“So, I don’t know if this is to be classified as good news, or bad news,” Detective Reverend says after half an hour since I gave him the name of Aiden Collins as a likely suspect in the kidnapping case. “But it’s news, alright. Aiden Collins is most likely dead according to the authorities of the country he had gone missing in. They’re still searching for him because of his father’s influence, which means Aaron Collins must be funding the operation now. Whether that’s legal or illegal, I got no idea, but for clarity’s sake let’s all pretend it’s legal even if it’s not. But the gist of the story is, Aiden had taken a less-than-stellar hiking trail and disappeared into some god-awful rainforest. Local authorities suspect either the predator in the area or the terrain got him.”“Wow,” I comment unthinkingly, letting that sink in, “I kinda feel sorry for the bastard.”The detective raises a brow, “so, no love lost, then?”“I wish I could say he was a decent man before all this, detective
Waiting for something to happen is agonizing, and there is no way I could do that by sitting at home by myself. I want to search the city, I want to go through the subway every which way to see if I could get one single clue of where Coraline had been taken to, and I’m so tired of looking at a map of the city wondering where the hell she was being held, all while trying to decipher the identity of the person who had taken her from us, from me.I try to piece together the mystery within the confines of my home, and that proves a difficult task. I know that it only took exactly six hours and twenty-five minutes for us to get any kind of clue about Coraline’s kidnapping. Six hours and twenty-five minutes had gone from the time Lemon got her last text. And in order to send us such an encrypted video, the kidnapper must’ve needed a good amount of time. Maybe two hours, or something similar, if the guy was as much of a pro as I thought. So that meant rationally, contrary to the detectives’
“How am I not supposed to interfere?” I question Lemon, pacing around the length of the drawing room I’d found myself in after entering my father’s residence. There is nothing different about this house than any other night. The ambient lighting is soothing and bright at the same time, the electric fireplaces start as soon as anyone enters a room with one thanks to fancy schmancy newfangled sensor technology because my father has to be extra that way, and the security team is milling around the estate. The housekeepers had come and left, judging by how squeaky clean everything is. Those people are really stealthy, and I’d only met them once or twice. They come in daily and make sure the house is at its best and then leave without a sound.Nothing is different. It feels as large and impersonal as it was the day before yesterday and the day before. Although it felt more like home since I came to live here, it was still sterile. But I’d grown familiar with it, and for a while, I’d been t
The perky, bubbly receptionist at the office of Salvador, Priestly, and Erikkson seems to have been replaced by another woman. I actually pause upon seeing her, because never in my life had a seen a person, much less a woman, look so severe.It’s not that she doesn’t look beautiful, she is, but there is something so icy and aloof about her that I can’t help but stare for a moment. Her black hair, pinned behind her head seemed to have such a volume that I could positively say it was long when let down, and her dark eyes ringed with eyeliner and long lashes contrasted with her pale and sharp cheekbones like night and day.She scowls as soon as she catches sight of us, only for a moment before smoothing her features into what could be called polite, but with an undercurrent of disapproval. I wonder what that’s about, and then realize that I must probably look like shit. I just threw on whatever clothes I could find and ran my fingers through my hair before running out of the house with L
“Richard!” Erin the receptionist cries out, “Oh, thank the heavens, you’re here.”“Yeah, I could say the same,” Richard Erikkson looks like someone had barfed in his cereal at the moment. His eyes snatch on me, and his expression worsens, “Christ, what the hell is going on here?”Shaking myself out of the shock, I holler. “That’s what I’d like to know as well, Rick because your receptionist just called my friend here an Impure! I didn’t realize you were employing racists over here in this office of yours, and I certainly don’t appreciate having my friend treated this way. We’re here for a serious issue, Mr. Erikkson, and this is not helping things.”As soon as I get that rant out, I feel tons lighter. I still cannot believe what just happened, because it just seems so bizarre. Richard Erikkson looks like he’s about to tear his perfect hair off his head, but then thinks better of it, and sighs like a man with great troubles.“Erin, get out of here,” he orders without looking at the wom
To be honest, Rick Erikkson did look like a man who’d know a guy. I mean, he is a suave, deceptively young-looking lawyer who’d had some riveting wins in the court, who was known for his tendency to look into a legal battle with a totally new perspective and win cases so fast that it bewildered those that watched the whole thing.Not to mention how much of an enigma he was to most people, including myself I had a feeling that Gerald knew things about him that no one else in this world did, but then again, Gerald seemed to know a lot of things. So did my dad for that matter.One day I’d sniff out that secret, but not today. Today, I have to follow Rick Erikkson as he guides us through the lanes and sub-lanes in the southern district of Clandestine City.“You know,” I pipe in, “you could’ve just asked the man to come and meet us at your office.”“Well, that’d be awfully rude of me, wouldn’t it?” Rick throws over his shoulder blithely, taking yet another turn into the alleys with the eas
It really was Mal, in the flesh. He stares at me as if I’m a ghost, and I stare at him probably in the same manner. This is the last place I expected to see Mal of all people because I had been under the impression that he lived in Empire City. And he was a business major. I had no idea that the man was talented in the ICT field, because he never gave the impression, much less said it out loud.And him having connections with Rick Erikkson of all people? What kind of a twilight zone had my life fallen into lately?!Erikkson was the one who breaks the silence at last.“I’m sorry, do you know each other?” Erikkson asks us, his own expression sporting surprise.“Um yeah,” Mal replies, actually blushing under the scrutiny, “we go to the same school.”“Oh!” Lemon cries out, “You’re the Mal that called Jace to ask him if he’s alive just two days ago, aren’t you?”Mal’s attention focuses on Lemon, at who he raises a brow, “um yes, that’s me,” he looks at all of us, flitting from face to face
Mal said that he could tweak the voice modulation in the recording we had in order to make it more natural, so we could see if the voice belonged to someone I knew in real life.And so, he uploaded the video into a program and waited for it to increase the pitch to something natural. In the meantime, he asks us, “So, would you guys like some tea or anything while you wait? I’d offer you coffee, but you agitated enough already that I’m afraid you might start bouncing off the walls even without it.”“No thanks, I don’t think I can stomach anything at the moment,” I inform him, staring at the sound modulation program as it slowly loads. “How long will this take?”“A several minutes.” Mal says before turning to Lemon, “What do you say, citrus? Would you like some beverage?”“Okay, Citrus sounds way looker than Lemon does,” Lemon muses, “maybe I’ll start using that instead.”“That would be a good choice. Where I come from, I’m considered somewhat of an expert in nicknaming people,” Mal bra