Mystery and Crime Fiction posted November 14, 2017

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A girl walks into my office.

It was a rainy day...

by Jm4805

The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
It was raining that day, wasn't it? I sat in my office watching a few drops falling from the ceiling. The light filtering through the swirling breeze from the fan, the rhythmic hum of each passing flick seemed to echo against the sound of the downpour. I lifted my hat up when I heard the sound of an almost long forgotten friend; the bell that says a customer is here.

And boy did she come in. She was the kind of girl that made you question who you were and how you looked at that moment. Dark hair, dark eyes, lips like rubies, and curves that went on for days. She was wearing a coat over a dress, and a fedora that covered one of her eyes. The way she sauntered over I almost fell out of my chair. I guess I was leaning a little far in for my own good.

"Are you Mr. Morrison?" She didn't sound sure. No, not that I could blame her, a lot was attached that name. This dump could hardly look like a fraction of that name, let alone anything to do with a legacy. That's what happens to legacies, time passes and legacies fade. That Morrison has been dead for a while, six feet under last I checked.

"I am." I took a sip of what was left of my glass of scotch. It must have been ten a.m., especially by the look of disgust on her face when I drank the last swallow; but that doesn't matter, not like it's a social call. When a girl that looks like that comes through the door, troubles never far behind. "Looking for someone?" I gesture towards the chair opposite where I sat. She obliged, those big eyes still staring daggers or possibly holes through me.

"Something, actually." I noticed her hands, silk black gloves, expensive, no rings, she had earrings, not diamonds but pretty damn close. The make-up was deliberate, she took her time getting ready. Better expect the worst. "I want to leave."

Good thing I swallowed the scotch, my hand hit the table out of surprise. The glass tipped over, she picked it up and fixed it. I recomposed myself, coughing like a fool. "You mean the city?"

"Yes." She said it so innocently, it was hard to take it seriously.

"Get in line. The whole city wants out."
But you can get me out." It wasn't a question or a demand, just a simple statement.

"You're insane! Do you want to die?" I fix my tie and pull out my pack of cigarettes hanging in my front pocket. I gesture one towards her. "Want one?"

"No, I don't smoke." I shrug, place one in my mouth and light it. One deep inhale and I relax, she waves her hand and coughs.

"How much?"

"What?" She recovers.

"You want to leave. Well I want to live. What's worth suicide?" I take another puff, leaning back into my chair. She still looks on edge.

"I don't have much."

"Those gloves, and those earrings say otherwise."

"They're not mine."

"Okay, so boyfriend troubles?"

"Yes." She looked away, she was lying, but I'm not a therapist. I don't care why she's lying, all I care about is why is she wasting my time. "I can give you them!"

"Don't be too eager to give away what little you have. That's free advice." I put out the cigarette and looked her straight in the eyes. "Tell me, you seem confidant in getting my help for a suicide run. Why is that?" I tip my hat up, give her the full effect of my scrutiny.
She pulled a note from her purse, it was stained, but the handwriting was familiar, a little too familiar.

'Rick, you owe me one. Give her whatever she wants, and we're even.'
- Russel

"That son of a bitch." I groaned, then turned to the waste basket, crumpling up the paper and throwing it into the trash bin.

"But-" She went to interject, but I raised my hand.

"I'll do it, don't worry. I just need to meet a few guys. Where are you staying until we can start heading out?" She looked back silently, with that one giant visible, pleading brown eye. "Oh Goddammit! I'm going to kill Russel." I looked back at her, it's not her fault, no sense taking it out on her. "Come on, I'll lock up, and take you back to my place. I'll hole you up until we can find a way out."

"Thank you." She went to shake my hand.

"Don't. Nothing personal but this is a job and repaying a debt, nothing more." I threw my coat on, and turned the light off on my way out.

"Aren't you going to lock up?"

"I already did, just drank the last thing of any value." She followed until we stood outside. I could tell she was skeptical, but that wasn't my problem, she walked through my door.

This city it had a name once, now it's just a city of rain and tyranny. Everyday, it rains, floods were common before the sewer system and flood gates were built. The half-lit city, bustling with traffic, cars and crowds. Sullen faces, day to day going about their miserable lives. We all knew the day it started, the day the city was drenched in flames and blood. Five years ago when there was an uprising to overthrow the stranglehold the criminal family that passed itself off as a government had on this town.

What came after...

Was much, much worse.

The rain was just an added bonus.

We took my car, she didn't want to get in, afraid I'll crash or some nonsense. I told her I'm not walking, and eventually she agreed. My car like my office was no beauty, I could say the same for this neighborhood.

The traffic was always nasty this time of day, but I managed to break some traffic laws and get to my place fast enough. When I parked, I could see the girl digging her nails into my arm rest and the door. Taking out a cigarette I watched her slowly climb out, fixing her hat and her hair.
"Up here." I nodded to the apartment complex, again, nothing pretty, more like functional.

"Are you insane, or just reckless?"

I inhaled and exhaled smoke. "You can tell me, if we get out of this alright."
We reached my door, another rolling blackout, so that meant climbing eighteen sets of stairs. For those heels she was wearing, she kept pace. There's more to her than meets the eye. That makes my job a little more fun, I might just have to find out who this dame was after all.

"Come in." I gestured, after my keys wouldn't work, I just pulled and pushed it open. "Been meaning to fix that."

Her eyes grew wide, maybe it was the stench of booze and tobacco, or the unpaid bills lying everywhere. Either way I stepped over some empty bottles, cleared off a spot on the couch and sat down. "Shut the door on your way in."

She just watched me and staggered for a moment. Walking in she tripped on an empty bottle.
"Careful on your way in." She saw my dart board, opposite my couch. Pink eviction notices used as target practice.

"You're really Rick Morrison?"

"Got that name from Saint Helena."

"Saint Helena?"

"An orphanage on the outskirts of town. Well, it was an orphanage once, now it's just a pile of rubble."

"How do you know Russel?"

"Since I was thirteen."

"Do you know Tony?"

The dart I was holding, broke with a reaction. DIdn't even realize I did until she almost fell back.
"I knew Tony. Do me a favor? Don't mention that name to me. Brings back some memories I've been trying to forget."

"I'm- I'm sorry. It's just the stories of you.-"

I interrupted her. "Stories are stories. You haven't given me an easy job, you know?"

She apologized as I got up, if she wanted a job done, it's best to act entitled. When she apologizes all I think is that I made a big mistake. "Stop apologizing." I walked over to my windows and lifted one up. Some cold and fresh air came in. I have some work ahead of me, might need some insurance.

The hidden drawer in my side table held my revolver. A long-barreled Colt .33 with a silver chamber. The handle was painted with a white and black spiral. I opened the wheel and inserted seven bullets, spinning it and clicking. She looked aghast.

"Something wrong?"

"Why do you need a gun?"


"Where are you going?" She asked, now occupying my seat. She looked so frightened.

"I need to go out for a bit, got to talk to some acquaintances of mine, stay put I'll be back soon." I went for the door. I turned back and saw her worried face. Those doe eyes did a number on me, but not enough to keep me around and comfort her. A job is a job after all.

"Make yourself comfortable."

With that I shut the door and didn't look back. After all if she's gone, I can forget about this stupid job.

Book It! contest entry

Hope you like this, it's the beginning prologue for my new Novel, Rain Awash Sin: The Dark Boulevard.
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