Visionary Investigator

by Yumoyori Wilson

  ONE AND ONLY BITCH:

  "Scar? You alive. My spidey senses are telling me you just had a vision."

  Me:

  "How the fuck did you know? Don't tell me you're already here and stalking me, again."

  ONE AND ONLY BITCH:

  No...

  Me:

  "Cece Alexandra Rose. If my eyes pick out your blonde locks from the mass of people here, which you know I can do with or without my glasses, you will be in trouble if you don't tell me you’re spying."

  ONE AND ONLY BITCH:

  Typing...

  ME:

  "I will eat every single tub of ice cream in that freezer of yours and make sure the store down the street is completely out."

  ONE AND ONLY BITCH:

  "You wouldn't dare."

  ME:

  "Try me."

  ONE AND ONLY BITCH:

  "Two classrooms down to your left, next to the red lockers and ginger nerd no one likes."

  I glanced up. My eyes followed her directions till I spotted the tall blonde frowning at her phone as she relaxed against the red lockers while the ginger nerd attempted to make conversation with her. Cece was clearly bored out of her mind.

  Might as well bail her out of that awkward situation.

  I made my way to her – those blue-green eyes glued to her screen.

  "CECE! There you are. I'm so sorry I made you wait. Don't be mad." I announced; her eyes grew wide at my greeting before I hugged her.

  "Took you long enough." She mumbled, looking confused. I turned to face the ginger with large glasses; white tape held together the old looking spectacles.

  "Arnold. Nice to see ya. Sorry, I know you never get a chance to catch up with Cece, but I desperately need her." I stressed.

  "But, I mean, morning Scarlet. I was just trying to get Cece to help me out with some Algebra questions." He confessed. I gave him a sad smile; his efforts of attempting to swoon over the queen of perfection failed miserably.

  "I know. But I have a quiz in five minutes, and I need Cece's help, seeing as she is the perfect Ace of the school." I emphasized.

  "But...you're a perfect Ace too. You two always get top scores in everything." He whined, blinking his hazelnut eyes at us.

  "That's because Cece's my good luck charm. Next time she's free you can have her. Gotta go. Bye."

  I tugged on Cece's arm, who willingly followed my lead as we headed towards Hartwell’s office.

  "That's why we're best friends." Cece praised as we turned into another set of classrooms; the hall less crowded as students made their way to afternoon classes.

  "Ride or Die, Bitch. Now stop stalking me and wait here. I don't think this is going to take long." I reassured her before giving her a quick squeeze and making my way to the last classroom.

  "You have to tell me what happened with Mr. Grey." She urged; her voice loud enough for my ears to pick up from my distance.

  I gave her a wave before opening the door, entering the office.

  "Good afternoon Miss Sinclair. Right on time."

  I turned, smiling as I faced our course professor – Kendrick Hartwell.

  He was a well-groomed man with brown eyes and black hair. He looked to be in his late forties; wrinkles were beginning to show in his light, black skin. He had a heartfelt smile on his face which from day one made me feel relaxed in his presence. He made classes here a lot easier, even despite my "fainting lady" reputation.

  "Thank you, Sir."

  He ushered me to sit in the seat in front of his desk. I sank into the wooden chair, placing my backpack in front of me as I sat up straight; my attention focused on the man leaning against his desk.

  "Can't believe it's your last semester, Sinclair. My perfect Ace." He began smiling, proudly.

  "I never expected to be at this point, but I guess, I finally made it and please, I'm far from perfect. I think you've saved me from smashing into the ground at least four times this year alone." I joked, smiling shyly.

  "Your faint spells aren't your fault. I know it runs in the family, and I had my close calls with Marilyn back then. No one deserves to lose their loved ones, and you weren’t the cause of her murder. I'm glad you're at least pursuing a career that will prevent such misfortunate events from occurring to another family." He expressed; his words laced with sorrow as he gave me a sad smile.

  We allowed a moment of silence to pass as if we're both giving commemoration to the beautiful, talented woman and mother, Marilyn Sinclair.

  Professor Hartwell had been a dear friend of hers, and even after her passing always came to check on me, reassuring my auntie that he'd provide anything I needed to reach my goals. Whether financial or moral support, he had helped me grow up into the individual I was today, teaching me many tactics and skills over the years.

  I never knew how my Mother and Kendrick met, but I bet if my Mom wasn’t married to my Dad and had me, Kendrick would have been the best fit for her.

  I always imagined them meeting at your typical coffee shop or at the art studio my mom used to paint at when Auntie Nela would watch me as a baby.

  Despite not knowing, I cherished our bond and him staying by my side. He wasn’t expected to help raise me. My aunt had left, so I’d assumed he would too. But he stayed, giving me everything I needed and teaching me enough information and skill to reach this moment.

  I was glad that no one but Cece knew of our ties. He was like a guardian to me, and he'd proven that many times throughout my life, including my years at Mc. Ryerson. He knew in detail about my gift, including the consequences that followed me having a vision.

  Thanks to him, I was able to use the whole anemic card – usually the cause of me passing out or becoming disorientated to the point of drawing things at random. He was the Dad I wished to have.

  "Why don't we focus on your assignment?"

  He clapped his hands before turning and walking around his desk as he retrieved a medium-sized file with multiple papers inside from his top drawer. He walked up to my desk, placing the thick folder before me.

  "This is your final assignment. You will be assigned to a team who is investigating a homicide case that occurred earlier today. It's not normal protocol to assign a student to these type cases, but I've reassured both the organization you're assigned to and the higher ups that I have high expectations for you. Your perfect grades in both academics and performance reflect that. I think you’ve worked hard and deserve the opportunity." He began, complimenting me with another prideful expression.

  "Thank you, Sir." I stated quickly. He nodded before continuing.

  "On the front page is a contract. You will help the investigating team I and the other staff have assigned you with. All you have to do is shadow each team member and write a report. I believe there are five members on your team. If you excel during this assignment you could be offered an apprenticeship contract until the case has been solved or two months have passed. After that, the organization can choose to offer you employment." He concluded, opening the folder to show me the contract.

  "I guess I’ll sign my life away on the dotted line." I joked. He chuckled, passing me a black, inked pen.

  "Did I forget to mention, if you get accepted as an apprentice, you will be placed in the field and be doing everything a private investigator would do in the line of duty?"

  Silence descended on us as my hand froze above the dotted line encased by a box; SIGNATURE glared up at me. I smirked, looking him right in the eye.

  "You forgot that tiny detail. Was that in the fine print?" I inquired. Doing everything a private investigator would do, essentially meant that my life could, and probably would, be placed in some type of mortal danger. PINC took on some of the strongest and most dangerous criminals running the streets of LA, so it wasn’t a position to bat your eyes at.

  "Yes. Also, that you could potentially get shot, kidnapped or even thrown off a motorcycle. At least you have gun experience." He shrugged, an amused smile formed on his lips.

&
nbsp; My left hand landed on the white sheet of paper – gliding across it as the ink left the black pen. I lifted my hand as I finished the last curve of the r in my last name, taking a moment to review my signature.

  I looked back to Professor Hartwell.

  "Challenge accepted."

  Chapter Six

  "You better have a good reason for ditching me on campus, Scarlet Sinclair, or mark my words. I will track you down this very instant!"

  I sighed; my phone inches away from my ear as Cece's shrilled voice came through the speaker. The Hispanic Uber driver looked at me through the rear-view mirror, giving me a sympathetic expression. I smiled, placing the phone back to my ear to answer her before she kept true to her declaration.

  "I couldn't. My assignment starts in ten minutes. I'm only close to the destination thanks to Kendrick scheduling an UBER for me. Plus, you weren't in the hallway when I left, so I couldn't inform you. I literally just sent the text to you explaining when you called."

  "Hmph. Fine. Your excuse is valid.” She mumbled.

  "I promise when I get home, I will ensure you get a detailed description of my VIP Uber experience with Mr. Grey, and I'll buy you a few tubs of ice cream. You want those bars you stash away in the secret compartment in the fridge?" I asked.

  I heard her gasp.

  "How did you know about my stash of Wham Bars?"

  "Honey, it's the fridge. There's not that many hiding places." I giggled at her astonishment. And she thought she was the only one who liked to play dirty.

  "Seeing as you suggested it, then yes. I would like to have five tubs of ice cream and ten Wham bars for your offering of forgiveness." She asked nicely.

  I shook my head as I giggled.

  "No problem, bestie. Now, I need to end our conversation." I announced.

  "Are you close to the crime scene?" She inquired.

  "No, but I need to make a quick call." I revealed.

  "Ah, to Mr. White I presume."

  "I don't understand how you read my mind regardless whether you're in my face or across the fucking ocean." I commented.

  "I'm your best friend for a reason, silly. Now, call your future man. I shall conduct my research." She urged; her voice gave off a sinister feel.

  "No murder, Cece." I warned.

  "...Fine...maybe." She replied, hanging up before I could scold her. Well, I guess I'll just let her handle it.

  My finger pressed the contact button; Jaxson White appeared underneath Cece's name. It wasn't hard to spot seeing as I only had four contacts – Cece, Jaxson, Kendrick and Pizza Hut on speed dial. Totally Impressive. I should have had Jake’s, but with his spamming tendencies, I didn’t need his number saved.

  I clicked on his name; the phone went straight into call mode. Within two rings, he picked up the phone.

  "Hey Scar."

  "Hey, Jaxson. Are you busy?" I asked, realizing it was work hours, and he was probably busy solving a case.

  "A little, but I'm letting my team handle things. Did you get to your appointment on time?" He questioned. I heard the joy and amusement in his alluring voice.

  "Yes, I did. Mr. Grey...I mean, Christian, was amazing and got me there ten minutes early. Very professional. Thank you for giving me the luxurious experience." I said smoothly, relaxing in the black fabric of the Toyota Corolla. It wasn't as comfortable as that beautiful Escalade, but I just had to deal with it.

  "I'm glad. I'll make sure to inform him that you enjoyed his services. We aim to please, Ms. Sinclair." He joked.

  "And you please very well.” My voice became husky as the memory of him pleasuring me flashed in my mind. His sultry laugh filled the air around me, and my body heated – triggered by the sound.

  "You please very well too. I'd also love to see you again soon." He whispered, and that husky voice returned to ignite shivers as my stomach flipped with excitement.

  "I'd love that as well." I replied.

  "Ma'am. We're almost at Neilson Park." The driver announced.

  "Thank you.”

  "Guess you should get going." Jaxson encouraged. I pulled my black rimmed glasses off, needing a moment to calm down from both excitement and nerves. I securely placed them on top of my head, making a mental note to put them away when I got to the crime scene.

  "Yes, but I will let you know how everything goes." I reassured him.

  "Alright. Till we talk again, Scar."

  "Talk to you later, Jaxson." I whispered. We both stayed on the line; neither of us wanted to be the first to hang up.

  "I believe it's your turn to hang up, seeing as you said goodbye first." I teased.

  "But I want to continue hearing your voice, Baby." He teased back; his voice a whisper.

  "Hmm, what a difficult situation you're in. I should leave a voicemail, so you can hear me anytime you want."

  "Or, you can come with me to dinner tonight, and we can continue this conversation followed by a good workout. I assure you, I'll enjoy hearing you say my name over and over again."

  "Tempting, indeed."

  "Just accept it."

  "The boyfriend would not approve." I reminded.

  "Your boyfriend needs to learn how to fuck you properly. Jimmy already outdid him. And I know that I outdid him. Maybe when he grows some balls, he can attempt to dictate to you. But even then, I would find that hard to accomplish. You're quite stubborn." He acknowledged.

  “That I am. Doesn't mean I don't like to submit occasionally." I bit my lip, already imagining what sinful deeds would commence if I went through with tonight. Fuck, I need to break up with Jake...tonight.

  "Be safe, Scarlet. I'll see you soon."

  "Okay. Bye Jaxson."

  He hung up just in time; the car came to a stop at the park.

  "The address should be just up the road. Then take a right at the broken lamp post with the shattered glass. They still haven't fixed that thing. I'd take you all the way, but the construction on the sidewalk is blocking the path. Not to mention a dead body was found in some psychic teller's shop this morning, so there’s caution tape all over the place. They may not let you pass but there's no harm in trying."

  "Thank you. Have a good work day." I bid farewell as I slipped a fifty-dollar bill in his hand – his eyes grew wide before he thanked me repeatedly. I’d already tipped him through the app, but the extra cash could help him in some way.

  You could see a hard-working man fending for his family in those dark eyes, cradled in dark circles. I hoped my tip would give him a little break.

  I took one last glance at my outfit: skin tight, black jeans, red V-neck top, and black leather jacket with a gold zipper. I pulled at the rose gold locket around my neck, allowing it to rest visibly on my chest. I pulled out my hair tie, tying my curly hair into a ponytail – the fuzzy tail poufy.

  I reapplied my glasses before tapping my black, combat boots. They were worn-down just in case I had to get dirty. Had to be prepared for anything when in the field.

  Even though my heart had not stopped racing, Jaxson contributed to the palpitations, I was confident in my experience and skills. Kendrick had taught me many things, and it was about time to put those teachings to work.

  I clipped my card holder to my jean hook, tucking the delicate leather into my pocket as I took a final glance at my phone: 12:55 PM displayed on the lit screen.

  Gotta speed walk. No one likes tardiness, especially on first appearances.

  I made the trek up the hill; my short legs took brisk steps as I got into investigator mode; my eyes scanned the surrounding area.

  I noticed the broken lamp post at the corner of the street; my eyes landed on a garbage bin with a red handprint at the edge. I frowned, wondering if anyone had noticed this.

  It's garbage day today. I had done some research after reviewing the address Kendrick had given me, doing a quick read through before I’d called Cece.

  The area was claimed to be peaceful with no reported incidents in years. My eyes had caught onto the sentence of ga
rbage duty being twice a week. Interesting that it fell on today at two in the afternoon.

  I pulled out my phone, taking multiple pictures of the area, garbage bin and any other out of place objects – a garbage bag with a purple string compared to the other bags of garbage with the standard yellow string. I noticed the remnants of shattered glass; dark red stains at the edges.

  I returned my gaze up to the broken lamp the Uber driver had warned me about. My eyes landed on the tall, black lamp – the remaining glass far too old to be the same glass on the ground before me. The generous number of cobwebs confirmed it. I placed my phone back in my pocket and took off running towards the address.

  I stopped right in front of 2828 ESSENCE AVE; my hands on my knees as I caught my breath. Sixty seconds. I have thirty seconds to look like I didn't run a fucking marathon.

  I stood up, freezing in place at the shop before me – the same shop from my vision. I took a moment to scan the old building – the black paint peeled in certain areas.

  The Victorian house complex must have received renovations to still be standing. The style of the black and purple wood combined with the dark purple window frames and tinted windows gave off the impression that the renovations were at least five years old. It must have once been a private home and morphed into a shop.

  As I continued to glance at the top half of the building, the image of Christian walking towards the door resurfaced. Wait, was that the future I saw? Or the past?

  I glanced behind me; the area the black van had pulled up in my vision was vacant. I checked the sun's position in the sky, not a cloud in the sky compared to the dark outlook in my vision.

  I turned back to look at the porch. My eyes grew wide; my jaw dropped as I stared at the person standing at the top of the stairs.

  “Agent Sinclair. You're right on time. Good work."

  I blinked; my face flushed as I cautiously walked towards the stairs.

  "This must be a prank. Or maybe this is a test." I began, looking around for any hidden cameras or traps.

  I turned back as a deep chuckle greeted my apprehensiveness – six foot six-inches of defined muscles and dominance looked down at me with an entertained expression and amber eyes that sparkled with pride.