"Well, that sounded like fun." "It wasn't so bad, actually. But I was really uncomfortable at first." "Why? Did she come at you?" "Tracy!" Her laugh boomed through the loudspeaker, and all over Joshua's living room. He simply shook his head as his partner continued to cackle mercilessly. "You're just exaggerating," he said. "No one came at anything." He picked up the bowl on his table and guided some noodles into his mouth using chopsticks. He closed his eyes and grinned widely. It was his first taste of noodles in ages, and he never knew he'd missed it that much. He had the chef of Springs Hotel to thank dearly. And Eleanor too. "If you say so, tough guy." She chuckled. "So, are you going to tell me what you fished out, or do I have to wring it out from you?" "I thought we were going with you first." "I've already spilled everything that needs to be spilled. Now it's your turn." Shuffling sounds were all over the background, maki
"How many days left?" "Four days, six hours, twenty-five minutes, and fifty seconds." Joshua glared at Tracy. She smiled sweetly back at him. "I preferred when you were brooding and quiet," he said with a frown. "No, you don't." Tracy said as-a-matter-of-fact. "Makes no difference that the case is about to be closed and we have next to no leads." "Yeah, that sucks." "Exactly." Tracy's office lacked its usual sunny appearance, mostly because it wasn't daytime anymore. The small bulbs embedded into the ceiling lit up the room in powerful fluorescent lights. A mess of papers and documents spread out all over her table, with some spilling over to the floor. But they didn't mind. They didn't bother to pick them up. They were simply . . . tired. "Who's missing from that list of the interrogated?" Tracy held up one of the numerous papers on her desk and peered into it. "We've covered Mrs. Walters, all the Walters' siblings
“Richard stepped into the bar quickly before the door slammed shut, with the cold gust of wind following him in. He felt the warmth almost instantly, in sharp contrast to the chilly atmosphere outside. The next thing to greet him was the cool, enticing music playing in the background. He almost found himself swaying to the saxophone medley as he slowly began to walk in. The lighting was low, so his eyes took some time to adjust. Then, he beheld the scenery in front of him with fascination. Round wooden tables were placed all around, with four wooden stools at each table, all arranged in such a way that one setup doesn't bump into another. And each one of these tables were occupied with people with the need to cool off after a long stressful day. Or, probably just people who wanted to chill and enjoy the beautiful winter evening. Up ahead, a long countertop with tall stools placed in front of it; for customers who wanted drinks straight from the waitresses at the co
"Welcome to Cyclone Bar. What can we offer you this lovely evening?" "Uhm—" Joshua's gaze shifted to Tracy. She, on the other hand, stared right back at him in ignorance. Realizing the game Tracy was playing, Joshua turned back to the waiter with confidence. "A bottle of ginger ale for the lady, and some punch for me." "Coming right up, sir." Joshua nodded at the waiter as he walked away, with approval written all over his face. "Smartly dressed and neat looking," he observed. "Nice." "The place is not bad either." Tracy added. "The population here seems modest, but optimum. You wouldn't want too many people in here with the limited number of tables. The drinks aren't too expensive, else these people would prefer buying from the convenience store. And the music is quite soothing to the ears, I must say. Quality stuff." Joshua stared at Tracy in disbelief, before breaking into a wide grin. "What are you? Some business analyst?" He c
"Funny how you came back here looking for something you won't get, detective." Joshua stood on the steps of the front porch, as quiet as a mouse. Yet, as if practising magic, Mrs. Margaret Walters was able to detect his presence. He squinted up at the sun, which heat was capable of turning the tar on the road to muddles. Joshua wasn't wearing his normal outfit of a leather jacket over a white shirt and a slacked tie. He chose to go entirely casual; a grey Under Armour T-shirt with black jeans and white Adidas sneakers. Part of the reason being the hell of a weather they were having, literally. The other reason was because he didn't go as a detective, but as plain ol' Joshua Mulligan. An ordinary inhabitant of Chesterfield Springs. "Well, aren't you going to come in?" She asked. "Or do you prefer to bake out there like freshly marinated meat?" With that, she rose from the white bench on her porch and grabbed her cane. She was indoors in a flash. With Joshua at
Joshua fiddled with the keys for a moment, then slid the appropriate one into the keyhole. After hearing a familiar lock sound, he twisted the knob and opened the door. The apartment was completely different from what he remembered walking into two months ago, although this was the first time he'd seen it in the light of day. The floors had been waxed, walls had been repainted. The furniture had been completely removed, leaving the center of the apartment totally bare. The wall in front of the space that was occupied by a couch had an empty metal suspender, where the TV is supposed to hang from. The kitchen had empty racks, clean cabinets, a shiny sink, and a cleared out fridge. It was an understatement to say that the room had been completely abandoned. Joshua didn't find it at all surprising that he'd find the apartment empty and uninhabited. It might've sounded harsh, but no one would hurriedly occupy a space where a dead man was found. Especially conside
Shawn Zachary was much different than Eleanor had described him. Her description came from many years back when they were still in high school, though, so the fluctuations were permitted to exist. His once reddish-brown hair had a lot of grey in them too, and had already started thinning out. His thick, black eyebrows moved above his sharp, intelligent eyes, which seemed to scan everything that crossed his view. His lips were nearly covered by the bushy moustache that stretched across his upper lip to the side of his mouth. His chubby cheeks multiplied in size whenever he smiled, which was every time. On his hands were rings of immense quality and expense. With his brown Armani suit piece and designer shoes, he looked way too elaborate for the Cyclone Bar. But that was where he insisted they meet. And Joshua had no choice but to agree. Joshua felt completely underdressed sitting next to him at the counter. He had a simple plain blue shirt tucked into light brown trousers.
Night time in Chesterfield Springs was probably the most quiet in the entire country. You could hear the humming of your neighbour's refrigerator from across the street. Or the snoring of your landlord from the upper floor of the apartment building. It was so quiet that you could simply go deaf from the deafening silence. Regardless, it was just the way Joshua wanted it to be. The park was deserted, of course. No one brings kids or walks dogs close to midnight. The strong gust of wind blowing around moved the rusted parts of the metallic rides and swing sets, creating an eerie melody that was sure enough to spook anyone. Joshua was sure the inhabitants at the other end of the town could hear the swing sets and see-saw squeaking loudly. Left to him, the park would've been the last place he would've picked. But, he didn't have much of a choice. It wasn't New York that had multiple deserted buildings littered all over the place. Where he could have picked one and planned t