Dates (L)
California is such a strange place…
I stare up at the buildings and the people I pass as I make my way to the Los Angeles Police Station.
The warmth of the sun dances on my skin and I squint at the building that looks like the one I saw online.
Oh so this is the station.
Before I'm about to grab the handle of the door, a hand seizes my shoulder.
Instincts take over and I end up pinning this man to the ground, threatening his safety.
"Impressive" a voice behind me.
I turn my head to see this short, chunky man in an ill-fitting suit smiling at me.
"Welcome, I'm sorry if Agent Hopkins startled you. He's new."
I turn back and stare at the groaning man underneath me.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were a police officer."
I get off of him; he grimaces and gets up as well.
"Come on inside."
I follow the short man to the very back of the station.
We exit the station from the next exit, to get into a black car. (I'll explain later if you don't understand teehee)
Smart.
The safest place to be is certainly not the police station.
The car drives us to a hotel where the short man has a room set up already.
The room is no bigger than the one I'm staying at.
Peach colored walls complemented by a floral print bed. Beside the bed, a long window overlooking the skyline of Los Angeles. Many couches surround one coffee table. On these couches is equipment, probably belonging to the handful of men conversing while sipping coffee in the small kitchen to my left.
Black suits, black sunglasses, they all look like spies out of a cheap Hollywood movie.
I stop myself from laughing, only to smile.
When the door shuts behind me, all the men stop and look in my direction.
As soon as they spot me, they rush to the couches and sit down, waiting for instruction.
"Okay, now that everyone is here, we can begin the presentation."
I silently slip into a chair and pull up my feet underneath me, wondering what the presentation is.
This man with jet black hair and hazel eyes turns.
"I'm sure you have heard about the killings lately by a potential serial killer in our region."
I slightly nod while biting on my thumb.
"Well, two days ago, he or she killed again. A young brunette college boy."
He pauses and hesitates to find the correct words to say.
Another man speaks up, a blonde.
"We would like you to take a look at these photos."
He hands me this manila envelope.
"These are all the people we think he has murdered. Because each one of them has the same numbers inscribed deep within the flesh of their torsos.
"Okay" I say nonchalantly without opening the envelope.
"We really need your help; we have tried just about everything to get this person and –"
The blonde gets cut off by the chunky man.
"-We aren't dealing with a person who has a normal IQ here. We speculate that he or she was one of the individuals who lived in the same orphanage you grew up in. We aren't entirely sure."
Whammy's Orphanage.
"May I please see all your credentials?"
I pull out my phone and stare at them gravely.
The men look confused at one another; some glare at me for not trusting them.
"Ahem, sure."
Just as the short man pulls out his badge, all of them do so.
I take a picture of all of their badges and slip my phone back into my loose jeans.
"May I ask why you did that sir?" The man, whose name is Brian Hopkins and was the one I tackled earlier, narrowed his eyes in my direction.
"You can never be too cautious of your surroundings."
They look at each other and then back at me.
Suffocating silence settles between us.
"Is it okay if I take this home with me so I can look at the contents?" I pull up the envelope between my thumb and ring finger.
"Oh! Yes! sure." The chunky man, known as Billy Mathews exclaims enthusiastically.
I smile and look once more around the room.
"Before you go over all your findings, can we order room service?"