Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.
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Case 01: The Dame Who Knew Too Much
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Edward Cullen, private eye extraordinaire, was bored.
It had been a slow week at the office. Only one person had requested his services, and that case was so simple, it was resolved within a couple of hours. All he could do now was wait for another - hopefully, more mentally stimulating - case to land on his lap.
The late afternoon sun lit up the Chicago skyline. He closed the blinds to block the glare. With his feet propped on top of his desk, he read the front page of the Tribune. There had been headlines for weeks about how some looney named Hitler was making a land grab in Europe, but there was no mention of it in this edition. Today's paper featured the same bland jumble of news Edward had seen a thousand times. Congress fighting against FDR's policies. A city official accused of graft. A low-level mobster gunned down in the street. Nothing new, nothing of interest.
There came a knock. A silhouette of a person stood on the other side of the frosted glass door. Edward lowered the newspaper and stared. It was nearing five o'clock in the evening, the time when the building's custodian came to empty the trash cans. But Edward's intuition said this wasn't him. Bernard couldn't sneak up to Edward's door even if he tried. The building's creaky floorboards (and Bernard's heavy tread) made it impossible.
"Come in," Edward said.
The door opened. The first thing he zeroed in on was a pair of finely-shaped legs in silk stockings.
This was most certainly not the custodian.
His eyes traveled upward, savoring the view. The woman was young, somewhere in that sweet spot between twenty and twenty-five if he had to guess. Her dress was tailored to fit her figure. If he could get her out of those clothes, he had a hunch the label would show it was made by a well-known designer. She had class and money, that was for certain. A wide-brim hat sat at an angle on her head, casting half of her face in shadow. She had cherry-red lips and a creamy complexion that looked good enough to eat. But it was her eyes that nearly did Edward in. They were a soft, dark brown that exuded a mysterious inner glow.
And if there was anything on this earth that he liked doing, it was solving a mystery.
"Excuse me," she said, "I'm looking for Edward Cullen of Cullen Investigations."
The sound of her voice woke him from his lust-induced stupor. He scrambled to remove his legs from the desk and sat upright in his chair. "That would be me." He motioned toward the empty chair across the desk from himself. "Please, take a seat."
"Thank you."
The woman crossed her legs like a lady when she sat down. She removed her hat, thereby revealing glossy, shoulder-length brown hair. After she had made herself comfortable, she looked at him straight-on. There wasn't an ounce of shyness about her. She was the type of woman who knew what she wanted, and she would see that she got it.
The younger, naïve version of Edward would have been putty in the hands of such a woman.
Life experience and the extensive study of the romantic relationships of others had wised him up.
Tying yourself to some dame for eternity was risky. That sweetheart you married might end up being a nag in disguise, telling you what to do and how to live. Not only that, but the mere concept of matrimony turned him off. It was too emotional for his taste. You would endure constant worry over your spouse's well-being. You would suffer depression if the two of you were apart for too long. And heaven help you if you ever got jealous.
Edward much preferred the freedom of permanent bachelorhood. He got to have his fun with the fairer sex without his heart ever getting involved.
And he would see to it that he and this beautiful specimen of a woman would have loads of fun together.
He gifted her with a disarming smile. "Good afternoon. Are you here for business or pleasure?"
"Business."
She had not responded in the way he had anticipated. Where was the not-so-subtle lip lick? The flutter of eyelashes? Or even a blush indicating her innocence in the language of sex?
This was a first. This woman wasn't flirting back.
While he was still reeling, she opened her handbag and pulled out a small photograph. "I'm looking for my father."
Edward took the photo and studied it well. It was a black and white headshot of a middle-aged man. He had a thin mustache, dark hair, and a defiant gaze. Other than the mustache, Edward could see the family resemblance.
Once the image had been thoroughly examined, Edward gave it back to the woman. "How long has your father been missing?"
"I'm not sure. I went out of town earlier this month, and when I returned last week, he was gone. According to the neighbors, he hasn't been seen in several days. I've been worried sick."
Edward studied her closely. Her expression held little emotion for someone claiming to be distraught over a missing family member. Usually, he was an excellent judge of character. But this dame? He couldn't get a read on her. He would need to question her further.
He leaned forward, clasping his fingers together on top of the desk. "Do you live in the same household as your father?"
"No, Mother died when I was a baby and left behind a sizable inheritance, so I was able to buy my own apartment when I came of age." She dropped her voice, as though to share a dark secret. "My mother's side of the family owns a meat packing plant. Grandfather Higginbotham wasn't happy when Mother fell in love with a police officer. He believed she could have done better for herself if she had married a rich man of her social class. It took months before he agreed to the marriage."
"I see. So, your father is a widower and lives alone?"
"That's right. I visit him weekly. He doesn't go out much now that he's retired from the force. His name is Charles Swan, the former chief of police."
Edward nodded, recognizing the name. "When was the last time you heard from him?"
"I phoned him the day before I went out of town. He wished me a safe trip. I tried calling several times while I was away, but he never answered."
"If you're concerned about him, why haven't you contacted the authorities?"
"I did. His old buddies down at the station told me not to worry. They said he probably went on a fishing trip, but that doesn't make sense. His fishing gear is still in the basement. I doubt he would have left it all behind if he intended to go fishing."
Edward hummed as he digested the information. He had only heard good things about the former police chief. Chief Swan cleaned house when he first took over the top spot on the police force. He stripped a dozen cops of their badges due to their corruption. Chief Swan couldn't be bought, and he was in favor of dismantling the city's illegal gambling and prostitution rings.
That would make Charles Swan an enemy of the Chicago mafia.
"I understand why you're concerned... Miss Swan, isn't it?" Edward waited to hear her proper title. He only pursued unmarried ladies.
"It's Ms. Isabella Swan."
He smiled. She was of age, single, and underneath her lady-like exterior, he detected feistiness. He was liking her more and more.
"I'll take your case, Ms. Swan, but I must warn you: I don't come cheap."
"Name your price."
"Twenty-five bucks a day, plus expenses."
"Agreed." Ms. Swan pulled out a wad of cash from her handbag and tossed it on the desk. "Is this enough to cover your retainer?"
Edward thumbed through the money. It was four crisp $20 bills. With any luck, he would find Charles Swan alive and well. And the lovely Ms. Swan, grateful for her father's safe return, would reward Edward by giving herself to him for a night. He would see to it that she enjoyed their romp in the sack as much - if not more - than himself.
"That'll do." He shoved the cash into his front pocket. "What's your father's home address? I'll start the investigation from there."
"1147 Chandler Street. Would you like for me to write it down?"
Edward chuckled. "That isn't necessary, doll. I have a great memory."
Ms. Swan eyed him for a beat. "Is there anything else you need, Mr. Cullen?"
Yes, I need to have your bare legs wrapped around my waist while I'm buried inside of you.
Edward couldn't help but smirk at the mental image. "The address should be enough for now."
"All right." She rose from her chair and put her hat back on. "I'll be away visiting a relative in Aurora, so you won't be able to contact me. Meet me two days from now at the diner around the corner. Seven o'clock sharp. We can discuss how the search has progressed and decide what to do from there."
Edward nodded. "Sounds like a plan."
He watched as she turned to leave. Her walk was sinful, made of swaying hips and feminine confidence. He bit his knuckles at the display.
The time when he could see her again couldn't come fast enough.
00000000000000000000
Two days passed. Edward arrived at the Silver Fork Diner exactly one minute before seven in the evening. There was only a sprinkling of customers. He found the lovely Ms. Isabella Swan sitting alone on a barstool at the very end of the counter. Her blue dress was exceptionally flattering to both her figure and complexion.
He walked up to her. "Good evening."
"Good evening to you as well, Mr. Cullen."
Edward removed his trenchcoat and fedora before claiming the stool next to her. She waited until he was settled to say what was on her mind.
"Do you have any ideas on what may have happened to my father?"
"Better than that. I found him."
"You did?"
His smile was smug. "Of course I did. I'm Edward Cullen."
She rolled her eyes at his cockiness. "You're not the first person I hired to find him, Mr. Cullen. The other two private investigators were so incompetent they weren't capable of finding a worm in a bait shop. And based on your reputation, I wasn't holding out much hope that you were any better."
"My reputation?"
"Yes, the word on the street is that you're an unrepentant skirt-chaser. "
Edward pursed his lips. "I can't deny that charge. I do enjoy my off time, and I prefer spending it with a willing female companion. But, I also take my work seriously. My job is always my top priority."
Ms. Swan nodded, satisfied by the response. "So, about my father..."
"Hello!" The boy working behind the counter appeared to be around eighteen years old. He had slicked-back blond hair and a pimple on the end of his nose. "Welcome to the Silver Fork. What can I bring ya?"
Ms. Swan didn't miss a beat at the interruption. "I'll have a hamburger sandwich and a coffee, please."
"Coming right up!" The boy glanced at Edward and, almost instantly, his smile vanished. "And you, sir?"
"Nothing for me."
Ms. Swan sent him a scolding look. "Mr. Cullen, you can't expect me to eat while you just sit there and watch. It's rude."
He frowned. "You're right. I'll take a coffee."
The boy set two cups in front of them and poured in steaming coffee. Afterward, he hurried off to cook the hamburger. Ms. Swan took a sip from her cup. Edward appreciated how her full bottom lip curved around the rim, not allowing a drop of the hot liquid to slip out.
She set down the cup. "Tell me about my father. Is he well?"
"He's fit as a fiddle."
"I'm glad to hear it. Where did you find him?"
"Before we get into that, allow me to explain something that might upset you. It appears he has been purposely keeping you in the dark about some things."
"Oh? Of what nature?"
"His personal life." Edward pulled a bundle of photographs from his trenchcoat's pocket and handed them over for her to inspect. "Charles has a girlfriend who lives on the other side of town. I asked around and heard he's been staying with her for the past two weeks. And it isn't the first time either. He goes over there often."
Ms. Swan flipped through the photographs, pausing momentarily on the one showing her father smooching his girlfriend on a sofa. It was obvious the shot was taken through a window.
"How did he look, Mr. Cullen?"
"Happy. I don't think anything's wrong with him... except for being in love. I'm afraid he has a bad case of it. He barely left her side."
"And what of the lady?"
"Sue Clearwater. Been widowed three and a half years. Apartment paid for in full. Owns a little dress shop. She appeared equally as infatuated with him."
Ms. Swan tried giving the photographs back to Edward, but he said that they were hers to keep. She thanked him and set the photos aside.
"Well, I must admit that I am impressed with your work. You must really know your stuff. How on earth did you figure out where my father was?"
Edward concealed a smile behind his coffee cup. He liked the appraising gleam in her eyes as she looked him up and down. The chances of him getting lucky with her that night were increasing by the second.
"Tracking and surveillance, ma'am," he replied. "It's all about knowing what you should be looking for."
The food arrived. She dove into the hamburger with gusto. She moaned about how good it tasted. She licked the juices off her lips frequently. And, by God, it was downright titillating when she sucked off a dollop of ketchup from the end of her index finger.
Edward squirmed on his stool. Ms. Swan was making things a bit tight down below...
"Mmm! Mr. Cullen, you're missing out. This food is delicious."
"It's all right. I'm enjoying watching you eat it."
She shook her head as she wiped a napkin across her mouth. "You simply must have something to celebrate the successful conclusion of the case. I insist."
"I'm not hungry."
"You don't have room for even dessert? Please, Mr. Cullen. It would mean the world to me." She paused, her head tilting slightly. "Unless... If money is the problem, I wouldn't mind helping out. Pick anything on the menu and I'll pay. It'll be my treat."
"What? No! Money is not a problem. I have more than I know what to do with."
"If that's the case, you really have no excuse not to join me." She signaled for the diner employee to come closer. "Hello. My friend here would like some dessert to go along with his coffee. Is there anything you want in particular, Mr. Cullen?"
Edward shrugged. He had no appetite for anything on the diner's menu. He was going along with this only because she had used his pride against him.
She addressed the diner employee again. "What types of pie do you serve?"
"We're outta all the pies except for the rhubarb. Though, we do have other desserts available, like bread pudding, carrot cake-"
"The rhubarb pie should do nicely. Mr. Cullen would like one slice, please."
The employee returned and set the plate in front of Edward. The pie filling was a slimy bright red. Edward picked up a fork. He planned to cut it up and push the pieces around on his plate. However, Ms. Swan was keeping a close eye on him. If he didn't eat, she would be offended. And if she was offended, he would never get to taste her earthly delights later on that night.
He shoved in a bite of the pie, chewed, and swallowed.
It was as disgusting as he had known it would be.
Ms. Swan waited until more than half of the pie had disappeared into his mouth before speaking again. "How long have you been a private detective?"
He pushed the plate away and set down the fork, relieved for the break. "Around three years in Chicago. A few more elsewhere. I enjoy the challenge."
"And you get enough jobs to keep yourself in business?"
"Plenty."
"That's surprising."
"It shouldn't be. Chicago is a hotbed of intrigue. There's not a soul in this city who doesn't have a secret to hide." His gaze dropped. The outline of her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress was an appealing sight to behold. He flashed her a provocative smirk. "It's my job to... expose them."
His innuendo wasn't lost on her.
"I agree, Mr. Cullen. Everyone has at least one secret they would like to hide." She leaned into his personal space, voice lowering to a husky whisper. "Including you."
He abandoned his ogling. "Pardon?"
She twisted her mouth to the side in contemplation. "I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. It's time I come clean to you."
"Come clean? What an interesting phrase. Have you been a dirty girl? If so, you won't find me complaining."
"Mr. Cullen, would you please control your hormones for five minutes. There's something important we need to discuss."
Edward bowed his head. "I'm sorry for interrupting."
"Thank you." She inhaled, and using one breath of air, spilled the beans. "I hired you under false pretenses. My father was never missing. I knew exactly where he was the entire time."
Edward's lecherous smirk fell. "I don't understand."
She gave his hand a condescending pat. "I know. Let me explain. My father has been seeing Sue for several months behind my back. He has this ridiculous notion that I'll be upset if he moves on with his life. My mother has been dead and gone for more than two decades! I say it's about damn time he got himself a girlfriend." She smiled a little. "Father has no idea I know about his romantic life. He even has his buddies at the police station covering for him. Not that it did any good. Honestly, you would think the former chief and an entire police department could do a better job of keeping secrets from me. Father thinks he's so sly. Whenever I say I'm going out of town, he runs over to Sue's place to shack up for a few days. It would be cute if he wasn't being so ridiculous."
Edward furrowed his forehead. "If you already knew where your father was, why did you hire me to track him down?"
"I was testing you. You passed."
"What test did I pass?"
"I was looking for the best gumshoe in the city. You're it. Congratulations."
"Thanks. And you felt the need to find this out because..."
"I want to be a private investigator too."
"That's swell, but what does that have to do with me? Start your own private eye firm for all I care. I won't stand in your way."
She huffed. "I've already tried. No one wanted to hire a woman trying to do 'a man's job'! The only way anyone will take me seriously is if I team up with an already established P.I. and build a reputation from there. So, I scouted around to find the best private investigator, found you, and here we are."
He chuckled. "Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but I work alone."
"Not anymore. We're partnering up."
He scoffed. "The only partnering you and I are ever doing will take place behind closed curtains and between silk sheets."
"Wrong. You and I are going to be business partners and nothing more. Before this night is over, you'll be tickled pink to have me on board."
Edward shook his head. "Not gonna happen."
"Yes, it will. I have enough dirt on you to get you to change your mind."
"You speak of blackmail?" He clucked his tongue at her. "For shame. I didn't think you had it in you. To stoop so low! Unfortunately for you, I don't scare easily. What could you possibly have on me?"
"Have you forgotten? You, Mr. Cullen, are a vampire."
He kept his expression perfectly neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
She sighed. "Let's not play games. I doubt you'd want this information getting out. A vampire side hustling as a private detective? My, oh my. Who would risk interacting with such a fearsome creature? It would probably put you out of business."
Edward's hand slipped inside his suit jacket for a pack of cigarettes. He extracted one and lit the end with a match. He stared dispassionately at the woman sitting next to him. She stared back, unafraid and waiting for his response.
The cigarette dangled from his lips as he spoke around it. "What is this? Some sort of gag? Do you get your kicks accusing people of being monsters in disguise?"
"No, I can assure you that I don't accuse anyone of anything unless I have sufficient evidence."
He blew out a cloud of smoke. Pulling the cigarette from his mouth, he allowed it to rest between his fingers. "And you have 'evidence' that I'm the Dracula of Chicago?"
"I wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't."
She took out several photographs from her handbag. Edward snatched them from her grasp and bit his tongue at what he saw.
"This first one is my favorite," she said conversationally. "You climbed the outside of Sue's apartment building faster than a monkey. Four floors, isn't it? I think you were trying to get a good shot of Father kissing Sue on her living room sofa - but you failed to notice that someone was taking pictures of you as well. You should really try being more aware of your surroundings. You never know who might be watching."
Edward gritted his teeth. "Where did you get these?"
"I took them myself. And before you ask, no one except me has seen these pictures. I have a private darkroom for developing negatives."
He dropped the photo on the counter and shoved it away. "This proves nothing. Camera tricks - that's all this is."
"Then it's a good thing that I have more proof."
She shuffled through the rest of the collection while holding it up for him to inspect. There were photos of him entering butcher shops, and no matter the weather, always wearing a trenchcoat and a hat pulled down to shade his face.
Another showed him in the dead of night hopping over a fence that would have been impossible for a human man.
A third photo was of him walking across a laundry line strung up between two apartment buildings. It was a feat that would have earned him a spot on any circus high-wire act.
The final two photos were the most damning. One showed him leaping off the roof of a ten-story building. The last image was taken right as he landed like a cat on the sidewalk down below.
The photos of him performing seemingly impossible stunts were taken in secret, from behind trash cans, around the corners of buildings, and inside parked vehicles. But the photos of him doing errands were taken in broad daylight with no cover whatsoever.
He leveled a glare at her. "How long have you been tailing me?"
"For weeks."
"That's impossible. I would have noticed."
"You tend to ignore people who aren't attractive women. All I had to do was alter my appearance and you never once looked in my direction."
She rummaged through her handbag. She put on a pair of unflattering eyeglasses and rolled her hair into a tight bun at the back of her neck. In addition, she changed her entire demeanor. Her confidence faded, replaced with slumped shoulders and trembling hands that reminded Edward of a frightened rabbit.
"Like poor Miss Gladstone," she said in a quiet, shy tone. "You barely looked at her. She found it quite interesting that you never ate anything like a normal person would. You did do frequent business with several butcher shops, yet you only ever bought one thing." She dropped the timid act. The eyeglasses returned to her handbag. Her hair was smoothed back to its former glory. "Do you know what that one thing might be?"
Edward narrowed his eyes but didn't answer.
"Blood, Mr. Cullen. Every other week you buy all the fresh animal blood the butcher shops have on hand. You've got them thinking you need it for an old family blood sausage recipe. But that's a lie, isn't it? You don't even have access to a kitchen."
He wiggled the cigarette between his fingers. "Most apartments have kitchens," he mumbled.
"True, but you don't have an apartment. You live exclusively in that cozy little office on the sixth floor. I didn't see any kitchen when I was there."
He held up a single digit. "You've been to my office exactly one time and you never saw the adjoining room."
"Wrong again. I picked the lock and snuck in when you were out tracking down my father. There was no stove, ice box, or even a dish to serve dinner on. Besides not having a kitchen, I noticed you don't own a bed either. Do you sleep hanging from the ceiling? Like a bat?"
He loomed over her menacingly. "Listen, lady. You'd better stop with all this vampire nonsense right now, or I'm gonna..."
At his hesitation, she lifted an eyebrow. "Gonna what? Suck me dry? Snap my neck like a twig? Well, let me tell you something real quick. Don't waste your breath with pointless threats. I'm not afraid of you."
Edward took a deliberate puff of his cigarette, still scowling. "Oh yeah? How come?"
"I did my research. If your M.O. was like the average vampire in a horror novel, there would be stacks of bodies with fang marks down at the city morgue. There aren't any. Trust me, I've checked. So, when you factor in the animal blood, I took a wild leap and guessed you have some sort of objection against taking a human life."
"Interesting theory. What makes you believe I won't make an exception for killing you?"
She half shrugged. "You could kill me, I suppose. But I'm warning you now - that won't stop your secret from getting out. I have a friend who works at a well-known news organization and we have a little arrangement. If this person doesn't hear from me at least once every couple of weeks, they are to go to a certain place where I stashed copies of all the evidence I have on you. I'm sure the press would be thrilled to splash those pictures of you across every front page in the country. So, by killing me, you would only be exposing yourself. You'd have to say goodbye to your career, your cozy office home, and the entire city of Chicago. You'd be on the run for years."
She took a long sip of coffee. Edward barely breathed.
"I don't believe it will get that far," she continued. "You're not the murdering type. And from what I've learned from tailing you these past few weeks, you're also an intelligent, fair-minded individual. As long as you never harm a hair on my head - and agree to take me on as a partner in your detective firm - your secret will stay between the two of us. Right?"
Edward's gruff front collapsed. His head fell into his hands. He felt like a rat backed into a corner. How in the hell did this human woman figure him out so easily?
"This is insanity," he groaned.
Ms. Swan laid a hand on his shoulder. "Aww, don't get down in the dumps. Having me as a partner will help you more than you know. For instance, I can coach you on how to appear more like a normal human being. Even if I hadn't seen you climbing an apartment building like King Kong, I would have known there was something off about you. You're so... mechanical and stiff at times."
He lifted his head to look at her. "Really?"
"Yes. Look at the way you've been smoking. You don't savor the flavor. You just huff and puff through your mouth like a steam engine. Here, let me show you how it's done."
She plucked the cigarette from his fingers and popped it between her lips. She took in a long drag, held it in for a short while, and released it gradually in a haze of smoke through her mouth and nostrils. Her eyes were half-lidded, smoldering with vitality.
It was the sexiest thing Edward had ever seen.
"See? It's more natural this way," she said. "Most people smoke to relax. You make it seem like someone is holding a gun to your head."
"Do you, uh, smoke often?" He was willing to pay good money just to watch her enjoy a cigarette.
"Mrs. Waite, my old boarding school matron, taught her girls that smoking is a vulgar habit. That lesson was one of the few which stuck with me. So, I smoke only when the occasion calls for it - like this one." She slipped the cigarette back into his mouth. "Try again."
Edward inhaled like she had demonstrated and exhaled slowly. The nicotine did nothing for him. He used smoking merely as a way to blend in among the humans. Yet, for the first time in his long, immortal life, he felt something stir inside of his chest. Was it the warm cigarette smoke coating his lungs, or was it the fact that his mouth was right on top of Ms. Swan's lipstick mark?
She nodded in approval at his technique. "That's much better. You almost seem like a real man now."
"Pardon me? I only seem like a real man to you?"
"No offense, but you lay it on a little too thick with that playboy image. I suspect it's just a cover. In all the weeks I've been following you, I never once saw you in any compromising positions. No dates. No secret rendezvous. Not even a kiss on the cheek. My sixty-four year old father has had more action in the bedroom in that timeframe. Do vampires have a natural aversion to sex, or is it just you?"
"I do not have an aversion to sex!"
"It's fine if you do. In fact, I would welcome it. It would be nice to work with a single man who isn't always thinking with his other head."
He slammed a fist on the counter. "Goddamn it. You didn't see me with any women because I haven't met any lately I liked. If you insist, I will gladly prove my 'manliness' to you this very instant. My place or yours?"
"Neither. So, what kind of women do you prefer? The vampire type or human?"
He fidgeted on the stool. Her questions were getting more and more direct. He had a feeling she was making him uncomfortable on purpose.
"I prefer humans. Vampires have long memories and often unreasonable expectations. You'd inevitably run into each other again and it would get awkward fast. Humans aren't nearly as clingy and usually move on quickly after an affair ends."
"Ah. You're the love 'em and leave 'em type."
"I suppose you could say that." He ran a finger along her bare arm. "But maybe I could turn over a new leaf. Do you think you could keep me on the straight and narrow?"
She huffed a laugh. "How would I accomplish that feat?"
"By keeping me shackled to your bed."
"Funny. I didn't know vampires were comedians."
"I'm not joking."
"We're supposed to keep this professional, remember?"
"No, I don't remember that. As I recall, I never agreed to let you be my partner."
She shoved his wandering finger off her arm. "Have I not proven my worth? Think of all I bring to the table. What's there for you to lose?"
"My dignity."
"Now you're just being dramatic. It won't kill you to have some help. I uncovered your secret," she snapped her fingers, "just like that. I can do the same with any of the cases your firm gets. Furthermore, having me as your partner will make it easier on you in the long run."
"How so?"
"You intimidate people. If they're not some beautiful bimbo whose skirt you want to get under, you often get moody and confrontational. I, on the other hand, am patient and kind no matter who we're dealing with. I would be an asset when it's time to interview people."
"Fair point, yet somehow I've managed to always crack every case all by myself."
"But your cases could be resolved faster if you had me to help. Let's stage a test. Go ask the cook to make you eggs Benedict."
Edward wrinkled his nose. "Why?"
"Just do it."
He sighed and flagged down the diner employee. "Can I get a plate of eggs Benedict?"
The boy's voice turned ice cold. "Read the menu, pal. We don't serve that here."
"Not even if I pay extra?"
"Nope. Too complicated."
Edward gave the boy a harsh glare. "If an egg dish is too complicated for you to make, maybe you're in the wrong business."
Ms. Swan slapped Edward in the chest while simultaneously flashing a smile at the boy. "Excuse my friend's rudeness. He's still awfully hungry and it's making him extra cranky."
The boy smiled back, his cheeks turning faint pink. "Happens to the best of us, ma'am."
She cupped her hand around her mouth and leaned over the counter, speaking to the boy as though Edward couldn't hear every single word. "My friend is a picky eater. As you can see, he barely touched the pie you served him. Eggs Benedict is one of the only dishes he won't turn his nose up at. Ordinarily that wouldn't be a problem for me, but tonight he and I have to work together on a tough project. If he doesn't get something in his stomach soon, he won't be able to concentrate on the project - then we both might get fired." Her eyes turned pleading. "Would you be a dear and make the eggs Benedict for him?"
The boy glanced at Edward - who was on the brink of pouting at how he was being portrayed. She was making him sound like a child!
"All right," said the boy. "I'll make it for your friend, but it's just for tonight. Next time he'll have to make do with somethin' off the menu."
"That's so nice of you..." She squinted at the nametag. "Mickey. I won't forget it."
The boy grinned like a lovesick fool and wandered off to cook the fancy dish. Ms. Swan turned triumphantly to Edward.
"See what I did? Mickey agreed to do something for me but not for you."
Edward frowned. "First of all, despite what the atrocious handwriting on the nametag led you to believe, that boy's actual name is Mikey - not Mickey. Secondly, he only agreed to make the dish because you used your charms on him."
"Why should that matter? You do the same thing! I heard you flirting information out of those helpless females at Sue's apartment building. If you can use your 'charms', I should be able to use mine too."
"That was different. Those women knew I wasn't being serious. Mikey, however, interpreted your smiles as meaning something more. He skipped all the bases inside his head and slid straight into fourth, with the dream version of you pinned underneath him."
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Mikey's fantasies can't get any worse than the risque stuff you've been saying to me all evening."
Edward raised his hands. "Hey, you wanna go on a date with the guy? Be my guest. But don't be surprised when he chains you to the wall in his basement."
"Fiddlesticks. You couldn't possibly know what's going on inside his head."
"Actually, I do know. I can hear nearly every person's thoughts inside this diner." He began pointing at each customer. "Sex. Money. Dead husband. Money." His finger landed on Mikey last. "Sex in the basement with his new sex slave. Still doubt me, doll face?"
She crossed her arms. "You're telling me you're a mind reader?"
"That's the plebian term for it, yes."
She released a sigh. "Unbelievable."
"You believe I'm a vampire. Why not a mind reader too?"
"Because it's too farfetched. If you're a mind reader, then I'm Shirley Temple."
Edward looked down and licked his lips. "Mmm. You got nice legs, Shirley."
"Mr. Cullen! That is highly inappropriate. The girl isn't even twelve yet."
Edward sputtered several times before managing to speak coherently. "I was talking about you! I would never-"
"Let's just get back to the main issue. I'll play along and pretend you're a mind reader. Tell me what I'm thinking right now."
Edward adjusted his necktie, still feeling off balance. "I can't. You're blocking me."
"Ha. What a creative excuse."
"It's true." He grunted at the disbelief written on her face. "That does it. Flag down Mikey right now and ask him to think of a number." She made no move, only staring at him. "Go on and do it, Ms. Skeptical. Afraid I'll prove you wrong?"
Her eyes squinted with annoyance. One of her hands flew up in the air. "Hello! Mikey!"
"The eggs aren't finished yet, ma'am."
"We need you for something else. It should only take a moment of your time." Mikey left his post and moved closer to hear her. "My friend and I are doing a study of the human mind and need your assistance. Think of a number between one and a hundred but don't say it out loud."
Mikey's tongue poked out a little as he thought. Edward leaned into Ms. Swan's ear. "Eleven point forty-six," he whispered.
Her eyebrows knitted together at the odd number.
"Ok, I've thought of a number," Mikey said.
She and Edward shared a glance before she gave a reply. "Go ahead and say what it is."
"Eleven point forty-six."
Ms. Swan was too stunned to respond. Mikey's eagerness to please quickly faded to worry.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Was I not supposed to use a number with decimals?"
She blinked as though awakening from a dream. "It's fine. You did real good, Mikey."
He trotted off, happy as a golden retriever. Edward smirked at Ms. Swan. "Mikey's weekly wage is eleven dollars and forty-six cents, by the way. It was the first number that popped into his head. Believe me now, sweetheart?"
"I suppose I don't have much of a choice. How come you hear everyone else's thoughts but not mine?"
"Beats me."
She gave him another long, appraising look. "Is there something wrong with you?"
He stubbed the remainder of his cigarette in the nearest ashtray and tried hard not to laugh. "You don't pull any punches, do you?"
"In this world, you can't. Sometimes you have to ask the tough questions instead of beating around the bush. It's the only way you'll get the answers you've been searching for."
Edward hummed. "Wise words from someone so young. You just might be the smartest broad I've ever met."
"Does that mean you've accepted me as your partner?"
He chose not to answer right away. He dragged out the moment longer than necessary. That hopeful gleam in her eyes was distracting.
"The office opens at eight in the morning. Don't be late."
"I'll be there bright and early. You won't regret this, Mr. Cullen."
"Let's cut the formality. Call me Edward." He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Seeing as how we're partners now, may I call you Isabella?"
"If you like."
Mikey walked up with the eggs Benedict and placed it in front of Edward. "Here ya go, sir."
Isabella grabbed a fork - and without asking permission - took a bite from Edward's plate. "Oh! This is delicious, Mikey. Here's a special thank you for going through the trouble of making this."
She dug into her purse and flipped a coin in the air. Mikey caught it and beamed.
"A half dollar tip! Gee. Thanks!"
Mikey left to deal with another customer. Isabella, after taking one last sip of her coffee (and another bite of Edward's food), deposited enough cash on the counter to cover her portion of the meal.
"Well, Edward," she said while shrugging on her coat, "I better run home and get some beauty rest. Tomorrow morning will be here before I know it."
"Answer one thing for me before you leave."
She paused buttoning up her coat to look at him. "I'll try."
"If you already knew I was a you-know-what, why did you insist I eat that rhubarb pie?"
"There were two reasons. One, I was curious to see how far you would go to hide that you're not human. And two," she broke into a smile that radiated pure delight, "I wanted to see what faces you'd make while trying to eat that pathetic excuse for a dessert. It looked like it was about four days past stale. I'm human and even I wouldn't've touched that pie." She grabbed her handbag and stood up. "Have a pleasant evening, Edward."
He watched as Isabella strode out of the diner and into the dark of the night. A grin worked its way up one side of his face, then the other.
Maybe having Isabella Swan as a partner wouldn't be so bad after all.
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A/N-
This story is my fun side project, so it will update sporadically. As you probably have guessed, it won't be strictly Twilight canon. There will be (eventually) explanations as to how Edward ended up as a flirty womanizing vampire and why this Bella isn't the shy, unconfident girl we know from the books.
Each chapter of this story will be a "case" that Edward and Isabella will have to solve. Some cases will be the conventional detective fodder we know and love, while others will have supernatural aspects to them (like vampires needing help from a private investigator, because why not? Lol). Familiar characters will appear too, but they may be slightly different from what you're used to.
The next chapter is in the works. Thanks for reading. :-)