The Deceased

Chapter Fourteen - Bait

"I'm okay, dad," I reassure him. Jane makes a sharp turn and suddenly the side of my head is almost glued to the phone.

"Are you being cautious? Remember what i told you about these situations."

Jane almost has a smile on her face; the first time i've seen anything but grief and anger. I push myself away from the door and throw her a look. "Yes father, i'm being cautious. I have to go."

"I'll call you tomorrow, missy," he says before i hang up.

"You right?" I turn to Jane in annoyance.

She shrugs, stopping harshly at the lights, slamming me back hard in my seat. "You took this risk when you decided to get into the car with me."

"That's alright. I mean, if you crash at least you're going fast enough so i'll die on impact."

"Way ahead of you," a long nail unpolished nail reaches up to tap her nose, like that was her plan the whole time. Jane takes her foot off the clutch and drops it onto the accelerator. How did she even get her license? If she drove like this during her test she would have failed straight away. No wonder it took her five tries to pass.

"Are you going to tell me where we are going yet?"

I face Jane's side-look and smile as she sighs. "More investigating. Remember when i told you about Travis? Well, we are going to pay him a visit."

I nod because i have been looking forward to having something exciting to do. After my talk with Detective Breece, i realised how desperate i really was for answers, and with no other leads, seeing Travis and the rest of Sarah's 'buddies' is the only way it seems to get even a tad bit of answers.

"So, uhm, i have work today but i called in sick, so i can't go in. You'll have to investigate on your own."

I expected her to do something like this, which is why it didn't exactly come as a shock. She never likes to get her hands dirty, even to do with something this important. It doesn't really bother me, though i do wish i don't have to do all this investigating on my own. Especially in a place Jane clearly knows better than i do. "Alright, i'll take care of it."

"Are you sure?" she asks, "i've been working there for a few years now, and i still can't get more than a sentence out of him."

With a scoff, i grab hold of the door for support around the corner. "Do you know who i am?"

Jane gives me the hint of a smile and makes one last sharp turn before stopping dead in a car park. If i hadn't have held on i would have slammed face first into the dashboard.

"Alright," I struggle to get out of the tight seatbelt. "No more am i getting into this car."

Knowingly, Jane blinks and rests her head back in her seat before leaning over to me and gesturing to the glass door. "My bosses name is Deborah. She's still abit sad about Sarah, so be sensitive."

"I'm always sensitive."

"No you're not. You've never been sensitive a day in your life."

That hurt a little, because i know i have been sensitive when Jane has needed cheering up. I shrug it away, focusing on my mission, and grab my cross-body bag before stepping onto the curb.

A sweet bell is sounded when i step inside the shop. Immediately i'm hit with bright lights, the colour white, and the scent of cedar wood. About four people walk slowly around the small shop to take a look at the paintings hanging from hooks on the walls. Down the back, i eye the white door with a hanging sign that says in bold letters 'Storage.'