Chapter 1: The glamorous client

September 30th, 1949

Worn-out paper crumpled as it was being pushed into Emma Swan's purse when the commotion outside let her know Rita Castillo was about to make her grand entrance to the Chez Magnifique that afternoon. Emma had arrived in Los Angeles 1949 a little over a month ago, and she was now positively sure of one thing. Rita Castillo never disappointed.

She arrived ready to do battle with lipstick and cleavage as her weapons of choice.

What was with Regina Mills and her obsession with pronounced cleavage in fancy dresses? Emma thought, storing the question somewhere in the back of her head to ask the brunette someday when this new curse was broken.

The question, however, remained there, poking her interest because it was something the blonde had always wondered and something she had always coveted from the people in Regina's past. They got to see the Queen wearing those outfits on a daily basis. Mayor Regina was a tad more modest in her way of dressing than the other versions of her that Emma had had the pleasure to meet in the past. Her outfits were always perfectly planned, though, even when Roni's personality had added a bit of carefree to her wardrobe, which Emma had been profusely glad for, especially when she came over for family dinners to her Castle and Regina opened the door clad in those tight devilish dark jeans Emma had grown to love after the realms reunited. However, the blonde knew better than to carry on with the subject or start talking about Regina's dark castle. Emma doubted there was enough bourbon in that bistro's bar to satisfy her thirst if she allowed herself to go there. But talking about outfits and wardrobes, now that she thought about it, Regina Mills also never disappointed.

Her eyes roamed between the members of the Elysian Park Garden Club for a while, lingering more than necessary in one of their members than the rest. She allowed herself to stare brazenly at the previously mentioned cleavage from the comfortable distance that her position at the farther stool of the bar provided. Not that anyone would notice her staring because everyone else was already doing the same, at least every single one of the men she could see from her position, the ones standing near the bar countertop and the bartender too.

Emma picked up her glass of bourbon from the counter of the bar, feeling suddenly thirsty. A thirst that the golden drink efficiently burned away as she downed a mouthful of the beverage.

When she put her glass down, however, someone else caught her eye. A woman outside the bistro's window was staring at Rita from a distance. Her face looked terribly familiar to Emma, unfortunately. She picked her fedora up from the nearest stool, put a bill on the bar countertop, and left the building following the familiar woman on the street. She wasn't only here to break a curse. She was here to prevent a murder or even a bunch of murders if she was extremely lucky.

...

August 30th, 2021

It was late in the afternoon when Killian walked into the Sheriff's station with Hope walking by his side, clutching his hand. Emma barely lifted her eyes from the screen to smile at the three-year-old girl. Her smile was tired but somewhat relieved. She had finally found what she was looking for. She had finally discovered her whereabouts. She could go save Regina now.

"Swan, our daughter needs you. Why don't you come home, take the rest of the day off and continue tomorrow," Killian offered in a cold but caring tone, giving the piece of paper over the blonde's desk a stern look. The letter he had learned to hate rapidly when Emma first showed it to him could always be found around the blonde because she carried it around everywhere she went.

"You know perfectly well I can't take the rest of the day off Killian, I finally found her after months of unstopped research, and if that lost time wasn't concerning enough, I also found her murderer, so excuse me if I keep working until I have a plan to bring her back before she dies," the Sheriff blurted out angrily, and then she seemed to notice Hope was there with them, "Baby, why don't you go home with daddy, and I'll be there to tuck you in when it's time to sleep, alright?" She said sweetly to the girl, the toddler nodded her head in response, "alright Killian?"

"Sure, love," he replied despondently, picking Hope in his arms to leave the station. It was already Hope's sleeping time.

The day Regina disappeared was the day Killian lost his wife. That had happened several months ago, and now he had accepted it. His only concern was that in her quest to find Regina, Emma was neglecting their child, and that needed to stop, even if it meant he had to take it in his hands to bring the Queen back to her.

"Hey Mom, brought you food to keep planning our rescue mission," Henry said, walking into her office with take-out bags from Granny's shortly after Killian left.

"Thanks, kid," She said, genuinely smiling at the young boy. She and Henry were the only people around town that hadn't given up on looking for Regina. This fact made her rage get extraordinarily out of control many times a day. How could any of them stop searching for her? After everything Regina had done for everyone. Some people, like her parents, wanted to respect Regina's decision to get away for her own sake. Emma was willing to forgive them just because they didn't know half of what she knew about the real reason Regina left, nor did many people apart from Killian, Henry, and Zelena, who was the person who helped Regina run away in the first place.

"If you want to get to my sister, I will help you, as long as you find her first, that's what your family do, find the ones you love, isn't it? If you really love her, you will always find her," Zelena had told her the day she found Regina's letter on her desk that horrible morning she disappeared.

The truth was the redhead was as oblivious as everyone else about Regina's whereabouts, and this demand she imposed on the blonde was more of a silent plea for her to try to find Regina more than anything else. She had a frightening hunch that the curse she had helped her sister to enact hadn't worked the way it should, and anything could have happened to the brunette if that was the case. Since Regina had been mysterious enough to hide from her where she was going, she had no way to know what had happened to her little sister, and that was a scary notion, one that she wasn't willing to let on about to the blonde.

"So how will we wake my mom from the curse, and what will we do about this Alma Fillcot?" Henry asked suddenly, pulling Emma from her memories of the day Regina left. Her eyes fixed on her PC, where a bunch of old newspaper cuttings cluttered her screen. They had finally found some answers about the brunette in the Los Angeles Public Library newspaper archives.

"Well, first we gotta make a name for ourselves when we arrive there because this new personality of your mother sure as hell looks like she doesn't mingle with the rabble, but has she ever anyways?" Emma said, turning to look at her son.

"How do we do that?"

"You know what else is in these old newspapers apart from serial killers and Elysian Park Garden Club's annual fundraising news? Sports pages and score sheets, we are traveling in time, kid. We could get enough money to buy a town in no time if we wanted to."

"Sweet."

"And after we make a name for ourselves, we have to stop Alma, so we need to learn everything about her before we go, from what time she woke up in the mornings to what was her daughter's favorite hangout spot downtown."

"Right, and then we bring her back home, and you two can live happily ever after," he smiled.

"We all can Henry, if she'll have me, that's the plan."

...

October 1st, 1949

Rita Castillo walked through the avenue with a petulant smile on her face. The memory of the veterinarian's wife's wishful look when she invited her to their annual fundraising was still fresh in her memory, filling her gut with thrilling anticipation. It was always fun having someone to laugh at in those boring gatherings, and the woman had plenty of aspects to her persona for Rita and her friends to ridicule, or so it seemed.

The building she walked in was none of the sorts of places she used to visit, the walls could use a lick of paint, and the hall required better illumination. The floors were plain, and the tapping of her heels against ceramic tiles made her visit get a clinic connotation that she disliked.

The door signage she stopped to contemplate for a second read Vern Loomis Private Investigator. She smiled, convinced he was what she needed precisely.

"Excuse me. I'm looking for Vern Loomis, the private investigator," she yanked the door open confidently, prepared to find any kind of man behind that desk. But certainly not the woman she found instead.

Emma Swan leaned back in her chair, with her high heels resting on the papers that cluttered the desk and her curves well clad in a caramel-brown trench coat. She pushed her fedora up with her index finger so that the woman at the door got to see the full extent of her emerald eyes when she replied.

"Mr. Loomis no longer works here. He won the lottery and retired."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He was surprised as well, he said he didn't even buy the ticket. Someone anonimously mailed it to him. Imagine that," Emma explained, swinging her legs off the desk.

"Imagine that indeed," Rita agreed, stepping in the office and closing the door behind her back, suddenly interested in finding out what was this woman doing in the former office of the private investigator she wanted to hire, "excuse me, but you look very familiar. Have we met before?"

Emma's heart skipped a beat. She shook the feeling off her chest when she saw in Rita's face that it was just an expression to break the ice. She didn't look familiar to the woman in the least.

"We haven't been formally introduced, I'm afraid. Emma Swan, private investigator, how can I help you, Mrs. Castillo? Please take a seat," she pointed at the only chair in front of the desk.

"So you know who I am, Miss Swan," Rita's eyebrow arched, intrigued. Emma looked away for a moment, trying to appease her facial expression after being called that name again by her, "aren't you the woman who moved a couple of blocks from my house about a month ago?"

"In the flesh."

"I'm sorry, but pray tell me how does a private investigator job helps paying the bills to you new mansion?" Rita was still standing behind the offered chair when she scanned the blonde up and down as if she could see right through her and assess if she was lying.

"It's more of a pastime you see, the mansion was paid with the money my late husband Neal left me, if you must know," Emma shrugged, leaning back on her chair and adopting an even more nonchalant pose to offer the woman in front of her.

"Are you any good?" Rita asked, believing for some reason in Emma's word. If it was out of pure gullibility or despair, she didn't know.

"The best in town where I come from," Emma smiled confidently. She wasn't strictly lying about that.

"Can I trust you to be discreet?" Rita asked, shifting her weight between her feet and making her hips look more prominent under her fitted skirt if it were possible.

"For the right price, I can be quiet as a tomb," Emma declared, allowing herself to roam her eyes up and down the woman in front of her, taking in every aspect of her like Rita had done a moment ago with the blonde.

Absolutely stunning.

"Wonderful. I'm here because I heard Mr. Loomis specialty was investigating infidelity. Is that up your alley?"

"It's my bread and butter," Emma let out slowly, licking her lips unconsciously but noticing Rita's eyes following the action with her eyes, "You think your husband is cheating on you?" The blonde asked carefully. She knew everything about Carlo Castillo, including the date of his death a month or so from now.

"No." Rita answered sternly as if the mere insinuation of such concern was ridiculous to conceive. "The man I need you to follow is my lover", Emma's eyebrow darted up, not because she was surprised. She also knew everything about Scooter Polarsk. However, Rita's bluntness in confessing her loving affairs was something Emma hadn't seen before.

Regina had always been reserved when talking about her love life. Hell, she should know about that after finding out she loved her from a letter instead of her lips. It was almost as if the brunette had never felt she deserved their love as if she were stealing from them and was going to be asked to return everything if she talked about it loud enough for anyone to hear. That was precisely what ultimately had always happened in the brunette past, so she couldn't really blame her. Rita, however, was completely different from the Mayor or the Queen. It was refreshing seeing her so carefree.

"So you're the cheater?" Emma let out distractedly after she thought she had been silent too long. Rita had moved from behind the chair and now stood in front of the desk.

"Only if you're working for my husband," Rita replied, leaning a little closer to the blonde over the desk before she finally took that seat she had offered her.

"My lover's name is—. God help me, Scooter Polarsky." Regina said, almost blushing like the unfortunate name of her lover was more embarrassing than the fact that she had a lover, "That's his address and headshot," she explained, handing Emma the picture of the young man. Something about the guy's warm smile made the detective's gut revolve.

"An actor?" She was playing her part, looking surprised as the situation required, "Has he ever been in anything?"

"Besides debt? No."

There was that utter bluntness again.

"So you like to support the arts?" Emma asked, eyebrow almost reaching her scalp.

"This is not some tawdry affair, Miss Swan." Rita said with a smile, and Emma was surprised again because she kept calling her Miss after learning she was a widow. It was highly unusual. Most people here called her Mrs Swan to be safe and respect the name of a man they had never met. Not Rita Castillo, apparently. This fact kind of warmed Emma's heart because somehow it made her believe that deep inside, Rita remembered her, "I care deeply about this young man", or maybe she didn't.

"The guy you want me to tail?" She replied with a skeptical tone that she couldn't keep at bay in time, putting aside the photo in her hand.

"Scooter is immature", Rita replied, ignoring her skepticism, "He has not yet grasped the importance of fidelity," she explained, writing a number down in a check she pulled from her purse.

"That's funny—, coming from Mrs. Castillo," Emma let out, looking at Rita right in the eye with a defiant smile, almost as if she was daring her to differ.

"Carlo is a vile man with a weak heart. When we got married, he swore he wouldn't make it to 70. He's now 80," Rita explained, and suddenly Emma was more concerned than a minute ago. The brunette didn't sound like someone who had been cursed. The details of her marriage sounded very specific for someone who should have a fuzzy memory of the past few months, let alone the past ten years or more of her unhappy marriage. "If he's not going to keep his wedding vows, why should I?" Regina asked, handing her the check with a very substantial amount of money written in styled calligraphy. Emma had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing at how preposterous Rita's conception of wedding vows sounded when she said it in that silky tone she had used, "I hope that's more than enough payment for a job well done?" Rita interrupted her thoughts.

Emma gave the check another look. Remembering the picture of the young actor that now laid somewhere over her desk, the blonde decided she would have done the job of uncovering his lies for free.

"Plus expenses", she said instead, and this time Rita's eyebrow was the one darting up.

"Will that be much?" It was not that the brunette really cared about the money. She was genuinely curious about what the detective's answer would be to her question.

"I'm an expensive lady. But for you i'll try to restrain," Emma winked an eye, expecting to get an aghast reaction from Rita, but it never came.

"Not too much, I hope", Rita replied, brazenly looking Emma up and down again.

Rita's carefree demeanor was shocking, to say the least, but the blonde was planning to put its boundaries to the test.

"What is it you want me to find when I tail this young friend of yours, Mrs. Castillo?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't need to hire you, Miss Swan."

"It may surprise you to learn that most people hire me to tell them things they already know," she said, wriggling her eyebrows triumphantly. "Things like 'Your wife is seeing another man.' Or 'Your maid is pawning your silver cutlery.' Then there is 'Your missing dog is most likely dead,' and 'The young actor you are sponsoring has a lover.' You are a gorgeous woman." Emma explained, looking intently at the brunette when she said the last part.

"People hire you to tell them they are beautiful?" Rita queried, holding her intense gaze.

"Oh no, sorry, that was me getting a little carried away. Do you ever get carried away Mrs. Castillo?"

"You have some nerve," Rita laughed, leaning back in her chair to get a broader view of the young woman in front of her, "Do you flirt with all your clients?"

"Only the ones I find exquisitely appealing, but yet again usually my clients are the ones who flirt with me," she replied, getting up from her chair and walking to the coat stand near the door. She felt Rita's eyes following her with every step she took.

"I suppose you are the kind of woman, men wouldn't be able to resist, so it doesn't come as a real surprise that your clients flirt with you," Rita emphasized on the noun as if trying to convince someone in the office that only men would find the blonde appealing. She wasn't really sure if that person she tried to convince was the blonde or herself.

Emma hung her fedora first, and her long golden curls fell cascading around her shoulders. Then she shrugged off her trench coat, hanging it beside her hat.

Rita looked flustered when the blonde turned around swiftly to meet her gaze, and she wasn't able to take it off her best assets, at least not quickly enough. Emma was sinfully wrapped in a coral red dress that was too fitted to be from this period and perhaps too short as well.

"Will that be all Mrs. Castillo?" Emma asked, pulling the door of the office open for her, making sure the best bits of her assets were pointing at her, "if you excuse me I have a lot of work to catch up with, I will contact you as soon as I have news on Mr. Polarsky's hidden affairs."

Rita Castillo left the detective's office without as much as giving her a last glance. She walked beside the blonde, turning up her nose at her, offended by her blunt way of dismissing her from the premises.

AN/: I may have based detective Emma in certain Melody Malone, but hush nobody noticed.