Gun and Blade, Page III

After the investigation ended with absolutely no further progress made besides the corpse, everyone left for their homes. Richard came upon dinner as soon as he swung the door open. Richard immediately knew it was Rachel--but now why was she not in person? She wasn't here anymore, so what was the point of getting angry at her...

Beer! he cried out in his mind. Richard stumbled forth to the bottle and tore off the note taped to it. His eyes slowly traveled over the words with a handwriting unknown even to him.

To the supposedly Great Richard Moore,

How have you been doing? Rachel and I went through a lot of trouble just to get this for you. Thought it might help to take things off your mind for some time.

--Jimmy Kudo

Richard blinked in confusion. Kudo had actually given something to him--with Rachel as well. Well, at least he wasn't interfering with the big case he was on! Ripping the paper to shreds with a smug chuckle, he swept up the bottle and immediately began drinking. Tae watched from outside through the window--she hadn't seen Conan for the rest of the day. So how did the note with the beer she snuck into the house get taped to the bottle?

Tae slowly walked back to her new "home", at Conan's house. She dragged her feet as she walked, her blue skirt roughly bouncing off her legs, hair doing the same to her back. Occasionally, she glanced up in the direction she was strolling, eyeing every house she passed. Nighttime was dark, though lit by stars. However, this night was rendered without any light to guide her. All there were to lead her were the street lamps.

After what seemed to be an hour, she creaked open the door to the dark yet still too familiar house. She peered into the room and glanced around, head turning to the right before shooting a look to the left. Tae entered the room and slowly clicked the door closed behind her, noticing a layer of soft light that befell the floor. She raised her head to sight a room with the same value color of light outlining the room. Conan? Tae laid her right hand on the railing of the stairs and mounted her way to the top, where the room she believed Conan settled in stood before her. Raising herself with her feet, she managed to reach the dooknob and open it just so a small stream of light spilt onto the floor. Peeking inside, she found Conan, just as she estimated--but he was reading a novel. Written by Booker Kudo, Jimmy's father.

Without even so much of a temporary look at the door, Conan dully answered, "Come in." Tae opened the door halfway and slipped in, shutting the door behind her. She looked around the room--an empty space occupied only with a few seats, soft light, a desk with an impressive potted plant, and Conan himself with the book. Tae ran over to the plant, staring at its every detail. She knew in an instant that Conan wasn't merely bored--he was waiting for the right moment to leave for the warehouse.

"Conan?" Tae finally spoke, tearing her eyes from the plant. "Are you sure it's safe to do--" Conan slammed the book shut. Tae flinched at the echoes of the book but kept Conan within her sight.

"Rachel, you know I've been experiencing these situations for a long time."

He just called me Rachel.

"I know, Jimmy, but you know well you've never interfered with a fight between a gun and a dagger," Tae sighed concernedly.

"I have to do something. If nothing halts or at least subdue the two, we'll be sure to be far from catching them. Rachel, don't follow. At all."

"But Jimmy, I--"

"It'll only put you in danger. I want you to be as far from death as possible."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. I've had experience."

Tae silenced, her eyes traveling to the floor. Her eyes traced every etched pattern on the carpet, which boasted complicated shapes and alignment. She kept quiet, glancing back at Conan every once in a while, catching sight of his watch. Only several seconds away. When Conan's watch struck a quarter after 11, he lifted himself from his seat, steadily glided over to the door, and exited.

Just like that. He's gone.

Tae kept frozen to herself, listening to silence and her suddenly raspy breathing. She slipped out the door and downstairs, sighting a clock hung on the wall. She settled onto a couch, staring at the clock intently. After a few minutes ticked by, she lept to her feet. "Jimmy." Without another thought, another word, she bolted out the door, out onto the cold, darkened pavement.

Conan arrived at the warehouse in a matter of fifteen minutes. He propelled himself off his skateboard as it whirled to a stop. Conan jumped onto a weak crate just outside a window and peered through the soiled glass. No one was inside--yet. Hopping down onto the rough dirt, Conan paused to regain balance, then creaked the door open as he rushed over to it. Conan cautiously looked about the room, hoping that neither killers were there. After assuming they weren't in hiding and haven't arrived yet, Conan shut the door behind him and strolled between avaliable paths. His eyes jolted to the left and right as he walked around the warehouse, examining each dusty crate, floor tile, and wall texture. He dragged himself onto a bench and peered around the room.

To his unnotice, Tae had slipped inside. Without thinking, she dove into hiding, alerting Conan to conceal himself. Someone's here. Before he could act, he stepped on something. Backing away and staring down, he identified it as a calender. It had been turned to the current month and one of the dates in the current week had been cut out.

"So they're meeting on Wednesday," said a voice quietly. Conan looked up to see Tae staring down at him.

"Uh..."

"Hey, I can't let you walk around by yourself headed towards suicide..." she responded in the same tone, smiling.

"Oh, Rache...you can't just leave me alone, can you Rache?" Conan returned the grin as she dropped down from the crate. "I guess we should get home, huh?"

"Yeah..."