This is a Warning

Part 4

The room is small and quite dark, with the blinds down over all the windows. The only light comes from a single light bulb overhead. A large wooden desk that looks as though it has been there for at least fifty years sits in the middle of the room facing the door I just came through. It is covered in scuff marks, nicks and dings all over. Even a bullet hole from when the old Chief of Police lost her temper and shot it. She got fired after that, needless to say.

There are two people inside the small office. A man I immediately recognize as Detective Austin Ashby, , now Head Detective, is sitting in a navy office chair, and a person I don't know but have seen before in a chair across from the desk. They are wearing a golden badge labeling them as the Head Detective's partner. I ignore their startled expression and turn my full attention to the man behind the desk.

"Can I help you, sir?" Ashby questions, setting aside a few papers and a grey folder. He watches me cautiously as I take a few steps closer to stand in front of him. Vague recognition reflects in his eyes as he surveys my appearance.

I slip the folded paper from my pocket and hold it up for them to see. "I need to speak with Head Detective Hadley."

I can't help but feel good at the look of obvious discomfort in Ashby's face as he realizes who I am. "Detective Hadley passed away a while ago," he says stiffly, straightening his back to disguise his uneasy shifting.

"I'm terribly sorry." I grit my teeth. "That must have been very hard for you. I'm sorry for bringing up a sensitive subject."

"No worries," Ashby said, leaning back in his chair. He clicks his pen. The sound seems so loud, being the only thing breaking the tense silence. Click. Click. Click. I clench my jaw even tighter and ball up my fists. I feel my headache from earlier begin beating my temples agin. Pounding fists slamming into the sides of my head, but I don't close my eyes or look away.

"Is there anything either Detective Ashby or I could help you with Mr...." Ashby and I turn towards the bushy haired detective next to me, who stands, hesitating.

"Logan Black."

"Mr. Black," he finishes, smiling with a tiny nod. "My name's Parker by the way. Parker Bailey." Their curly hair bounces when they move, strands falling into their face in front of their thick rimmed glasses. Bailey brushes them back, still smiling. Their smile falters, barely, when the hair simply falls back into their eyes. They decide to ignore it, leaving it where it sits.

"Actually, there is," I say. "I found this on my desk when I arrived at work this morning." I slide the paper across the desk to Ashby. He takes it, grimacing slightly at the sweat-dampened, messily folded, slightly crumpled piece of paper, and unfolds it slowly. He reads it over with an emotionless expression and hands it to Bailey.

"You know, Black, we take matters like this very seriously." Ashby swivels his chair back and forth. Back and forth. My word, if this man doesn't stop fidgeting for one minute I'm going to-Click. Oh my word! "There will be very severe consequences if this is a practical joke, you understand."

I raise my eyebrow. Does he honestly think I look like someone who would play a prank on anyone, let alone a detective? "Yes of course, Detective. I wouldn't expect anything less."