Page 52 of Fatal Fame
Rishi Patel approached the park with the careful gait of someone who'd learned not to draw unnecessary attention to himself.
"Mia? Where’s Gideon? He said he was going to be here," he asked, stopping at her table with obvious uncertainty.
“He got pulled away. I hope you’re hungry, I ordered you a burger.”
He raised an eyebrow. "Gideon said he wanted to talk about evidence processing? You are aware I don’t do that, right?"
"Of course," Mia said, gesturing for him to sit. "Look, I don’t want to put you in a difficult position but I was hoping you might be able to look into something for me."
Rishi settled across from her, glancing around the park with the wariness of someone who understood that casual conversations could have serious consequences.
“Like?”
“Evidence.”
"You know I can’t do that."
"Why not?"
"I could lose my job. Besides, your father's been good to me. Professional, respectful, never made me feel like an outsider the way some officers do. If I help you access information he doesn't want you to have, it feels like betrayal. Besides, there are legalities with that."
Mia studied Rishi's expression, seeing genuine conflict rather than simple reluctance. "What did Gideon tell you about why I need this information?"
"He said you're investigating the Hale case, and that official channels aren't providing access to information about the evidence that might solve it." Rishi paused, watching a group of teenagers skateboard past their table.
The food truck line moved steadily, workers from nearby offices ordering lunch combinations that would fuel afternoon meetings and administrative tasks that kept local government functioning.
"That’s right.”
“And like I said, I can’t help you. You understand?”
“I understand Gideon helped you with immigration issues," Mia said. “Is that true?”
Rishi's expression tightened. "Not exactly. My green card application was delayed for reasons that had nothing to do with my qualifications or background. Bureaucratic complications that could have cost me my job and my future in this country. Gideon knew people who could expedite the process."
"What kind of people?"
"Immigration lawyers who owed him favors, clerks who trusted his recommendations, advocates who'd worked with him on other cases. Gideon has more connections than you'd expect from someone who runs a DVD store in a small town."
“Ah…” Mia thought about the extensive files and networking capabilities she'd observed during her visit to Gideon's store. His obsession with cold cases had apparently led to relationships that extended far beyond amateur investigation.
"So you’ve helped him before?"
"Yes. No. I mean…” He trailed off. “Ugh. Look, I feel grateful to someone who went out of his way to help a stranger navigate a system that wasn't designed to accommodate people like me." Rishi took a bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully. "But you know as well as I do, I can't compromise my professional ethics or jeopardize my position."
“Sounds like you already have,” Mia said.
They ate in silence for several minutes, both of them watching the casual normalcy of park life while discussing access to evidence in an active murder investigation.
“I know why you help him. And I don’t think it has anything to do with Gideon.”
“And why might that be?”
“You’re just bored being stuck in that tech room all day.”
“That’s nonsense, I enjoy it.”
“If you did you would have denied Gideon the last time he asked for your help.”
