The halls of Acme were quiet, empty. Most detectives were working abroad on their current cases. All except one brother-sister duo. Zack and Ivy were celebrating. They'd stopped Carmen's last caper cold. They didn't catch her of course but they were able to return the stolen goods, which was celebration enough. Currently kicked back in front of the computer the two were at ease, bickering lightly as always.
"We could have caught her," Zack lamented.
"We almost had her," Ivy nodded.
"There's always next time," Chief offered brightly.
"Yeah, but.." Zack started only to pause at the sound of a door opening.
The duo turned both stifling gasps.
"Carmen?!"
Before them stood a young woman in a bright red shirt, stone-washed jeans, and canvas slip-on. Her dark hair lazily spilling past her shoulders, a backpack slung over her right arm, a bankers box tucked in her left.
"You see? This is why I don't wear red to work!" she exclaimed, shooting the chief a look.
"Zack, Ivy, meet Melissa our one-woman cold case team," Chief beamed.
Melissa offered a small smile, "Hello,"
The brother-sister duo stood circling her.
"Are you related to Carmen?"
"Not that I'm aware, Zack," she replied, green eyes burning into him.
"Headed out?" Chief questioned, separating her and the duo.
"Yeah, you don't mind if I use the C5 do you?"
"Nope, go ahead,"
"Well then, see you tomorrow,"
"How long has she worked here?" Ivy questioned.
"Are you sure she isn't a clone?" Zack added.
"WHOA!" Chief demanded, "Slow down. Melissa's worked here for almost two years in the lower levels of the building. She isn't a clone, just a person,"
The two dropped the matter for now, returning to their mini celebration.
…...
The twenty-year-old unlocked the door to her apartment, struggling to keep ahold on the box she was carrying. Once inside she set the box on the end table next to her couch and surveyed the room, finding it the same as when she left. Mismatched furniture bought cheaply. Breakfast bowl left on the coffee table, surrounded by charts. The TV still going. Kicking off her shoes she moved to the bedroom placing her backpack on her neatly made bed and falling back onto her mattress with a yawn. There she stayed until a black and white fluff ball climbed onto her face.
Carefully picking it up she smiled, "Hello, Oreo,"
The long-haired Chihuahua yipped happily, wriggling in her grasp. The apartment complex didn't allow big dogs, the boarding school she'd been forced to attend didn't allow pets period so Melissa was more than happy to settle for Oreo.
"C'mon boy time for a walk,"
…...
Carmen swept into her room, exhausted she sat on her bed. Even though her weeks-long heist was done there were other matters to deal with. The most pressing of which ambled into her room without knocking.
"Chance, we need to talk,"
"Hello to you too, Mom," Chance deadpanned, flopping into the nearest chair.
At sixteen Chance was as tall as Carmen and growing still. Wearing a tank and swim trunks it was clear where he had been headed again.
"You haven't been doing your school work," Carmen declared.
"Oh, you noticed," Chance replied running a hand through his blonde hair, sliver-blue eyes sweeping over the room.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Avalon, you're still trying to find her, you still think she's alive,"
"She is,"
"You have no proof of that," Chance argued, "You should be training me to take over one day instead you're chasing a ghost,"
"I'm not training you because you aren't applying yourself,"
"Even if I was you're rarely around,"
"You never want to go,"
Chance's retort died. His mother always won these arguments. Always.
"Go to your room and pack, we're headed to the mountains,"
He grumbled, shuffling toward the door.
"Chance,"
He turned.
"I love you,"
"Yeah right,"
…..
"Good morning, Melissa," Chief greeted as she stepped through the doors the following day.
"Morning, Chief," she smiled, "I cracked my case,"
"Who did it?" Chief asked eagerly.
"Carmen,"
"How do you figure that?"
"Because," Melissa set the banker's box down and opened it, "The only eyewitness reported seeing something red running past the museum skylight, the footage was grainy but if you'll look closely," she plugged a flash drive into the computer and did her best to zoom on the footage. "It's a woman in a fedora. This piece was stolen during Carmen's first year as a thief, there are rumors that she was a thief for hire during this period which explains the lack of theme. If I could run facial recognition I'd have all the proof I'd need,"
"Lemme speak to the whiz kids and see what they can do," Chief smiled, "Nice work, Melissa,"
"Thank you, I'll be downstairs, there's paperwork to do,"
Down five floors and to the right was Melissa's office. Just outside the storage area. She pushed the door open with her foot and flipped on the light. As the light flickered overhead, she booted up the computer and set down her bag next to the stack of paperwork. Settling into her chair she started the long time-consuming task before her.
...
"Chance! Get up!"
"Are you going to stop obsessing over my dead sister?"
Carmen sighed heavily, "What's this really about?"
"Nothing,"
"You are not a good liar,"
"Just go away,"
"Will you get up?"
"If you go away,"
"Fine, breakfast in ten minutes,"
Chance waited until his mother shut the bedroom door to roll out of bed. He didn't understand it. She had him! Why was she so desperate to find his sister? She had always wanted to find her. It was always the same. Avalon this and Avalon that. Quite frankly, he was at his wits end leaving in the shadow of someone dead. Why couldn't it ever be about him?
...
"Ugh!" Melissa grunted pushing the last of her paperwork aside.
Finally, she was done. Tossing a glance to the clock above the computer she discovered it was barely noon.
Well, I did come in at six in the morning she mused
"Melissa, guess what?" Chief said excitedly, popping up on her monitor.
"What?" she asked expectantly.
"You were right! It was Carmen,"
"Thank goodness, I've been on that case for three months! What now?"
"Take the rest of the day off, you've already finished your paperwork,"
"But-"
"No buts you have so much unused vacation time kids would be jealous!"
"Okay, okay, I'm going,"
…...
"Hi, Melissa, where are you headed?" Ivy asked.
"Home," Melissa shrugged, "I finished everything,"
"What time did you come in?" Zack asked turning away from his video game.
"Six AM. There's not much else for me to do," she sighed, "I'm going to cuddle with my dog and take a long nap,"
"See you tomorrow?"
"Maybe,"
…...
I hate this school! I hate the people in it! I hate everything. They call me a heathen and a charity case. They say I should consider myself lucky to be here but I don't feel the least bit lucky if anything I feel like an outcast, a prime target for the elitist bullies. Once a day I'm expected to meet with the school consoler and the behavior specialist. They want to read my journals. "Charting my progress" HA! I've been writing since I learned how, putting the crapshoot that is my life to paper. Only for my eyes, no one else's. When I'm not doing this, I'm drawing.
Which brings me to my current problem. They're always trying to steal my sketchbooks.
Melissa slammed the journal shut and put it back in the box, anger boiling under her skin. She carried the box-filled with journals and sketchbooks-to her closet placing it beside the other boxes all filled with the same.
If only they could see me now. A detective! She smirked to herself before frowning, If I had a mom would she be proud of me? I suppose I'll never know.