#[you're a cosmic girl in a cosmic world : coxmicology]

[artofdeviancy]

Gang murders in the city of Detroit were a dime a dozen. There were more so-called gangs than the police could keep up with. Many of them were small time rackets. Nothing completely stood out among the rest on a good day. For a private investigator a good day of crime never comes easy.

Connor Anderson had a key in on the goings on of the seedy underside of Detroit. Having grown up with a father in the world of mafia, he broke free at an early age. Anything to push away from the lifestyle that murdered his mother. Connor knows anything could link to Don Anderson. Hank had a way of keeping it under wraps. It was never his forte to make it known. He was a cunning businessman on the surface. An entire front as head led one of Detroit’s biggest mafia outlets. 

The one person who would make a scene is his half brother. Caleb Stern. The elusive Caleb The Charmer. A murderous psychopath with a vicious jealous streak. 

Many times that streak had been directed at Connor. Blame always seemed to come to him for being the favorite son. Since he never joined his father in his shady dealings, Connor never understood Caleb’s animosity. He is the right hand. The assassin. The man he wants to put in jail. 

If he had been a detective it might be easier. Connor ignored that path. He wanted to go on his own. It was similar to his current stake out. Parked in an alley, he picked up his phone. 

“Do you have anything else for me, Cassie?”

“I told you,” her voice was clear on speaker from his cell phone. “He frequents the antique shop. Must be a collector.”

“An antique enthusiast?” Connor found it a mundane compared to having murdered a member of a gang. This time not a small time gang. A rumor put it towards the city’s Yakuza infiltration.

“You think it’s a front?” Her voice tsked so much in his ear it’s clear Cassandra probably rolled her eyes from his office. “Maybe if you get a hobby that’s more than skulking in corners. You might get a girlfriend.” 

Connor smiled for once. “I am going into the shop. Keep me posted on any information coming into the office.” He hung up the phone, pushing his door open to leave the alley and cross the street into the antique shop. The bell chimed. Alerting anyone there, he took a casual glance around for any other customers, noticing just one further in the back. That could be his man.

@theyearningtofly || semi-plotted feat. @coxmicology