Mistaken Contract (Sebastian Michaelis)

the conjuring (1)

Christine Tinsley=C.C. Tinsley (nonbinary)

Gender pronouns: commonly they/them

honorifics-Mx.

"Mrs. Jameson," C.C. Tinsley responds to the old grandma." Scott and Alan are probably using a Ouija board and nothing more. I highly doubt they are Satan Worshippers. There are currently no groups listed."

Mrs. Jameson is anyone's sweet grandma with a talent for baking. Her family had been a pillar of the local community but due to the family being of the unlucky sort. Most of the remaining family moved or was found dead in strange ways that authorities can't explain. The eighty-year-old matron is the only family still residing with two grandsons named Scott and Alan Sampson.

"Christine, will you just do this as a favor to me?" Mrs. Jameson asks as her hands shake. "I just want to be able to rest at night knowing that the boys are staying out of trouble. If they got put in jail it is better than dead in a ditch somewhere on Round Top."

Christine shifts in the office desk chair. "When did the boys last talk to you?"

"It's been almost a week which even for young men is unusual for my grandsons..." Grandma Jameson sighs. "They call or swing by the cabin to check on me with groceries."

"Do Scott and Alan still live in Harrisville?" the young detective taps a pen on their propped-up leg.

Mrs. Jameson pauses with her eyes looking down," They moved about six months ago, quite near the old Arnold place..."

"Mrs. Jameson I will take the case for you," Christy stands up and then proceeds to readjust the charcoal black suit jacket. Their hand likewise motions towards the old glass and wood office door. "I will start on this today."

Mrs. Jameson pauses with her finger pointing to the air, "Oh! I almost forgot Christine! The address is 1677 Round Top Road in Harrisville...old Arnold place."

Christy aka C.C. Grins, "That makes it much easier...wait. I thought they lived near. Are they visiting the Arnold place?"

"But Mx. Tinsley, do you not know anything about that address?" The grandmother has worry written all over her face.

Christy runs their fingers through the long front locks as their back portion is shaved short. Finally, their fingers straightened the charcoal-colored tie with a slender line of sky blue runs across it. "I am not aware of anything strange about that address in Harrisville..."

"Oh! You would know it as the Conjuring House in this day and age..." Mrs. Jameson reminds the Private Detective.

Christy sighs, "That's where I recognize the address. So that is why you are concerned that Satan worship is going on. Once again, I doubt it, but Lieutenant Carlo is a friend of mine. I will contact him before I drive to the infamous location."

"Be safe Christine, I told your mother I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you and I aim to keep this promise," her wrinkled finger raises up once more. "If you even suspect danger, then you get out."

C.C. laughs softly," I will Grandma Jameson. Promise me you will make your best cookies."

Now Grandma Jameson laughs, "Of course! I always have time to make cookies for you and the boys."

C.C. leads the grandmother to the door "Are you going to visit your mother's grave Christy?"

The young detective pauses from the question. "I haven't visited my mom's grave since she died...maybe if I have time."

"You still have questions I know and sometimes the dead can still pass messages on to the living."

C.C. waves goodbye then heads back into the office. They grab a black trench coat from the back of the desk chair and proceed to lock the door to their office. The black doc Martens Christine wears, scuff along on the sidewalk going to the 1958 black Plymouth Fury. The young woman's father was a career Navy officer, so as a joke for his child Christine, was the year and type of car, from the book Christine.