You Mentioned Her Name
Chapter 2: Little Red
by: angellwings
The flight had been horrible. It was majorly delayed. She had been scheduled to be in North Carolina by 4:00 P.M. And upon her arrival it was 9:00 P.M. She was currently bored out of her mind. She marched through the Greensboro airport to her gate, and stopped at the airport's café for dinner. She went by the gift shop and bought all her favorite magazines (People, Us Weekly, and Vogue), a small sketch pad, and a pack of mechanical pencils. She yawned and sat down by the gate.
She pulled out the sketch pad, and one of her new pencils and began to draw. She was an artist, always had been. She'd been president of the Mural and Art clubs in high school, and majored in Art and minored in marketing in college. Her mother didn't approve of her degree, and never had, but because she had been dating a Jeremy her mother hadn't raised that much of a fuss. She'd gotten a job managing an art gallery on the Vegas strip. The Winfield Gallery. She'd had an internship there the summer between freshman year and sophomore year of college, and after she and Jeremy had launched the first of their divorce hearings she had called the owner, Scott Winfield, about a job. He had given her one without hesitation.
It was 7:00 P.M. in Texas right now which meant it was 4:00 P.M. in Vegas. She thought about checking in with her dad, but decided she had a couple of hours and could do that later. She went back to her sketching and thought about that strange phone call she had gotten from Nick earlier. He'd said there was something at a crime scene that had reminded him of their prom pictures. She was dying to know what that had been.
Her cell phone rang from the empty seat beside of her. She didn't bother looking to see who it was. She figured it was her father calling to ask how the flight was.
"Hello?" She asked in a disinterested tone.
There was no response just heavy breathing.
"Hello?" She asked again just in case they didn't hear her.
"Is this Melissa?" The voice asked with an anxious edge.
"Who is this?" She asked when she didn't recognize the voice.
"Is this Nick's red head?"
Her eyes went wide, this was creepy, "Who the hell is this?"
"He still loves you, 'Little Red'. He talks about you in his sleep." The voice said again.
"How did you get this number? What do you want?" She asked as the fear crept into her voice. Little Red was Nick's nickname for her. No one else called her that. Only Nick.
This guy sounded psychotic.
The line suddenly went dead. Some time during the phone call she had dropped the pad and pencil, and now her hands were shaking violently. Did this have something to do with Nick's call? What the hell was happening in Vegas?
She gulped and pressed the "end call" button on her cell phone. Something was very wrong, and she just knew Nick was in danger.
She dialed her father's cell number as quickly as possible. She would have called Nick, but she didn't have his number.
"Hey, sweetie, how was your flight?" Her father greeted her pleasantly.
"Daddy, Nick's in trouble." She said as she stood up and walked over to the television set hanging in the lobby area.
"What do you mean, honey? What's happened?" Her father asked urgently.
"I got a call from some psycho. I didn't recognize the number, but he asked me if I was 'Nick's red head'. He called me Little Red, daddy. Little Red." She said frantically as she noticed the news channel for the first time.
The female news anchor was talking about a murder in Vegas.
"A young woman was found murdered in her Las Vegas home last night. Her body was posed over her toilet and the assailant had dyed his victim's hair a dark shade of red. Authorities now believe the young woman was being stalked . . ."
That was all she heard before she dropped her cell phone.
Posed over a toilet . . . hair dyed red.
That was the scene Nick had been talking about, that was why he had called her this morning.
The killer had used the picture of her passed out over the toilet on prom night. He'd modeled the dead girl's body after her. A violent shiver ran down her spine, as she slowly picked up her cell phone off the floor.
"Melissa, sweetheart, are you there?" She head her father yelling into the phone.
"Dad, call the Las Vegas crime lab, now." She said in a panicky, high pitched voice.
"Melissa, calm down. Tell me what's going on." Her father said slowly and soothingly.
She took a deep breath, and began to recap the events of the day for her father. He'd know how to handle this. He'd know what to do.
Nick, please be safe. She prayed as she spoke.
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angellwings