Crimes Of The Heart

Soooo, i've only just become a member of wattpad but i've been reading loads of stories and they have inspired me to TRY and write my own.

Here is the first bit that i've written and i would love  for you guys to read it and tell me what you think. If i get a positive response i might continue it but i just want to see what people think of it.

PLZZZ READ AND VOMMENT!! (i love that word) I hope you like it :) xx

 2 WEEKS EARLIER:

Jasmine Howard wandered restlessly around top floor of the large three floor house. It wasn’t her house though. It belonged to her uncle, Neville Hodge who was the very successful owner of the ‘Corporate Detective Company’. But they weren’t a typical detective agency, they were the real thing. All the undercover dirty work that the police didn’t want to do was passed over to them.

Now, Mr Hodge had only been the owner of the company for a short amount of time. Around 4 months. Before it had been Jasmine’s dad who was in charge, at least until he had died. A long with Jasmine’s mother he had died during a job on some unimportant case that had been given to them because the police couldn’t figure out. At least that’s what she had been told. Jasmine knew very little about her parents’ death. The only things she had been told was that they went out to meet up with a suspect, undercover of course, but never came back.  Their bodies had never been found so there had been no funeral. Just the huge crushing feeling of loss that always had been present in her heart since the day her uncle had turned up at her flat and told her the news.

 Even now, 4 months later, there was still an infinitesimal part of her that still hoped that they would just turn up one morning, as if they had never been gone. Her mum would be in the kitchen making tea and her dad would be lounging on the sofa of her tiny little flat reading the newspaper, like they used to do. But she was now resigned to the fact that she had to accept the truth. They were never coming back.

So that it why she was now at her uncles house. He didn’t like her being alone in her little flat so at least once a week she came down to London to talk to him and catch up. Talk was mainly about her work. See, even before her parents had died she had been working at the ‘CDC’ as an undercover agent. And now they were gone it made Jasmine even more determined to completely throe herself into her work and take on as many cases as possible. She had completed her last case the week before and had been waiting another week for another incident to turn up. But none had. So, eager to keep herself busy, she had taken the initiative to come up and ask her uncle if he had another job for.

However currently her uncle was sitting at his desk in his office, with his short, stumpy feet propped up on the desktop and was talking hastily to some business colleague on the phone. Which had left Jasmine the task of finding something for herself. She sincerely doubted he had anything there but she didn’t want to disturb him.

Suddenly, for no particular reason, she was drawn to the open door of her uncle’s bedroom. The door was left ajar and she could see a large filing cabinet in the corner. She had never been in her uncle’s bedroom before but she was curious to what was in the cabinet.

'Maybe there is some information in there,' she thought to herself.

So, quietly Jasmine pushed open the door further and went in. It was a typical, tidy bedroom. The bed was made and there was some aftershave on the dresser but there was nothing suspicious or out of place. She wandered over to the cabinet and pulled open the first drawer. In it were lots of loose piece of paper, a couple of batteries, some thin books and then right at the bottom was a folder. She picked it up and looked at the cover, it said:  Serena and Paul: Roxy Nightclub Drugs Case.  Jasmine couldn’t believe what she was seeing, she opened it up and out fell about 5 pieces of paper with lots of writing on them, as well as some photos of what must have been the night club. She flipped eagerly to the back of the folder; it was dated to have started 2 months before her parents’ death. There was no completion date.

This was it. This was the case they had been working on when they had died. And according to this folder it was still unsolved. There were butterflies in Jasmine’s stomach, she now had a mission. She would solve this case, not for the company; not for herself but for her parents. She turned on her heel and walked swiftly to her uncle’s office and walked straight in without bothering to knock.

Neville looked up in surprise when she came barging in. He indicated instantly that he was on the phone but he could tell already that she wasn’t going to go away any time soon. So instead he put the man on the phone on hold and looked exasperatingly up at her, waiting.

“How do you have this?” she said throwing the folder onto the desk.

He picked it up and saw at once what it was. He had no idea how she had gotten hold of this, he had sworn her had put it in his bedroom cabinet underneath everything else where no one should be able to see it. Mr Hodge looked up at Jasmine and then back down at the file, his blue eyes wide with shock and a little bit of worry.

“How did you get this?” he asked, quite calmly, ignoring her question.

“I found it on the bookshelf in the spare room…” she replied, the lie came naturally to her lips.

Mr Hodge’s eyebrows furrowed. He could have sworn it had been in his cabinet.

“And I was wondering if I could take on the case?” she continued quickly

His head shot up from the file, alarm quite clear on his face. However he quickly masked it, but she still noticed.

“No,” he forcefully.

Jasmine waited, staring into his ice blue eyes.

“Why?” she complained. “Why not? I have no case on at the moment and I really want to try and solve this one. No one else is going to want to do it and I know it’s a bit of a while ago but I’m sure I could track down the sources they used. Please let me do this.”

She thought she could see him start to consider it so she ploughed on:

“And it may also help me find some clues on what happened to my parents.”

As soon as she had said this, however, she regretted it as a steely look came into her uncle’s eyes.

“NO!” he said again more forcefully this time, “You do not need to be trying to dig up clues about their deaths. I‘ve already told you everything you need to know and there is nothing more to find out. You need to accept: they are dead! Putting yourself through the stress of working on the same case as they did will not help you move on.”

“But…”

“No,” he said for the third time, “That’s final; I will hear no more of it. Now go put this folder back where you found it.”

“Fine!” she said angrily and began to stalk off.

“Jasmine,” he called after her.

“Yes, uncle?” she said her annoyance clear in her tone.

“You understand what I said? You are not to follow up on this case, do you hear me?”

His words sparked a plan in her brain, but she tried not to let it show on her face.

“Of course uncle, I will find something else to do.”

And with that she walked briskly out of his office and towards the front door.

'Well,' Jasmine thought as she made her way down the stairs, 'I don’t care what he says. He can’t stop me and I have the right to try and complete this case if I want to. He should understand why I want to; I mean it may even help me find out some more information about my parents. I wonder why he was so abrupt when I asked him. He looked almost…worried when he saw the file. He probably just didn’t want me to get my hopes up. But still…'

Jasmine left the house and walked down the cracked stone path while carefully tucking the folder under her leather jacket. She got into her black Porsche 911 and, for what must have been the first time in weeks. Smiled.