Call It What You Want

3. Iron Mask

"My name is Keira Thompson. I'm 17 years old, and I attend Windsor Heights Academy-" I explained to the police officer before me. I'm standing in front of a young man, no older than 25, sitting at the front desk of my local police station.

"Oh yes, nice to meet you, Keira. I've heard great things about you. I'm officer Brandt, but you can just call me Jack," the tall man said with a warm smile, extending a muscular arm to me. He's not the usual officer I cross paths with, so he must be new. I briefly shook his hand before getting back to business.

"I'll stick with officer Brandt, thank you," I said with a stoic expression.

"Okay... So, how long have you been a detective? You're very young, only 17-" Brandt asked while getting the information for the case on a computer.

I'm really not in the mood for small talk.

"A long time," I said plainly, cutting him off.

"Like a few months?" He suggested, glancing up at me.

"More like a number of years, since I was little," I continued, crossing my arms.

"Right, I have your file pulled up here. You've been solving homicide cases since you were ten?!" He exclaimed, going on a tangent.

"I would like to be assigned to a case now, I don't have all day," I said in a cold tone, making the officer straighten up.

"Yes ma'am," he said with his arms up defensively, then quickly wrote the information on a sticky note and handed it to me, "the location is Larkspur Lodge, this is the address, and you'll be investigating the death of three people. This is a serious one, we need all hands on deck."

"What's so serious about it?" I asked curiously, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, I'm not sure, someone told me it was. I'm new here," he replied with an embarrassed smile, leaning back in his desk chair. I knew I shouldn't have asked this airhead.

Not letting him get another word in, I walked away, sticky note in hand. I don't have time for antics.

"Keira, wait up!" I heard a familiar voice call out from behind as I approached the door. As if I need any more small talk-

"Are you going to Larkspur Lodge too?!" Sam frantically asked after running after me, catching his breath and panting.

"You need to work on your stamina," I spoke while looking the boy up and down, "and yes, I am."

"It's not my fault you walk so fast!" He exclaimed while straightening himself, "anyway, I heard that the murderer might still be lurking in the building. That puts us in danger of being attacked and stuff. You know the drill."

"Is that why we need everyone at this investigation? That officer Brandt over there was no help," I said with an eye roll, glancing back at him. He has his legs propped up on the desk and he's on his phone. I doubt he'll last more than a week here.

"Oh really? He was nice to me," Sam shrugged.

"I'm leaving now," I began, opening the door to the station and beginning to walk out.

"Hey, wait up! Let's stick together!" He said desperately, catching up and following me outside.

I very much prefer to work independently, but I guess keeping him company on the ride there shouldn't be much of an issue.

——

Sam and I hopped on a public transport bus and took our seats. It is 7am on a Saturday, so it's fairly empty. I took out a pair of earbuds and began to play some music to avoid any further conversation with Sam.
My plans to tune him out failed, however, because in no time he was already trying to socialize with me.