Death Is A Redhead

Chapter Five: Miss Scarlet

David drove through Jack in the Box for a burger before heading back for his apartment. If he'd remembered to get the key from Felicity before her breakdown, now would have be a great time to go to the office to get some paper work done. He needed to call his client, the New Horizon Insurance company, to complete the unfortunate business with Jim Gallagher. The incriminating photos were in police custody, but Jim's sudden demise has rendered them pointless. That conversation would have to wait until tomorrow.

When David got home, he sunk into his cool leather sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table. Absentmindedly, he turned on the television and flipped through the channels.

What a day. He and Felicity had received their first missing person case, which turned out to be their first homicide. Then, he witnessed a series of rare outbursts from Felicity. Regardless of her brave front, he knew the two were related.

This is also the first time they'd ever been police consultants. They didn't exactly have a client. They're working with the police, not for them. So, who would pay them? The chief? Obviously, David didn't have the best relationship with him. He'd have to rely on Felicity to iron out the details.

As David scanned the channels, a local news report caught his eye. A cake-faced reporter in a well tailored pant suit stood in front of the Motel 6 on Seventh Street. He cranked the volume up and focused on the background. The footage was from this morning.

"ABC 15 news is on the scene of what appears to be a tragedy at a local Motel 6. The details are just now coming in. Here we have the owner of the establishment," she said, gesturing. At that, Mr. Jameson, the sleazy interviewee from that morning, stepped into the frame. "Mr. Jameson, it's obvious from the police presence that something serious has happened. What light can you shed on the situation?"

"Well, the cops haven't filled me in on any of the details, but I think somebody got whacked!"

"What makes you think it was a murder?" she asks.

"The cops have been passing around this picture with a redhead dragging a trunk. Now, this is a stand-up establishment, but there ain't a whole lot worth stealin' around here. My guess is that there's a body in it," he explains, with a toothpick between his teeth.

"Do you have any idea who the victim is? How about the perpetrator?" the reporter asks excitedly.

"I don't know any names, but the redhead was with some loser lookin' guy. White, mid forties, middle-aged spread," he says, gesturing. "The dude had victim written all over him. Now, I ain't seen hide or hair of him since last night. I bet he's the stiff in the trunk."

"How tragic!" the reporter exclaimed with a hint of a smile. "Did you see the killer with your own eyes?"

"Yeah, I saw her. The broad came strutting her stuff into my office last night. Her and the dead guy. You could tell she wasn't really into him. They checked in around two. She was latched onto his arm, but the whole time, she was giving me the eye," the oaf said, winking at the camera.

"What did she look like?"

"As I said before, she had this fiery red hair and a body that just wouldn't quit. I heard the boys in blue say something about an assassin! If you ask me, she looked kind of Russian!"

"A Russian assassin, you say?"

"Yeah, I mean, most likely."

David chuckled to himself. The police wouldn't like this. A case like this is bound to get attention. That means the department will have a lot of pressure to solve it quickly. More than that, the media loves to sensationalize. It'll be an uphill battle just to avoid looking incompetent.