Service Elevator Sociopaths

Chapter 1

I looked out into the dark, seemingly tranquil alleyway, my gun poised just within reach inside my long, black trench coat. My knee-high black boots made virtually no noise as I crept along the buildings, practically hugging the brick walls. Everything was damp from the previous rain that had fallen earlier that night just before my chase began: including me. My long, light brown hair was plastered around the sides of my face, and my pale hands were shaking from the cold. I shoved my chin into my neck, savoring a little bit of the precious warmth the navy blue scarf that was wrapped around my neck provided.

Suddenly, I felt movement to my right. I glanced up just in time to see a shadowy figure pass beneath a street lamp and fade away into the night. I pulled the safety on my hand gun and advanced forward slowly on cat's feet, my blue eyes darting furiously, attempting to see everything at once. A gunshot suddenly sounded and I darted to the left, yanking out my own gun and firing in the direction of the attacker. I heard a man's yelp, then the sound of metal trash cans collapsing atop one another.

I had hit my target.

A light flickered on in the building above, and a bearded old man opened the front door of his home to see another man, dressed all in black, lying on his doorstep in a pool of blood. The pudgy man's eyes grew terrified as I stepped into the golden glow of the doorway, sliding the safety back on my gun and pulling out my ID badge.

"Savanna Jackon, New York Police Department." I said, flipping open the small badge and displaying it for the man to see. His face paled and he nodded profusely; I could tell he was already sweating through his threadbare robe. I sighed and kicked the other man in black slightly with my foot. "You wouldn't happen to have a telephone, would you?"

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After getting in touch with my lieutenant, I began my long walk back to the police station. Lieutenant James would have the criminal under control; he always did. Besides, he knew questioning those accused of persecuting the law was not my fortè. No, I just hunted them down, wounded them or majorly incapacitated them, and allowed James to deal with the sticky bits in court. Nobody ever gave me credit for the cases: it all went to James. Not that I really cared, I was only in this for the puzzles. I lived for puzzles, you see. I loved solving them. They were my life.

I chuckled. "Anthoni would hate this..." I started to say, but my mood instantly darkened.

Anthoni Louis. My arch nemesis. She had left me and gone back to London after we had solved a case last year; the very case in which involved the previous Chief of Police, Andrea Stein. Anthoni hated puzzles, hated them with every fiber in her being. That was one of the things that made us completely polar-opposite. One of many, that is...

I sighed as I pushed open the glass door of the police department. My secretary, Alecia Steuber, smiled sweetly at me as she stacked her last pile of yellow folders on her desk.

"Evening Chief," she said cheerfully in her American accent, waving slightly.

I nodded in recognition and wiggled a few fingers as a poor substitute for a wave.

"Finally caught him?" She asked brightly. I wished she would shut up.

"Yes." I mumbled in my thick British accent, walking down the halls and spreading mud everywhere I went. I smiled ruefully as I remembered the day Anthoni and I had found each other again... And the way we had made that criminal Andrea Stein's hair turn grey before her very eyes... Bloody priceless, I must say.

I shook my head as I unlocked the frosted glass and mahogany door to my office and pushed it open.

"Why on God's green earth am I thinking of Anthoni?" I thought as I collapsed in my black swivel chair at my desk, placing my head in my hand and rubbing my temple. Then it hit me.

"Today is the one-year anniversary of when I found her." I said, unaware that it had been aloud. My heart constricted in my chest as I thought about everything we had done as enemies. Now I had no idea where she had gone or what she was doing.

"Look at yourself!" I mentally scolded. "What would Sherlock say? You, Savanna Jackson, getting emotional over Anthoni Louis!"

I looked over at the crystal bowl of Skittles that Alecia always insisted upon leaving on my desk. I picked up one of the accursed yellow ones and flung it over to the paper shredder, where it was chopped ruthlessly until the blades were sticky.

I was snapped out of my reverie as my cell phone began to buzz. Who in their right mind would be calling at this rime of night? An unknown number flashed on the screen, and I pressed OK, brining the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Miss Jackson?" a deep, British accented male voice boomed from the other end of the line.

"Yes?" I asked, wracking my brain for any source of recognition.

"Your assistance is needed. Meet me at the London police department in two days."

The line went dead, and I resisted the urge to throw my phone into the wall.

"Bloody hell," I muttered, setting my phone down on the desk and rubbing my hands over my face tiredly. The voice had sounded creepily familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I sighed and stood, grabbing my emergency bag, which I always kept packed for situations such as this, from underneath my desk. I slipped my phone into the front pocket of my coat and adjusted the scarf still around my neck. I strode out of my office, stopping at my secretary's desk.

"I'm off on a case. I won't be back for some time. Lieutenant James is in charge while I'm gone." I instructed, hoisting my pack higher up on my back and walking briskly out the front door without another word. I stopped on the curb, hailing a random taxi from the steady stream of late night traffic. The yellow vehicle screeched to a halt next to the sidewalk and I slid in, flashing my ID in front of him.

"Airport and step on it." I ordered and the cabbie stepped on the gas, speeding off into the night.

"If I might ask miss, why are you in such a hurry?" The old man asked, looking at me through the rear view mirror.

I swallowed a scoff. Some people never observed the obvious. Here I was, the Chief of Police, asking to be driven to the airport as quickly as possible. Oh, you know, I was just heading out for some bloody elephant hunting.

"I'm on a case," I said slowly so he could comprehend. "The game is on."

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A/N

Here it is! The first chapter of the sequel to Yellow Skittle Sociopaths! YAY! I'm so excited to finally start this book... I think it's gonna be a good one!!!

Let me know what you think, and head over to @Animalsandadjectives for the next chapter!

~HalfABrandybuck