Sweeten My Coffee

Rotten clues

》ATTENTION《
THIS CHAPTER WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS THAT MAY BE DISTURBING TO SOME READERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

There are a few straightforward reasons to start smoking according to the veteran detective, Almond. Reason number one; It calms the nerves.

'Damn it!' An angry voice calls out.

Reason number two; It is the best distraction when life gets difficult.

'Another one...'

Reason number three; It is simply...vital in life. Essential for one's well being. Ignore the coughs, ignore the pain. If it makes one happy, why stop?

Wrinkled hands sort through small piles of reports, all regarding various cases in need of the experienced detective. He is sitting on the couch of his house, an increasingly familiar place ever since the coffee machine at his office broke. His grumbling voice can not be heard by anyone else other than himself. As alone as the last green leaf in winter holding on for dear life, he taps the ashes off of his cigarette on a small plate.

'When will those sisters learn? I am tired of all the bombing complaints.' He sighs and leans back.

All these petty crimes are never going to end. Is there anything big to look forward to anymore?

His left hand clenches the paper cup filled with coffee. Lately all the cases appear the same. Indeed, there is nothing wrong with a bit of repetition in life, but for workaholics such as Almond it becomes suffocating to know that he is not using his full potential as a detective. Is it because of his age? Have people been hiding the more intense cases from him in fear that his old body won't be able to handle them? That worry alone drives him to shamefully suck in more smoke. Thankfully, nobody can tell him to put the cigarette down and nobody can beg him to take care of himself in this empty home. Not anymore. The bright side has been more difficult to look at lately.

His focus is placed on the roller blinds across the room that shut out the sunlight. For a moment, the detective considers heading out for a break. As his will to stand up fades, a loud knock awakens it again.

Almost immediately, he is back on two feet, patting the wrinkles on his shirt with not much effort. By the time he gets there and opens the door, the one behind it had raised their hand to knock again. Having not realised the innocence of that gesture, Almond's hand had already slid towards his gun.

'Mornin' Almond!' A cervitaur with an unsure smile wags their tail excitedly. 'Hope I ain't botherin' ya. There's an emergency I think ya ought to look into.'

Almond's eyes soften and his hand relaxes back down. 'Good morning Fig. An emergency case? Where!?' He asks with concern. Such news are not to be taken lightly.

'I was prancin' on the beach an' then I heard Mango callin' after me. Nev'a seen a paler man in ma life. He was...' The happy wag they showed at the beginning goes limp as the memories are refreshed. '...he was cryin'. A lot. Said somethin' 'bout a b-body. Told 'em I would get 'elp.'

Almond pats their back, helping them ease off slightly. 'Thank you for reporting to me. I will head there immediately. I suggest you go to a bakery, get something for yourself and relax. You have done a good job.' He takes out a few coins and offers them to the brave citizen.

'O-Oh no need!' Their ears nervously droop. 'I'm grateful, really, but I ain't plannin' on buyin' anythin'. The berries in the for'st 're my one 'n only comfort food.' Fig laughs nervously and rubs their nape. 'I really hope Mango's alright. Keep me updated will ya?'

'You can come by my office if you need.' Almond's serious look becomes sharper as the cervitaur trots away.

A murder?