Marcus does a background check -Blink

The hours after the meeting went by uneventfully. Amelia and Marcus did some unpacking. Samuel said he only came today to return the medallion and Marcus also wouldn't have liked to actually take the help of an poor old man in heavy lifting while he was laying around.

As soon as the clock ticked 1:30 PM. Marcus moved out after giving a quick kiss on Amelia's lips.

Inside the station, the chaotic symphony of ringing phones and shouting detectives was a welcome distraction, but a nagging itch of cop paranoia still lingered at the back of his skull. He was ninety-nine percent sure the old man was harmless, but Marcus didn't survive this long by ignoring that last one percent.

He pulled his keyboard close, logged into the secure national police registry, and typed in the name: Samuel Von Eldorado.

He waited as the blue loading bar crawled across the screen. A moment later, the file populated.

It was all there. A pristine, verified record. Samuel Von Eldorado: twenty years as a Police Fleet Mechanic down in Texas, honorably retired. Next of kin: a brother, a Chicago patrolman, killed in the line of duty. Spouse: Martha Von Eldorado. Retired. Whereabouts: unknown.

Marcus clicked on the attached ID photo. The picture was nearly twenty-five years old, showing a much younger man with a full head of dark hair and sharp features. It was impossible to verify a perfect facial match against the wrinkled, arthritic grandpa who had stood on his porch that morning, but the jawline was close enough. Time and grief changed a man.

Satisfied, Marcus closed the window. He finally let his guard down, officially stripping the "sweet old man" of any remaining suspicion.

What the fiercely protective cop didn't know was that the real Samuel Von Eldorado had died three years ago in a Texas nursing home. The man Marcus had invited into his life was Samuel Harper, a grifter who had used his corrupt buddy, Patrick, to pull a bulletproof, dead-man's alias from the archives that very morning.

"Valente. Glad to see you settling in."

Marcus snapped his attention up. Standing over his desk was Captain Harris. The precinct supervisor was a notoriously capable commander who ran his district with an iron fist, but he also carried a sleazy reputation that made the female officers actively avoid him in the breakroom. Harris was a slick, sharply dressed man in his late forties with predatory eyes that always seemed to be undressing whoever he was looking at.

"Afternoon, Captain," Marcus said, sitting up straighter. "Just getting my files in order before I hit the streets."

"Good. We need your muscle out there," Harris smirked, leaning casually against Marcus's cubicle. As he did, his gaze dropped to the small silver frame Marcus had just placed by his monitor—a picture of Amelia in a full winter clothing, giving a beautiful smile to the camera.

Harris licked his lips, a slow, greasy smile spreading across his face.

"Well, well," Harris purred, his voice dropping an octave as he tapped the glass of the frame. "Didn't realize we were getting a beauty queen along with the transfer. Your wife?"

"Yes, sir," Marcus answered, his jaw tightening instinctively.

"She's gorgeous. You're a lucky guy Marcus." Harris said casually, his eyes lingering on the photo a second too long. "You’ll have to bring her to the precinct barbecue next month. I’d love to give her a... proper welcome to the neighborhood."