybe drop by and see how Angel was. Los Angeles could be a rough place, especially for a private investigator.
The main office for Angel Investigations was on the first floor of an old building in downtown LA, with Angel’s apartment in the basement. Kate pulled up in her unmarked car – Angel’s people never seemed to react well to police cars. She pushed open the building’s front door and headed up the half-flight of stairs to the windowed office door heralding Angel’s agency.
She opened the door a crack, softly knocking on the frame, when she heard voices. Frowning, she quietly crept into the office and eased the door shut.
The voice coming from Angel’s private office was a voice that Kate did not recognize – a British man. “How did he die?” he asked.
Angel’s assistant Cordelia answered him. She sounded tearful. “He, uh, sacrificed himself for a clan of Listers. The Scourge was after them.”
“The Scourge?” the British man asked.
“Warriors,” Cordelia explained. “Neo-nazi things.”
Angel spoke up softly. “He died a hero.”
A silence fell over the room. Kate felt guilty listening in on such an obviously somber and private moment. Then Angel spoke up again. “Look guys, it’s up to us to continue what Doyle started. Cordy’s inherited his gift – ”
Cordelia scoffed. “Yeah. Good times, those.”
“Our link to the Powers isn’t severed,” Angel said. “Wesley, are you in?”
“Absolutely,” said the British voice. “I will do whatever you ask of me.”
There was the shuffling of people standing up. Kate ran back through the office and eased the door open. She would talk to Angel another day.
Kate sat restlessly at her desk back at headquarters. The conversation she had heard kept playing over and over again in her head. Something felt wrong.
While she knew Cordelia, she had only briefly met Angel’s other assistant, Doyle. Angel had talked of him, though, and Kate had gotten the sense that Doyle was a contact between Angel and many of his clients. Judging from the things that she had heard, Doyle had been killed.
But there was something else. The things that Angel had said about Cordelia inheriting a gift and the link to the Powers not being severed didn’t make any sense. And what were Listers? The more she thought about it, turning the words over in her head, the less she understood them.
It was possible that she had misunderstood him. Maybe he was talking about something that Doyle had left for Cordelia in a will. And maybe the Powers was a cable company or something. There must be a logical explanation for the crawling feeling that something strange was going on.
Two hours and four cups of coffee later, Kate sat gnawing on the end of a pen considerably more jittery but no less fixated on Angel’s words. An idea had been forming in her mind, but she was trying to convince herself that it was not necessary. She glanced back and forth between the phone and her desk drawer where the telephone directory lay.
It was crazy. It wasn’t necessary. She could figure everything out on her own.
Eventually, her curiosity won out over logic and she pulled out the yellow pages. She ran a finger down the page under “Private Investigation” and stopped at one that was listed just below Angel Investigations. Certain that she had lost her mind, she dialed the number.
“Hello, you’ve reached Chapel Detective Services,” answered a pleasant female voice. “How can I direct your call?”
“Hi,” Kate said, keeping her voice low so as not to attract attention. “I’m looking to hire a private investigator.”
“One moment please.”
The line clicked off while Kate was put on hold. After a moment, it clicked again and a new voice answered. “This is Dennis Booker. How can I help you?”