Clickbait Lies
Book 2: Hot Crime in the City Series
The most dangerous lies aren't told face to face. They’re only a click away.
An elderly widow falls for a charming stranger she meets online. A lonely 12-year-old gamer befriends someone who isn't who they claim to be. A vulnerable teenage girl disappears after trusting the wrong person on social media.
At first, the crimes seem unrelated. But as LAPD officers uncover a web of romance scams, sextortion, human trafficking, and cybercrime, they discover a chilling truth: behind every screen is someone with something to hide.
As multiple LAPD investigations unfold, they reveal how quickly a simple click can destroy lives—and how difficult it becomes to stop the damage once deception takes hold.
Drawing on her 29 years with the LAPD, award-winning retired police officer Kathy Bennett delivers a gripping, authentic police procedural thriller inspired by today’s fastest-growing internet crimes, exposing the dark side of our connected world.
Authentic Crime…Arresting Stories told by a retired LAPD officer.
Chapter 1: Olivia
As the car she was riding in pulled to the curb, sixteen-year-old Olivia Talmadge saw lights on in her bungalow-style house.
“Crap. My mom’s home. She was supposed to work a double. Now she’s gonna do an inquisition about where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing, and who I was with.”
Samantha Nelson shrugged and put her Mustang in park. “It’s no big deal. Tell her we went to the mall to look for junior prom dresses.”
“The problem is we’ve been smoking and I reek of weed. I’m sure my eyes are bloodshot, and my mom’s no dummy.”
Sam sighed. “Come on, everybody smokes. The whole world smells of it. She can’t prove that what you say isn’t the truth. Just stick to your story.”
“She’ll probably punish me anyway.”
“Wasn’t it worth it to hang out with those guys we met? Can you believe they thought we were old enough to go to a bar?”
She smiled despite herself. “At least they were generous with the weed when we told them we were eighteen.”
Her friend sat up straighter and grinned. “You know what we should do?”
Olivia made a face. She knew that look and it meant trouble.
“What?”
“We need to get fake IDs. That way, the next time we meet some hotties and they want to take us to a bar or club, we’ll actually be able to go.”
She shook her head and got out of the car, leaning down to her friend’s level. “You get the craziest ideas. That’s all my mom would need to find on me—fake ID. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You know I’m right,” Sam said before Olivia closed the door and headed up the walk.
A sliver of light leaked through the curtains. She stepped off the porch and peeked through the window. Her mom was on the couch, head tipped back, mouth slightly open, fast asleep.
She considered slipping in through the back door, but knew her mom would wake anyway.
Returning to the porch, she took out her key and entered.
Her mother sat up and immediately glanced at her watch. “Where have you been? You’re not supposed to be out past eight on school nights.”
“I was with Sam. I thought you had to work a double shift.”
“They found someone else. So where have you been?”
“To the mall to check out dresses for the junior prom.”
“We can’t afford it.”
“I know. But her family isn’t poor, and she can buy one.”
Her mother’s face softened a little. “I’d buy you a new dress if I could. Has anyone asked you to go?”
“No. None of the guys I hang out with are into that kind of thing.”
“Well, from the way you smell, apparently they’re into smoking pot.”
“You always have to get your little digs in, don’t you?”
“Your bloodshot eyes tell me what you’ve been up to. I’ve told you a thousand times that marijuana is much stronger than when I was growing up. It messes with your mind.”
“My mind is just fine. You told me you smoked joints in high school.”
“That was a long time ago, and drugs weren’t being laced with things that could kill you. I’m telling you to stop with the pot or any other drugs for that matter.”
Olivia’s chin lifted. “Or what? You’re going to kick me out?”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Keep up the smart mouth and defiant attitude, and it’s a distinct possibility.”
Chapter 2: Darcy
LAPD Senior Lead Officer Darcy Cummings looked at the crowd gathered in the Lincoln Elementary School multipurpose room. The fluorescent lights buzzed, and the scent of antiseptic cleaner hung in the air. Three minutes until her first Neighborhood Watch meeting began.
She took a deep breath to calm her unease. Her predecessor, SLO Porter Prescott, recently promoted to sergeant. He had been loved by the community he served.
As Darcy scanned the audience, she caught furtive glances from several elderly citizens in the group.
She looked at the clock again and stepped up to the podium.
“Good evening. This is your two-minute warning. We’ll start the meeting in two minutes.”
Several of the older women in the front row frowned.
She smiled back at them, then glanced at her Neighborhood Watch Captain, Celeste Beales, who was thumbing through the stack of crime maps she’d printed.
She walked over to the other woman. “I’ll let you know when I want you to pass those out. I don’t want the community to be distracted while I’m introducing myself.”
“That’s an excellent idea.”
She returned to the podium and adjusted the mic slightly.
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Senior Lead Officer Darcy Cummings, and thank you for attending our Basic Car meeting for April.”
She slid the cordless mic from its stand and moved closer to the crowd.
“I’d like to tell you a little about myself, and then we’ll get into the crime problems in the area.”
She made eye contact with almost everyone in the room, reading faces the way she’d been trained to read suspects—gauging skepticism, interest, and fatigue.
“I was born and raised right here in Los Angeles, and wanted to be a police officer since I was thirteen. I joined the Department eleven years ago. My first assignment was Foothill Division where I did my probation. Off probation, I was transferred to Wilshire Division. I worked there for almost a year. I live out this way, so driving the 405 or the 170 freeways was not a good time.
Some of them chuckled. Maybe I’m winning them over.
“I put in a transfer as soon as I could and went first to Van Nuys Division, then West Valley, and now Devonshire is my home. I’ve been here for the past three years, and as you know, I was recently selected to be the Senior Lead Officer, also known as a SLO, for Basic Car 17A81. But that’s enough about me.”
She looked to the woman standing to her right. “Our Neighborhood Watch Captain, Celeste Beales, is going to pass out the latest crime maps.”
One of the women in the front row raised her hand.
Darcy smiled and pointed to the woman. “You have a question? Go ahead. I’m a pretty open book.”
There were a few titters from the audience.
The woman’s voice was stronger than her small, frail-looking appearance suggested. “Officer Prescott was very good about getting back to us when we had a problem. Will you continue to be available to us as much as he was?”
“I’ll do my best. I can tell you right now email is the best way to contact me. I’m better at that than I am with phone calls. You’re always welcome to leave a phone message, but I’ll see an email first.”
A man in his early sixties raised his hand.
“Sir?”
“Well, I hope I’m not overstepping any boundaries, but you said you were an open book.” He grinned at her.
Darcy smiled. “Go ahead.”
“Are you married? Do you have any children?”
A few people chuckled.
The woman sitting next to the man elbowed him in the ribs.
“I had a husband at one time, but we’re not together anymore.” She started to turn away, then stopped. “And no, I don’t have any children.”
She turned to the laptop and tapped a few keys. The same crime map that had been passed out appeared on the screen behind her.
“Let’s look at what’s been happening in our Basic Car, shall we?”
Chapter 3: 17A49 - Price And Tully
Patrol officers Josie Price and Jim Tully loaded their gear into their black-and-white.
It was Tully’s turn to drive, so he circled the vehicle, checking the lights and scanning for new dents or scrapes.
While he did that, Josie inspected their shotguns, both lethal and less-lethal, and locked them into their racks.
She grabbed a protein bar wrapper off the floor, then checked the back seat for anything an arrestee might’ve left behind.
“I’m gonna hit the head real quick,” he said. “Can you gas up the car?”
She gave him what she hoped was a withering look. “Yeah. I think I’ll be able to manage.”
He grinned at her.
“Don’t fall in,” she called out to him as he headed toward Devonshire Station.
After fueling up, she parked in the shade beside the garage and logged them onto the computer.
When she saw her partner crossing the parking lot, she tapped the ‘clear’ button on the computer, making them available for calls.
Once he was settled into the driver’s seat, Tully said, “Wanna bet how many units are already at Ed’s Donuts?”
Before she could answer, the radio beeped twice. The dispatcher’s voice cut in.
“17A35, see the woman domestic dispute 13820 Morgana Road. PR states her husband chased her into the backyard with a meat cleaver. The suspect went back into the residence. 17A35 handle the call Code 2 high.”
“Let’s back them,” Josie said.
He nodded and whipped the black-and-white out of the station parking lot.
Josie let 17A35 acknowledge the call, then keyed the mic. “17A49, we’re backing on Morgana.”
“17A49, roger. All units responding to Morgana, the suspect is a male white, brown hair, brown eyes, 5-10, 170, fifty-three years old, wearing a green plaid long-sleeve shirt and tan pants.”
Tully wove through the early morning traffic.
“It’s kind of early for a domestic,” Josie said.
“The wife probably left the pulp in the orange juice,” Tully replied.
Josie chuckled.
“17A35, we’re Code 6 on Morgana.”
Josie replied over the air. “17A49 ETA two minutes.”
Tully gunned the engine and, within a minute, pulled in behind 17A35’s unit.
The 17A35 officers were in a neighbor’s yard talking to a crying woman.
As she and Tully stepped out, a man matching the suspect’s description came out of the house with his hands in the air.
They drew their guns and took cover behind their vehicle doors.
“Stop! Don’t move!” Josie ordered.
The other officers drew their pistols and told the woman to run into her neighbor’s house.
She did.
“Put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers,” the senior officer from 17A35 ordered.
The man complied.
“Keeping your hands behind your head, slowly walk to the sidewalk and stop.”
Visibly shaking, the man moved to the concrete sidewalk and stopped.
“Now, keep your hands where they are and get down on your knees.”
The guy nearly fell to his side, but he made it to his knees.
“Get down on the ground. Spread your arms like an airplane. Spread your legs wide and put your heels on the ground.”
The senior officer lowered his voice and spoke to his partner. “Approach and cuff him. I’ll cover.”
As the officers from 17A35 approached the suspect, Josie and Tully moved from their vehicle to the tree trunks vacated by the other officers.
Minutes later, her partner spoke into the mic. “17A49, Code 4—suspect in custody.”
Looking down the street, Josie saw another police car approaching.
The A35 officers walked the suspect back to their SUV.
The third black-and-white parked, and Sergeant Blaze McKenzie exited.
Josie was always relieved to see Sergeant McKenzie. Unlike some supervisors, he had a way of overseeing a scene without getting in his officers’ way.
He approached Josie and Tully.
“Was there any use of force?”
“No, sir,” her partner replied.
“What’ve we got?”
Josie shrugged. “We’re not sure. The suspect came out of the house as we were getting out of our shop. 17A35 was talking to a woman when we pulled up. She ran to the neighbor’s porch when the suspect appeared.”
The officers patted the man down for weapons or contraband and were putting him into the rear seat of their black-and-white.
“You guys stand by with him while I talk to A35 and we figure out what happened.”
“Sure thing, Sarge,” she replied.
The rear window of the patrol vehicle was lowered a couple of inches, and Tully started filling out a field interview card on the man.
“Hey, partner,” he said. “You wanna go to the house on the other side and see if they saw or heard anything?”
“Good idea.” Josie headed toward the residence two doors down.
No one responded to her knock, so she returned to A35’s vehicle.
The sergeant motioned them over then gathered the senior officer of A35, at the rear of the black-and-white. They all faced forward, keeping the detainee in view.
“We don’t have a domestic assault,” McKenzie said. “But we’re going to book him for criminal threats,” he said, holding up a meat cleaver.
He looked at them. “I’m going to cut you two loose. A35 has got this. I’ll stand by until they’re ready to take the suspect to the station.”
“Okay, we’re outta here,” Josie said.
She and Tully returned to their shop.
“Hey, Jim,” she said. “All the other day watch units have probably hit Ed’s this morning. I could use a cup of coffee.”
“You don’t fool me, Josie. You’re after coffee and one of their maple bars.”
“I can’t fool you, can I, partner?”
