Chapter 4 – Let the Flames Begin

Ten days ago…

Natara Williams

Dear Mal,

Please ignore the horrible writing. Or just try to understand. Riverside is fun!. Truth is; this conference is not as boring as I thought it would be. Ever since I left I've been stuck in a mansion, being waited on hand and foot. Relaxing for both of us, Mal. Is Elena okay? She has grown to be such a beautiful girl. Remember our last conference in Atlantic City, and you got so drunk and played Black Jack until the casino owner told you "Please, leave?" Ever since, I've had this weird feeling that I can see the future, so you should these numbers in the lotto and see how they work out. Amazingly, I was able to come up these: 16 15 18 20 5 18 7 22 2 10 2 12 7. Please, don't forget these! EVERYONE can see that these are winning numbers! Remember to take care of yourself, stay safe, and tell Elena I said hi.

Love,

Natara

I swear to God, Mal is you cannot decode this letter I will STRANGLE you when I get out of here…

"My Lady, is your letter finished? Master is ready to leave and Gerald is going to stop at the post office while they are out."

I hope I'm not here long enough to get used to being called "My Lady" by a woman wearing a French maid costume and thigh high leather boots. Ugh…

"I just finished, Samantha. Thank you very much." I smile as she takes my sealed letter and exits. Now all I can do is pray…

Present Day...

Elena Fallon

Why does Jason keep making me wait? AP Psych, my favorite class, could not have dragged longer. What's the surprise?

"Thanks for meeting me here. Hey, do you mind putting this on?"

"Why do I need to be blindfolded?"

"For good reason." And then he grins…

"Whatever."

I trust Jason. I doubt he's going to do anything that will make me have to pull out my twelve years of kick boxing and everything my dad taught me. I could crush him.

So, we sit in the car what feels like forever until we come to a complete stop somewhere very, very loud. There's old school playing… Is this Rihanna? And the smell, it smells like my favorite Cake Batter flavor ice cream from Coldstone. Haha… Where am I?

Jason Hartland

It seems like she completely forgot what today is so I am not only the best, best friend ever, but I am also going to be the greatest person on the planet for this. Deep breath… Here it goes…

Elena Fallon

"Can I take it off now? It's making my nose itch…" I'm so excited! What is going on?

"Of course. Take off the blindfold and open your eyes."

What I see before me is magical. Undeniably stunning. I find myself inside of Coldstone Creamery, decorated with fake roses all over the counter and the tables. Then I see it. My prom dress hanging behind a table that is holding a glass bowl the size of first base filled with Cake Batter ice cream topped with whipped cream in the shape of a heart and purple frosting cake pops lining the far side of the bowl. My mouth is on the floor. I must look like an idiot. Only because I am one, because I just remembered!

"Happy friend-iversary! Oh my gosh, I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry about it. Look a little closer at your bowl."

"Okay…"

I hadn't realized that the cake pops spelled something. 'P-R-O-M-?' My heart stops. And he's grinning. I can feel it. I won't even turn around to give him the satisfaction of seeing me blush because of this.

"Well, Elena?" He says as he grabs my wrist and turns me around to look at him. I was so right. He's grinning like his life depends on it. My heart feels like it's going to pop out of my chest. "Will you go to prom with me?"

This question… I mean of course but I already thought that was happening. What does all of this mean? Shit, answer him!

"Of course! I thought that you were already my date?" I say as I smack him on the shoulder. GET BACK IN THE FRIEND ZONE, ELENA.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't want to go to prom without being asked in a special way. When you look back at this moment, and you're telling your children how great your best friend is you'll be able to tell them about being asked to prom. Your welcome."

"Thank you for being soooo considerate of my unborn children, Jason. However, my husband would probably hate that I'm talking about some other man in such valiance."

"He'll get over it, because I'm not going anywhere. So, let's dig into this thing before it melts. Cake pop?" He says as he takes one gently out of my ice cream bowl and offers it to me.

"Don't mind if I do."

Jason Hartland

Then it happened. As she took the cake pop from me, she gently brushed my hand with hers and my entire body lit on fire. I stared at her and she stared at me, holding the cake pop up to her mouth, like how one would hold a flower if they were smelling it. She's always been beautiful to me, but for some reason, my heart starts pounding out of my chest and my manhood has become rock solid. I want her. I want her now. And as I stare at her, she stares at me and her breathing changes. She parts her mouth a little as her breathing gets harder. Then she sets the cake pop down on the table, turns back to me, and makes me the happiest man on Earth.

Mal Fallon

Sitting at my desk at the precinct is saddening considering my partner is still nowhere to be found. This case is leading me to dead ends all over the place. I hate that Natara isn't here to help me. And the 'Grim Reaper' isn't making any moves, yet so his trail is dry. I just wish I had a lead…

"Mal, mail for you."

"Thanks, Rick." A letter? No return address.

A conference? That's impossible. We haven't been to a conference since 2016. And Atlantic City never happened, officially. Oh my God. Wait, this doesn't make any sense… Natara is way too smart to write these choppy sentences. Could she be drunk? Drugged? She claims she's fine, and if she was able to write to me then she must be somewhat safe. Unless this letter is a fake. What does she mean try to understand? Something is not right.

…

Wait; please IGNORE the horrible writing… So you want me to pay attention to it… but what about it? That's it... The beginnings of the sentences. They're what make the sentences seem choppy. The sentences don't feel full, they feel like place holders for...

The letters. The first letter of every sentence is capitalized so that it would stand out…

Holy, shit!