A thick cool mist has covered the horizon, mingling between the sky and earth while a gentle breeze vainly tries to clear it. Silently and confidently, young private investigator Valita stands on an old abandoned pier, looking out to sea. Seagulls laugh as they sail their wings with the wind high above her. Her short golden-brown hair is slightly tossed by the breeze as her large pale blue-green eyes behind large glasses glare into the distance. Eleanor Valita has been staring out to sea for as long as she can remember. Every morning while heading to work, she would take the scenic route to avoid traffic. Drink her cup of coffee peacefully while letting the sea and weather greet her. Yet, that moment is cut short as her smartphone vibrates in her coat pocket. Once pulled out, Eleanor recognises the number is from the police. They call her for assistance when they are overflooded with work or have hit a dead-end in a case.302Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtiWSxqK2xA
Once at the morgue, Eleanor met up with officer Murphy by the entrance. "Morning Eleanor, thank you for coming on such short notice." Greeted officer Murphy with a warming smile and tipped his hat.
"Always happy to assist an old friend. What's the story with this case, and don't spare the details."
"I think you better see it first before I tell you." Murphy's smile slips away as he walks in ahead, leading Eleanor down the hall. Soon he halts at a closed door and gestures with an arm for her to enter first.302Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd4HAamKEce
Eleanor said nothing and entered the room. It was empty, but a corpse lay on the table, covered with a large piece of cloth. The pungent smell of disinfectant and the chill of the freezers stung her nose. Slowly she approached the table and removed the fabric gently. There lay a young woman with wavy shoulder-length hair.
"Where's the coroner? He should be here as agreed." Murphy began to look around the room.
"Sorry, I'm late. Traffic." Paced in a tall man with short wavy auburn hair. Just shrugging into his white coat as he walks to the other side of the table and pulls forth from a table beside him a clipboard. He stares at the documents before him gravely, but his large olive-green eyes slowly wander up to Eleanor. A mischievous smirk curves upon his lips as their gazes meet.
Eleanor didn't let herself falter from his towering height and smirk. She cleared her throat and looked down at the corpse. "What's the story with this woman?"
"Oh er, Miss Casalia here was found in this state in her apartment. The report here says she died of heart failure, but I am confused why there is black discolouration upon her right index finger and thumb as well her tongue." He pulls back the cloth to reveal the right hand and opens her mouth after wearing latex gloves. The tip of her tongue was black as if stained by ink; the same marking was on her finger and thumb.
Eleanor leans in closer to inspect. "Have you found out the source of the discolouration?" She looked up to the coroner.
"Not yet."
Officer Murphy sighs deeply and walks up to the coroner with crossed arms. "Alright, sonny, drop the act. I know you are not Doctor Wildemann. Who are you?"
"I never said I was." Remarked the tall stranger.
"Yet, you're wearing his coat with the name tag." Officer Murphy points at the name tag.
"Oh dear, it looks like I took the wrong coat. Let me go fetch mine and will be back in a jiffy." He laughed nervously and was about to walk out, but Murphy gripped him one hand by the collar. "I wasn't born yesterday-" The stranger slips out of the coat and sprints towards the door. He gives a smirk and wink to Eleanor before dashing out of sight.
"Hey! You! Stop!" Murphy sprints after, leaving Eleanor alone.
She didn't bother to chase after because her intuition said the stranger was harmless. She picks up the white coat and clipboard to inspect carefully. Nothing unique in Doctor Wildemann's coat pockets aside from a few pens. Her eyes wander over to the clipboard, and she reads the report. Precisely as the stranger noted, doctor Wildemann diagnoses this victim died of heart failure without mentioning the black markings. Were the markings there before, or is the coroner hiding something? Indeed the stranger is a suspect for running away but-
"He got away." Panted officer Murphy as he returned, whipping away the drops of sweat. "I've put him on bolo, so all are keeping their eyes peeled for him."
"I don't think that would be necessary."
"What makes you think that?"
"He seemed interested in the corpse's condition." Eleanor paged through the report.
"Besides eyeing you." Remarked Murphy with a gruff voice.
"If he would be the murderer, why visit the victim?" Wondered Eleanor.
"To see his handiwork or 'piece of art' as many tend to refer it? If innocent, why run away?"
"We'll know that once he returns." She sighs and hands over the clipboard to Murphy. "Please ask Dr Wildemann to test the dark markings. My hunch says it's poison or overdose on some drug."
"Sure, but I'm curious, why poison? Are you sure this is a murder? Not some suicide?"
"Mmh, yes, that will depend on what the coroner finds but at first glance in psychology, why poison yourself when there are sleeping pills and other simpler and less painful methods?" Eleanor pauses. "You yourself said murderer despite what you asked." She smirks as Murphy stares at her, surprised and walks out. "We'll keep in touch. I'll be at her apartment."
Within the hour, Eleanor stood at the entrance of the victim's apartment. She had waited until all the people of the forensics team had left. On the wall beside the door were eight names with doorbells, and above them eyed a dark round camera. As she was about to list down the names of the members, an elderly man approached with a shopping bag of groceries. "Hello, looking for someone?" He asked, friendly with a smile as he fished out his key from his trouser pocket.
"Er yes, miss Casalia. Is she in today? I'm a friend of hers and agreed to meet with her, but she never came nor answered my phone." Eleanor pretended to be Casalia's friend with an American accent without knowing of her death. Eleanor has learned that acting dumb or unknown sometimes will lead to more information than the other way around.
The man stared at her, shocked but then blinked. "Oh, well, ehem. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your friend was found dead this morning in her apartment." He pauses. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Eleanor gasps, shocked with a hand over her mouth and widened eyes. Slowly she begins to shake her head. "No!" Trying to feel hurt and shocked by the news. Soon Eleanor dug her face in her hands and slightly scratched the corners of her eyes to animate tears. "No. No. Not poor Vicky." She whispered.
"Miss, are you ok? Would you like to come in?" The stranger spoke softly.
Eleanor slowly looked up with reddened eyes, brimming with tears. "May I? I think I need a glass of water. This-this is so sudden."
"Of course, come in. I'm Patrick, was her neighbour two doors across." He ushered Eleanor in.
"Oh, I'm Ellie, an old school friend of Vicky."
As Patrick said, his door was on the same floor as Casalia's, two doors across the corridor. Patrick kindly held open the door for Eleanor and led her to the living room. "Sit down. I'll fetch a glass of water." He smiled and paced off.
Eleanor inspected her surrounding. At the wall across her stood a medium-sized aquarium with little blue neon fishes swimming. Two bookshelves were filled with books, and two tall piles of magazines leaned against the wall. It was homey yet straightforward. Patrick keeps his household clean, especially the water tank.
"There you are. Coping so far, ok?" He places the glass of water on the living-room table and sits across on the other sofa.
Gingerly Eleanor takes the glass and sips it with trembling hands. "Ok, I guess." She bit her lower lip before hesitating to ask. "Do you know what happened? Did you get along well with her?"
"Well, she and I weren't friends but got along well as neighbours. I don't know if she told you anything, but she just broke up with her boyfriend and was shattered last night. She came knocking at my door in tears."
Eleanor gasped in shock.
"She sat right where you are now, and I managed to make her laugh over a silly drinking game before she passed out. I thought it best to leave her there and sleep the booze off. So I left her there, and that was the last time I saw her alive." He pauses and kneads his hands. "After that, I didn't hear a thing until the police came and barged down her door. She-she must have gone back to her apartment in the early hours; I should have stayed with her. I should have-" A sob cuts his sentence and buries his face in his hands. "Vicky was such a nice person. I thought she had her life sorted. So young and full of life, she wanted to go to India next summer."
Eleanor was for a moment surprised to see Patrick so sorrowful. Still, she quickly recollected herself and rubbed his back to comfort.
"Did-did she commit suicide?" Eleanor asked, terrified as if dreading the words.
"That's what the police told me, yet they bid me stay here due to suspicion.
Before Eleanor could ask further, there was a knock on the door. Patrick quickly whipped away the tears, took a deep breath and squared his shoulders as he opened the door.
"Hi, sorry to bother you but is my girlfriend with you? She texted me to pick her up." Spoke a familiar voice Eleanor couldn't sort until Patrick stepped aside. It was the tall smirking doctor from the morgue. "Hello dear, sorry I had to keep you waiting. The traffic was a nightmare." He approached her.
Eleanor decided to play along and stood up, throwing her arms around him.
He stiffened for a brief moment but then embraced her. He thanked Patrick politely for keeping 'his girlfriend' in good company and gently led her out to the corridor towards the elevator.
As soon Patrick closed the door and locked it, Eleanor rapidly stepped away from the tall auburn-haired man with an angered glare. "Very bold what you did there. What made you come here?" Her voice was cool and back to her British accent.
"Like you, to find out the truth. I find it pretty fishy when police and coroner say it's suicide yet hold a handful of people due to suspicion, myself included." He answers gravely.
"Not surprised after what you did this morning." Remarked Eleanor and began to smirk. "But my intuition about people never led me wrong, and I know you are innocent."
"Could you arrest me later- Wait, could you repeat that?" He blinked at Eleanor owlishly.
"I know you're innocent, and for the record, I'm no police officer. I'm a private investigator with a helping hand. The name's Eleanor Valita." She extends her hand to shake with a smile.
His eyes wander between Eleanor's hand and face for a moment with raised eyebrows. Slowly he reaches for her hand to shake and smirks roguishly. "A pleasure to meet you, Eleanor. I'm Ian Wale, a doctor-"
Suddenly, the elevator hummed in motion, quick-witted Ian and Eleanor sprinting for Casalia's open door and hiding behind large furniture. They waited with bated breaths until the elevator passed their floor. Eleanor sighed and let her tensed shoulders fall; her eyes fell upon her hand still holding Ian's.
He follows her glance. "Oh, sorry." Ian nearly whispers and looks sheepishly away with blushed cheeks and ears as he lets go. Slowly he walks around the apartment and inspects the furniture and its surroundings.
Eleanor began to inspect her surroundings and headed to Casalia's bedroom. Knowing most personal things are stored there, perhaps proving or hinting to a clue or the fact that it wasn't a suicide. Casalia's bedroom is dusky pink with white furniture. The walls were littered with different Indian mandalas and a few polaroid photos. Clear pieces of cut glass in various shapes hung at the window, creating prism light into the room. The desk was a mess with multiple books, magazines, pencils and pens littered everywhere. At one end protruded a cable and pulled it gently, revealing from the mess on the desk a white laptop. How could forensics miss this? Unless-
"Hey Eleanor, found anything?" Whispered Ian from the door and peeked in.
Eleanor turned around and showed the laptop. "This is a valuable find. Did you find anything?"
"I checked the bathroom cabinet if there was something poisonous she could have ingested, nothing."
"Did you check the kitchen?" Wondered Eleanor.
"The kitchen?" Blinked Ian surprised.
"Best check all possibilities. Every person has their logic, so we don't know how Victoria Casalia thought or saw things but hopefully will soon." She looks down at the laptop in her hands with a confident smile. "By the by, what are you looking for, Ian?"
"I think I'll know it when I see it." He winks and walks off.
Eleanor follows him to the kitchen, curious what he intends to find. She is aware of all the risks sticking to him. Yet, oddly she feels comfortable in his presence despite the police suspecting him. "Do you need help?"
"Would you?" He stared at her wide-eyed.
Eleanor couldn't help smiling at his baffled reaction and nodded.
"Could you check through the cabinets on this side?" Ian points to one side and then starts to search through the fridge.
"Anything specific to keep an eye on?" Wondered Eleanor as she opened a cabinet above her. She blinked as she found the cabinet nearly empty.
"Well, that would ease the finding," Ian noted as he noticed the empty cabinet.
"Or make it harder. Aside from the can of peas, is there anything on the top shelf?" Asked Eleanor, and was about to climb up, but Ian stepped in to inspect. Eleanor froze as she realised how close they were standing, chests nearly pressed and legs almost tangled. A cloud of herbal cologne or after-shave met her nose.
"No, nothing-" Ian halted in mid-sentence and began to blush with a sheepish glance. "Sorry." He stepped back.
"Sorry, I should have stepped aside." Eleanor apologises while stepping aside, feeling her cheeks growing warm. "Best not let it happen too often." She winked and continued her search at a cabinet beside it.
Ian chuckled. "Am I too much to handle?" A teasing smirk flashed across his face.
"I didn't say that but would need to reconsider our disguises in the future."
"You have a boyfriend then? Don't tell me it's that officer from this morning?" His eyes grew large.
Eleanor laughed. "No, no boyfriend and officer Murphy is just a working colleague."
"Sure." Ian's smirk grew broader, and his tone sounded as if not convinced.
Eleanor sighed and rolled her eyes. "Found anything in the fridge?"
"Nope, all normal aside for a few vitamin pills." Ian sighs while looking around the kitchen as if in last hope to find something he had missed before.
"Let's go before someone sees us." Eleanor walks out of the kitchen. "We can still return if we missed something."
Ian followed her, and once outside pouring rain greeted them. They zipped their coats and pulled over the hoods. Eleanor stuffed the laptop into her raincoat to keep it dry. "Do you know a cafe nearby with good internet connections?"
Ian beamed from ear to ear. "I know just the place and at best, free of charge." He winked and walked ahead. "Follow me."
With a bus ride into the city centre, Eleanor and Ian found themselves in an extensive library of a university. Seated at a table with paper cups of steaming coffee while staring into the glowing screen of Casalia's laptop. There was no need to figure out her password since her laptop had no security programmed into it. Eleanor finds that fact worrying for various points and but it is quickly forgotten as she scrolls through the emails of the last few days. An email caught her attention that was sent two days before Casalia's death, meeting up with a man named Ian. Is it the same Ian that sits beside her? She looks over her shoulder at him.
Ian glares gravely at the screen with a hand resting at his jawline, elbow upon his knee, and ankle resting at the other knee, leaning closer to the table while pondering. Slowly his eyes pan to Eleanor's, and a smile lifts his frown. "Is something bothering you?"
"Y-yes, the email. Casalia met on the night of her death a person with the same name as yours-"
"Yeah, she and I went on a date that night. The one and only date." Ian pauses, and his smile slips as he sighs. "She was nice, but she wasn't my type and-"
Suddenly Eleanor's smartphone vibrated with an incoming call that cuts both of them from their thoughts. It was officer Murphy. Quickly Eleanor took the call. "Hi Murphy, what's the story?"
"Eleanor, I just got the lab results, and you were right. The victim was poisoned, but the coroner is still testing what sort of poison it was. From the probability, it looks more as if ingested. I'll keep you posted once I have more. Have you found anything new on your side?"
"No, still looking, but I'm beginning to have a theory. Will need facts to support it before I tell you, Murphy. We'll keep in touch."
"Ok, bye."
"Bye." Once Eleanor placed her phone aside, she faced Ian. "Sorry about that."
"I'm glad you're on my side." Ian smiled.
"About that, I want to know your side of the story. What's your involvement with Casalia? Why did you break up with her? Why were you at the morgue this morning? Why bring me here to a university library? Not that I'm complaining, but I have many holes in Casalia's story."
Ian sighed as he sat upright with both hands on his knees but soon leaned forward as he rested his elbows and folded his hands. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he began to speak in a softer tone. "Alright, I've known Victoria Casalia through a dating app, and we met up last night. I had never met her before; hence am not her boyfriend who broke up, but I did sense her sadness behind that smiling mask she wore. I guess she met up with me to forget that pain, and who knows what, but we had a good time chatting and drinking and boy, did she drink a lot. I thought I was bad with drowning away my sorrows, but I couldn't help feeling sorry for her and did my best to make it not a terrible night. She did confess that I wasn't her type and vice versa. I walked her home to the main entrance, and that was the last time I saw her alive." He swallowed and breathed deeply. "The next thing I knew was hearing the coroner speaking about her and the police looking into it as well suspecting me for seeing her last night." He gasps sharply and bites his lower lip before looking up at Eleanor, brimming with tears. "I-I felt ashamed for not knowing and that I could have saved her that night. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands. As a fresh graduated medical doctor, I inspected her body this morning, as you know."
Eleanor said nothing while her mind pieced the information together of the whole case. Understanding why the police suspect him due to Ian's actions and seeing why Ian did from his perspective. His emotional guilt is understandable, yet Eleanor feels he is innocent despite it all. She places a hand upon his shoulder with a friendly smile. "Thank you for your honesty, Ian. With that, I'll help in every way possible to catch the culprit and prove your innocence."
Ian places his hand over her's and a smile curves his lips as their gazes meet. "Thank you, but I do doubt my innocence."
"Then let actions speak louder than words." Eleanor withdraws her hand but continues smiling. "Where did you and Victoria go out to meet? I'm sure we can retrace there some additional facts about the poison or murderer."
"Are you asking out for a date?" Ian smirks teasingly and leans towards her.
"Oh, grow up, Ian." Eleanor rolled her eyes and stood up.
Ian stood up, towering her with his height. "Care to rephrase that, Eleanor?"
Eleanor shook her head, annoyed while suppressing her smile, but one corner of her lips lifted as she unplugged the laptop.
Ian chuckled, amused at Eleanor's silence. "Victoria and I started at the Ace Card club, but it opens not until 8 pm, and it's now a few minutes before 6 pm." He looks at his wristwatch but soon leans down to even eye level with Eleanor. "How about we get a bite to kill time before heading there? It would be my treat and no date unless you ask for it." His smirk grows broadly.
"You said Victoria wasn't your type. How can you be sure I could be? And indulge me, are you always this flirtatious with other women?" Eleanor merely whispers, and her face draws nearer to Ian's with a sly smile.
Ian lifts his eyebrows for a second to express his teasing impression. "I guess there's only one way to find out."
Eleanor couldn't help herself smiling at his remark and shook her head. "What place do you have in mind?"
"That is up to you."
"If you say so, do you like seafood?"
"I do." Ian's face lit up with joy.
"Then I know just the place." Eleanor zipped her coat shut and waited for Ian to walk beside her as they headed out.
Ian kept grimacing; at times, the tip of his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth while his eyes were focused on something before him. Trying to hold the chopsticks correctly in his right hand, yet one or both always slips off or hold it too tight that they cross.
Eleanor couldn't help laughing at the sight. "Let me help you." She giggled and walked over, taking Ian's right hand into hers to position the fingers. "You nearly had it. There, that should do it." She smiles. "To move them, you need to move a part of your hand and fingers-" Eleanor halts as her gaze meets with Ian's. He was beaming from ear to ear with blushed cheeks but then blinks and looked away sheepishly. Eleanor sniggers. "I thought I was the shy one when it comes to relationships." She takes her seat from across the table.
"Looks like we both have multiple facades to reveal." Ian smiled. "You seem different when not working on a case, and I mean in a good way. You're more open and warm."
"Well, I don't open up to everybody, and when working, I tend to set aside my feelings to unveil the facts."
"Haven't missed that, but I have to ask, have we met before someplace else? Before the case, I mean."
Eleanor blinked at Ian's question. Now that he mentions she's felt the same from the first time they've met.
"I presume your silence concurs you feel the same?" Ian wonders cautiously and places his hand upon the table close to her's, fingertips merely brushing over her's.
Eleanor bites her lower lip, wondering if she should withdraw her hand or let it be. An inner conflict with her mind and heart. There is no denying that Ian is attracted to her, but perhaps the time is uncalled for due to the case or is there something else? Then again, is Eleanor attracted to him? Her excuses alone say that she is like a magnet pulled in by his charm, humour and kindness. Not to mention his morals are in the right places; perhaps the guilt trip needs some adjustments. Let's see where this is leading to, and maintaining a sharp eye won't hurt for the time being. She sighs and looks into Ian's large olive-green eyes. "Yes, maybe we've met in another life?"
Ian smiles. "Perhaps."
Together they enjoyed their meals, and along the way to the club, Ian bought Eleanor a tote bag to carry easier the laptop. She was surprised by his thoughtfulness and, without thinking, kissed him on the cheek.
He beamed from ear to ear of Eleanor's gesture, but that broad smile soon turned to a rakish smirk. "You sure don't want to turn this into a date?"
"But then we wouldn't be investigating. Not to mention I'm not dressed for the occasion if it were."
Ian leans down with heavy-lidded eyes. "You look perfect to me." He winks. "All work and no play on a night like this? Allow me to show you a good time, or the phrase 'having a whale of a time' wouldn't exist."
It took Eleanor a moment to connect the dots between the phrase and Ian's surname sounding the same. She giggled. "Let's see where the night will lead us. Maybe there will be some time for fun."
"Is that a yes?"
"A maybe, and I do appreciate your company."
Ian smirked and opened the door for her. "Then a maybe is fine with me. Here we are."
Rock music from the 70s met Ian's and Eleanor's ears as they approached the bar. Only a handful of people were present aside from the barkeep filling a glass of beer for the customer at one end of the bar and sliding it down. "Heads up!" Noted the barkeep. The beer glass slid smoothly into the customer's right hand. Eleanor gasped, amazed; it was something she only saw in movies.
Gently Ian placed a finger below her chin to lift her dropping jaw and sniggered. His finger brushed her jawline briefly before he faced the barkeeper. "Hey, Chester, long time no see." He greeted merrily with a two-finger salute from the brow.
"Evening Ian, out on another date, so I see?" Chester smiles warmly at Eleanor.
"Not exact-"
Ian cuts in. "She said maybe," and winks. "This lovely vision is Eleanor, but she is officially at work at the moment. I just tagged along." He pokes with the elbow to her side teasingly.
Eleanor pokes back.
"Shall I prepare a glass of orange juice for both of you since you're on duty?" Chester eyes Ian with a smile from his dark-rimmed glasses.
Before Ian could remark, Eleanor stepped in. "Yes, please and put it all on, Ian."
Ian tried to protest, but all he could say was "hey" and burst into laughter.
"You know what? First-round is on me. Ian always comes up with a remark or excuse, but you're the first to render him like this." Chester laughs.
"Maybe my charms have that effect," Eleanor smirks. "Say, Chester, could you tell me how Ian's last date went? I'm helping to clear his name."
"You're some kind of a lawyer?" Chester asks, surprised with widened eyes, nearly dropping the carton of orange juice.
Casually Eleanor slips over the bar table her card.
Chester readjusts his glasses as he reads. "Ah, I see, but that could sour the date you have now."
"I wanted to say earlier I'm here on business."
"All work and no play, you know." Whispered Ian cupping a hand on one side of his mouth, but Eleanor heard it well. She rolled her eyes.
"Then she has her priorities sorted better than you." Chester smiled and returned the card. "I know, Vicky. She loves drinking and was mostly known to be in good moods, but the breakup with her boyfriend had her devastated. She loved him, so it was more than hard to swallow that."
"How was she as she was with Ian?" Asked Eleanor.
Chester sighed. "She looked happy, but I did sense she was trying to distract herself in various ways possible. Vicky drank a lot while chatting with Ian."
"Was it here at the bar?"
"Yeah, two chairs to your right. That was her usual spot."
"Do you remember what she drank?"
A wry laugh escaped Chester's lips. "The list may be long in amount, but her favourite drink was giggle juice, and she had plenty of that."
Ian scoffed at the name of the drink.
Eleanor ignored Ian. "What does this giggle juice contain?"
"Oh, a mixture of Muscato, vodka, pink lemonade with some slices of lemon and strawberries and ice. Always served them in martini glasses with a coat of sugar on the rim."
"Sounds like a very sweet drink to me." Noted Ian.
"No surprise knowing you like to hit the tequila." Remarked Chester unimpressed.
"While Vicky was drinking, did you by chance see anyone else approach her?" Eleanor remained focused on the investigation.
"Not that I've seen, but then again, as the barkeeper, I was busy serving other people their drinks that night. It was busy."
"I see." Eleanor turns to Ian. "Same question to you Ian, did someone approach her that night?"
"Not that I can remember." Ian blinked in recollection and ran a hand through his short hair. "Vicky and I had the evening pretty much to ourselves."
Eleanor hummed in thought as she leaned an elbow upon the table and looked around the club. It's small but cosy with a billiard table at the far end with a karaoke machine and for dance challenge. Soon she faced Chester. "Would you know the name of Vicky's ex-boyfriend?"
"I saw him only once in here with Vicky a few weeks ago. He was reticent and had a piercing glance. I think his name was Lance or Lars? He seemed off to me and couldn't figure why Vicky was with him, but I respected and kept it to myself."
"What was off about him?"
"I think it was the character contrast, Vicky full of life and warmth and then him, cold and quiet. I can't tell why but got bad vibes in his presence."
"I see. Thank you, Chester."
"Are you suspecting the ex-boyfriend?" Asked Chester before Ian could.
"Yes, but still need more facts." Eleanor pulls out her smartphone to text Murphy. "I'll quickly ask Murphy if he is on the list and to get his address-"
"Then may I show you a good time?" Ian cuts in with a broad smirk as Eleanor finishes texting and places a hand over her phone. His face was close to her's their noses nearly met. Eleanor blushed speechless with widened eyes. Ian chuckles and gently takes her hand, "come on, let's dance." He quickly stops by the jukebox with a coin and presses a button.
"But- Ian-!" That was all Eleanor could say. Her nervousness made her cheeks and ears grow warm to the thought she doesn't dance well with other people. Immediately she recognised the song, More Than a Feeling by Boston.
Ian mouthed along to the song and sometimes sang with a hoarse voice while swaying his head to the rhythm. He beamed as he led Eleanor to the open space to dance, giving her a twirl to open the dance.
Eleanor knew at this point there's no stopping him. She sensed from his smile utmost joy and adoration that it made her smile and laughed away the nervousness. She danced to the rhythm and sang at times along the refrain; soon, her moves were synchronised with Ian's. Their gazes locked, and their smile mirrored. Suddenly a name popped in Eleanor's head. The moment it came, the needle on vinyl scratched across with a high pitched sound before going silent. Eleanor blinked and found herself standing close to Ian with his hands upon her waist. "Julian?"
Ian mirrored her reaction. "Moira?"
She nods and cups a cheek of his.
Julian grins while placing a hand over her's. "It seems our love is stronger than Samson's tricks."
Moira goes on her tiptoes to draw her tilted head closer to his. Julian leaned in, and their lips met, arms embracing as if afraid to lose each other.
A soft chime of little bells from across the room made them look. Soon followed a soft regular sound ticking like a clock.
"Another illusion of his. We must find him fast." Moira looks around, the club is the same, but all the people have vanished without a trace. She quickly pulls out of her pocket the card she handed before to Chester. It is blank. "False identities and memories." She whispered. "I sensed it all along but couldn't tell; that is why I felt at peace at the pier. Sensing you would go there someday and hopefully find each other."
Julian leaned his forehead against her's. "I stopped at the pier too, every night, hoping to meet with someone. I thought it may be some sort of fantasy, but it never stopped me." He draws back his head and looks around.
Suddenly Moira's smartphone vibrates to an incoming call; once in her hand, she sees it's officer Murphy. She takes the call on speaker and says nothing.
"Hello luv, waken up from your false identity? I assume the same with your pet." Samson chuckles.
"I am not a pet; you baboon faced cunt!" Julian sneered.
"Very clever with this illusion and embedding in our minds a false identity, but you've underestimated one thing," Moira smirked, not letting Samson's dark nature falter her to fear.
"Indeed, luv. It is strong and immeasurable in every aspect, but what do you know of me? Since the time is ticking, I let you come to me. I'll be waiting patiently at the morgue." Samson hung up.
"I don't like this, Moira. We are playing right into his hands."
"I agree, but what other choice do we have?" She looks up to Julian.
Julian huffed as he looked away with a severe look and a pinch between the brows while running a hand through his hair. He began to pace around while muttering below his breath. After a long moment, Julian halts in the mid of his tracks and hits a fist into the other hand as his face lights up to a smile. "That's it! We literally must act!"
Moira stared at him silently, waiting for him to explain.
Julian turns to her, placing his hands upon her shoulders with a hopeful smile. "We may just pull that off; we need to pretend. Act!"
Moira widened her eyes in surprise at Julian's simple idea.
"No fake tears will convince him, but since he has his eye on you... How about you act as if you fainted? All this is apparently too much for you to handle, and I, a doctor, would confirm the diagnosis." He begins to smirk and winks at the last sentence. "Once he gets close, we'll grab hold of him and won't let go until we have the amulet."
Julian's smirk and the light of hope in his eyes made Moira smile. "Sounds like a plan, and if that fails, we'll improvise with what we have. We have at least the element of surprise, so let's do the unexpected." She pauses. "I hope I'll be a convincing fainter; my acting skills are amateur and rusty."
Julian draws in closer, his auburn hair tickling Moira's face. "I'm sure you'll be a convincing fainter and not least a lovely vision." He kisses Moira while trailing a hand to the nape of her neck.
Moira threw her arms around him and kissed him. "For luck." She whispered.
Julian leaned his forehead against her's with a smile, looking at her adoringly. No words said. After a long moment, he sighed and stepped back. There was a frown, but he quickly turned it to a smirk. "Let's catch a thief." He offered his hand to Moira. She took it with a smile.302Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZBF7s2TDZq
They walked to the morgue, and as soon it was visible, Moira pretended to faint, her body going limp. Julian carried her in his arms, acting concerned with worry. His voice trembled while trying to wake her up and call her name. It sounded compelling to Moira's ear. Hopefully just as convincing for Samson. Julian carried Moira into the morgue and soon found Samson in the cool room where Julian and Moira found each other in this world. He wore the same attire as officer Murphy, but his visage has changed to his true face, honey brown eyes with short dark hair.302Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOPoFTSnZnL
He smirked as Julian approached; as his eyes fell upon unconscious Moira, he raised an eyebrow, and his smirking lips twitched.
Julian had to muster himself not to smirk, knowing his plan was working. "Moira collapsed as we were on our way here. Your sickening game has taken a toll on her more than she can bear!" He snapped at Samson, letting a part of his anger out, but he was angry at Samson because he does care in his twisted way for her. "If you care, help her!"
Samson approached and was about to touch Moira's shoulder, but he stopped and sniggered, eyeing Julian.
Rapidly Moira threw her arms at Samson, trying to catch him and at best restrict his arms. The majick thief jumped back, missing Moira's touch of a finger by a hair that it nearly brushed.
Moira leapt closer with an angered grunt, hands reaching out to grasp Samson.
He laughed as he leapt back light-footed. "Beckoning for a dance?"
"I'll gladly cut in with a toe to toe." Sneered Julian and tried to hit Samson with a fist at the jaw.
Samson dodged Julian's fists with a broad smirk. "An enticing offer, but you aren't my type."
"Then you and I have something in common!" Julian sprinted at Samson. The thief twirled his index finger in the air. After a soft chime of light bells, Julian finds himself running towards a wall. "Oh f-" was all he could say before hitting the wall with a thunderous thud.
Moira grimaced in pain at sight, wishing she could assist him immediately, but there was no time with Samson so close within her reach. "Damn you! We shook on it that you wouldn't cheat!"
"Hmm, yes, we indeed did, but we never agreed on the rules." Samson eyes Moira with a broad grin. "I must note, you almost had me back there with your little trick. What surprised me more is you came this far without using magic, and I know it courses through your veins. Why not use it?" He stepped closer to her.
Moira blinked at him, speechless.
"Despite your genes, you only recently learnt of it, I take it?" He strokes her hair. "Ah, I sense ancient magic. One nearly forgotten, those of the druids. Just as mysterious and complex like nature itself."
Quick-witted, Moira grabbed his hand and smirked. "This wasn't planned, but I got you now."
Samson laughs, "I admire your wit and determination." He draws his face closer to Moira's. "But this game is far from over. I want to see your full talent." His lips brushed her cheek, yet he sighed as he stepped back, and with a twist of his wrist, he took hold of her wrist. "I sense a hunger in you; unleash it. Don't bother the consequences."
Suddenly Moira feels an icy cold crawling from her wrist that is within Samson's grip. She looks down; a sharp gasp escaped her lips in shock at the sight. The black ink-like substance beneath her skin crawls its way up to her shoulder, spreading a deep chill that made her petrified. All she could do was stare as it spread across her body, soon it reached her eyes and everything along turned dark. For a brief moment, she heard Julian calling her name softly in the distance before succumbing into the inky depth.
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