Moore For Less Investigations: The Kid

Moore For Less Investigations :The Kid Chapter 1

Chapter 1  

     I’m sure you’ve heard this one before. You know how these stories start. They always start with a girl. It was a dreary Wednesday afternoon and I’d just finished filing the case notes from my last job. Outside my window the rain splashed heavy against the windowsill. I took a drink from my glass of bourbon as I watched the steam powered cars pass by on the street below. It reminded me I needed to take my Athena for a tune up. Another excuse to see Lucy I suppose.

   The smell of her perfume hit me before she could rap on the door. A combination of honey and wildflowers drifted under my door and worked its way to my keen nostrils. I suppose I should explain that. Let’s just say I’m not entirely human, a little gift from my parents. I turned around to face the door and said, “Come in.”  

   The door opened to a radiant woman; human I could see. She wore a dark gray pinstriped dress with a black bodice over a cream colored blouse. She wore a brown canvas overcoat that was dotted with droplets of rain. Her skin was fair in color with a hint of red to it. Her hair was a fiery red and pulled back into a small bun. She possessed green blue eyes like the color of the sea on a sunny day. We finalize the description with a button nose, lips painted the color of candied apples and a look of sorrow and distress.

   Distress is every man’s weakness. Well it sure was mine anyway. She sat her umbrella in the rack just outside my office door which read: “Moore for Less Investigations.”   “Are you Mr. Moore?” she asked timidly.   “Yes Ma’am,” I told her as I walked over to the door and escorted her in.

       My office is not a big place; a single room with a desk and a typewriter, coat rack, file cabinets, scrying mirror and two chairs. I assisted the lady with her coat and escorted her to the chair and walked around the desk to sit in my own. She appeared very worried and a bit distracted.

  “And you are?”

  “Oh I’m sorry,” she said with a start.

“I am Arlena Silverstein. I’m the daughter of Augustus Silverstein, the airship mogul.”

“Yes, I am familiar with your father and Silverstein Air. What can I do for you ma’am?”

  “Well you see, I have a problem. My son..,” She stammered. She began to shiver uncontrollably.  

“It’s OK.” I told her. “Tell me everything and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

       She took a deep breath and regained her composure. She pulled a handkerchief from her waist pouch and dotted away tears that threatened to ruin her make up.  

“Three days ago, my nanny took my son Braylen to the city park. No one has seen either since. The police said that they believe nanny just run off with my son.”

       As she spoke I pulled out my small notepad from my desk and jotted down notes. She continued,

“Well yesterday I received this letter. The letter said that if I didn’t bring them the new blueprint for the drive cores my father’s company was designing, I would never see my son again.” She broke down in full sobs at this point. As I said earlier, I’m a sucker for distressed women in need of saving.     

      I rose from my chair walked over and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. I knelt before her starting right into her eyes. She shied away after a moment. Most do, some say the golden hue makes them difficult to look directly at.       

“It’ll be OK, ma’am,” I told her. “I’m really good at finding people. You could say it’s my specialty. Did you bring the letter?  I will need you to send me something of both the nanny and your son, also provide me with the nanny’s address.”