Trials of Love Contest Entries

Sweetheart

"Parkison, this is your job," I hear a boss-looking guy in a suit say. "He evaded capture. Again. I knew I shouldn't've hired a girl for this job."

"In my defense, sir, your daughter's life was at stake," Em Parkison, private detective, says. "It was let him get away or let him get away and have your daughter's blood carpeting the floorboards. Would you rather I let her die?"

"You should have been able to subdue the threat without casualties. That's your job."

"Oh, please," I mutter to myself, muting the feed, "like she could have done that. Em's good, but not that good."

I don't make a habit of talking to people, so I'm definitely not going to tell you my name. Instead, I'll do my best to explain what this is all about. 

Em and I have been investigating each other for years. She follows the rules; I tend to bend them. Over time it's become a competition: who can best the other first. We've gone back and forth: I've captured a few hostages, she's arrested a couple of my connections, although I tend to let her win more often than I probably should. She keeps secrets, I discover them and end up giving away my position, it's all a cycle. 

A cycle that I hope to end very quickly. To be honest, I tire of being enemies with Em. Don't tell anyone, anyone, I said that. 

"Alright, Emily Jane Parkinson," I say as I dial a phone number, "try this on for size."

Maybe I've seen too many detective movies, but I can't help but talk as if I'm on camera.

I finish dialing and hold the phone up to my ear. 

"911. What's you emergency?" 

"I think there's a rob-robbery," I say, stuttering and half-whispering.

"What is your location?"

"A bathroom in the back of a gas station."

"Which gas station?"

"The 7/11 on Canopus." My voice goes higher. "I think-- I think I'm going to faint."

"We're sending some officers your way."

I let the phone drop to the floor and I wait for the operator to hang up. 

I repeat this process a few times, my goal being to clear out emergency services before my true goal. 

I leave the apartment and hail a cab, directing him to a small jewelry store. I give the guy a huge tip for the police interrogation he'll get later, although I don't tell him that. 

I taser the guard and step through the single door. 

"Alright, people. You've all seen the movies," I say shooting one of the employees with a water gun. "Hands in the air."

"You think we're going to be scared of a water gun?" someone asks mockingly.

"No," I say. "But I do think it'll hurt a lot more when I taser you when you're drenched than it would normally. You do know water conducts electricity, right?"

He went silent. 

"Good." I pocket a ring sitting on display. "The purpose of my visit is not to take everything you've got. In fact, I support small businesses like this one. I just need enough to make a statement."

"If you wanted to make a statement," the guy from earlier says, "take the display items."

"I would, but I'm not an idiot." I squirt him with the water gun. "You track those pieces, don't you? No, I want the returned items under the cash register."