Ivy has been groomed to be the first female Don of the Greyson mafia since she was little. Her whole life revolves around preparing herself for the role. From all the combat training she had endured, to pursuing business in college. It was all in an...
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Ivy
I had gotten a call from Mike, asking if I'd like to meet to catch up. The last time I saw him was on that fateful day. And considering I haven't been flying any airplane since, I haven't had the occasion to see him. Being in a plane crash had put me off flying, a little bit. I haven't even looked into purchasing a new plane to replace Tweety.
We agreed to meet at four in a little charming plant cafe near Lake Mead Boulevard called The Foliage. It's a basic coffee shop that also sells plants. I've been meaning to check out the place since I thought the idea was interesting.
I got there, and after looking around, realized that he hadn't arrived yet. Deciding to order first, I ordered an Americano for Mike and a Toffee Nut Frappe for myself. I never drink coffee after lunch unless I'm pulling an all nighter since it always makes it harder for me to sleep at night, but Mike is a coffee addict. He guzzled the stuff like drinking plain water.
I also ordered a tuna salad since I had missed lunch and didn't want to spoil my dinner. Luke is supposed to come back from New York today and he had hinted, that he was going to bring back dinner, supposedly something that you can't find anywhere else unless you visit the big apple.
I took a seat by the window and started to nibble on my salad while checking my emails. It was a few minutes later when someone bumped into me, forcing me to look up. I saw Mike but he didn't sit down, instead, he kept walking before sitting at one of the tables closer to the back that was a little bit secluded. He gestured for me to join him. Not wanting to argue about something trivial like seating arrangement, I picked up our coffees and my salad and walked to the back.
"Hey, Mike." I greeted him once I got near the table.
He motioned me to sit down and I realized he looked a bit agitated.
"Is something wrong?" I asked in my normal voice.
"Shh. Not so loud." He shushed me. His eyes wandered wildly looking to see if anyone had heard us.
"What's going on?" I whispered. Feeling a bit weirded out by his behavior.
"I think someone is trying to kill me. I think I'm being followed but I can't tell for sure."
"What do you mean, someone is trying to kill you?"
"It's Tweety. Someone faked the autopsy report. That's why they want me dead." He said with clear fear in his eyes.
I've seen Tweety's autopsy and it has ruled out foul play. If what Mike claims is true, that means someone actually tried to kill me.
"Can you start from the beginning, Mike? Why do you think the report was forged?"
"Larry and I were the first ones on the scene. We found Tweety. And when we found her, I noticed that the tail had been blown off. But the autopsy claimed that Tweety had engine failure. I checked her myself that morning, there was nothing wrong with the engine. Also, the plane's engine is at the front, not the tail. If the engine caught fire, the nose would have been black or blasted off."
