~ Chapter Nine: Is It Just Rumors? ~

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"When I saw that balloon go up on TV, I knew it was one of mine, and I said to myself, "Jimmy boy, you better call the cops right away, or they'll try and pin this on you." The balloon owner said as Jim and Harvey stood on the other side of the metal table. "So it was you who called us? And here I thought my partner had gone to the trouble of tracking you down," Jim replied. "How exactly was one of your balloons used to kill Ronald Danzer?" Harvey questioned the owner. "It was stolen by my bum of an ex-employee a month ago, Carl Smikers. That's what I get for hiring a kid," the little man mumbled the last sentence under his breath.


"Did Carl ever mention Danzer?" Jim inquired. "Hell, no. I'm surprised he even knew who Danzer was. We ain't talking about one of those intellectually superior types here," The owner shook his head as he took off his hat. "You've got an address?" Harvey asked. The owner nodded but warned the detectives when they found him, they had to get back the others. Not understanding what the owner was implying, Jim asked him to clarify what he meant by "the others." "The other balloons, a grand a pop those things are. He stole four,"


Jim and Harvey slowly looked up to each other, realizing with Danzer dead, there were three targets left. But with an overwhelming amount of people living in Gotham, anyone could become the next target of the Balloonman. As they were about to continue their investigation and hopefully pinpoint who exactly the Balloonman was intending to target, they were too late. As he had struck again.


~~~~~~~~


In the middle of the night, it all seemed quiet as Holly got out of bed for a glass of water. She quietly shuffled over to the fridge, hoping not to wake her parents. But as she stepped into the kitchen, she could see her father sitting on one of the barstools, his head buried in his hands as the lack of sleep was getting to him. "Dad?" Holly spoke softly, tapping his shoulder. Jim blinked a few times, the room only illuminated by the faint building lights outside the open windows and the glow of the fridge. He couldn't see his daughter that well, only just the faint outline of her. "Hey, you should be asleep," Jim told her. "I just came down for some water. But, judging that you're also up at 2 a.m., something's going on," Holly responded.


She's got a point. Jim reasoned with himself as he watched her grab her glass. "You know you can tell me what's going on, right? I can handle hearing lots of things," Holly leaned across the counter. "It's not that I think you can't handle it, Hols. You've got six years of your childhood left, I don't want you to have to hear about all these horrible things," Jim sighed. "Well, moving here was kind of a reality check for me. That life is not always rainbows and sunshine," She took a sip from her glass, feeling the cold liquid run down her throat.


Jim hesitated for a moment. Regardless of whether he told her or not, word was going to spread about the Balloonman the second he struck again. "Is this about that guy attaching weather balloons to people?" Holly questioned. Perhaps she already knows. "Yeah, it is. The victim, Ronald Danzer was a con man. Nobody cares about what happened. All they can do is celebrate and say he got what he deserved. But what happens when it's the next person? Someone higher up? It's not right. Everyone has to matter, or nobody matters," Jim spoke.


Holly nodded her head in agreement. "Dad, you're not in any danger, are you?" she asked. Jim could smell the fear even though his daughter did her best to hide it. He stood up from his stool and brought her into his arms. Holly felt a little more at ease, knowing at that moment he was okay, but the fear of that changing lingered. "You don't have to worry about me, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Remember what you used to call me when you were little?" Holly lifted her face from his chest, a tiny smile forming at the memory. "You're a tough old bird?" Holly remembered. "Exactly! You've got a good heart, Holly. And I hope you never have to deal with the daily scum like I do,"

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