I finish my cigarette and head into the lobby.
I'm soaked, and I'm catching all kinds of looks on my way through the vivid crimson lobby. Long red carpets extending to their brown vinyl borders, there's even gold trimming on the edges of the carpet. My feet squish and squash as I walk across the carpet, past the thousand dollar couches, past the tiny Japanese tables, past the magazines I've never heard of because I don't make enough. My feet squeak and whine as I cross the vinyl to the reception desk.
"How may I help you, sir?" The brunette behind the counter asks me. Her roots are showing, and blond underneath brown does nothing for her. I lean over the counter, dripping all over the fake plants and the marble counter top. I look around before responding to her and take a big whiff of the air.
The place wreaks of money, crisp paper bills.
"Yeah, I'm a Private Detective investigating the death of Thomas A. Anderson. Would you be able to let me into his office?" I ask her, trying to undress her with my eyes. All I can really see beyond the black top in she probably has B-cups, not bad.
"Mr. Anderson is dead!?" She harshly whispers.
"Yup, been dead for a few days now, babe. Now how 'bout you tell Gus where his office is. Come on, make things easier on a Private Dick." I smirk, she's not biting though. Probably a lesbo.
"I'm sorry, sir. But without an appointment you aren't permitted to go past the third floor." She says twirling her hair into a bun.
"Eh, fuck it then." I say and head towards the elevators.
"Hey, what are you doing!?" She screams.
"I've gotta job to do B-Cup, thanks for your help though." Then I hear a bing! and slide into the opening doors of the elevator. I can hear the clamoring of fast footsteps running my way, but luckily the doors slide elegantly closed, just in the nick of time.
It's funny how everyone standing in an elevator has this invisible barrier surrounding them, I wonder if this is how animals can sense when someone's feeling uneasy. It's also pretty funny how we all gaze longingly at the numbers telling us what floor we're on, like it holds the secrets to life.
BING!
The doors slide open and I jolt down the hallway, speed reading the golden letters hanging on each door. I'm almost out of breath when I catch the right door. Thomas A. Anderson, CEO.
He's a CEO? Wow, did NOT know that. I hear a door open, I turn to look. Three rent-a-cops pour out from a stairwell, but before they can spot me I;m behind Tom's door. I hear their minimum wage shoes press against the red carpet, coming my way.
"Quick!" A voice says behind me. "Hide!" I dive behind her desk that's surrounded by boxes just as the cops open the door.
"Excuse us, Ma'am. But have you seen a man come by this way?"
"No, I haven't seen anyone. Can you tell me what he looks like, so I can keep an eye out?" She says calmly.
"Well, he was tall, wearing a coat. Um, and he's dripping wet."
"That's a pretty vague description, but okay I will." She says.
"Alright, well we'll just leave someone here, to keep an eye on things." The cop says.
"Sir, that won't be necessary. I'm actually getting ready to leave as we speak. Mr. Anderson's family is coming to get his stuff in the morning, so I've got to pack up."
"Alright, contact us if you see him." The cop says and shuts the door.
I wait a few minutes before moving.
"Thanks a lot, I owe you one." I tell her. This girl is big, we're talking: this girl is built like a planet. All round and life bearing, but she seems familiar.
"Consider us even, Officer Green." She says.
"Wait, what?"
"You don't remember me, do you?" She asks. I just make a face like a ate a lemon. "It's no surprise, I've changed quite a bit in four years. But I still haven't forgotten how you helped me." I bite my lip. "Four years is a long time, Officer."
"Oh! Nancy!?" I nearly shout.
"Yeah." She blushes. Wow, this girl really has changed a lot.
"Nancy, how have you been?" I ask then laugh. "Well, I can see you started eating, that's good."
"Yeah, haha!" She's most clearly laughing as well. "Well, after that whole thing with the cops at your...wait, did you quit?"
"Yeah, after that whole thing with you, I had just had it."
"It was really bad. You know, I haven't had a single boyfriend since then." She lowered her head.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Nancy." I said.
"Yeah, I just couldn't look at men, sorry, the same way. Well, except guys like you, but they're all taken or none-existent."
"Well, rape can--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"
"No, it's fine. I've stop denying what happened." Then she shook her head. "Anyway, why are you here?"
"I'm investigating Tom's murder." I said. "Mind if I look around his office for a sec?"
"Yeah, that's fine. But make it quick. I've still got to keep face with the rent-a-cops out there." This remark made me smile.
"Thanks, Nancy." I say then slip into Thomas' office and start scanning the place. Typical: files, memos, pictures. Wait, pictures!
There's one in particular that catches my eye. He's wearing a Hawaiian shirt, big sunglasses and sunscreen cheeks. But the thing that really catches my eye is the woman he's standing next to, with his arm around. It's not Allison, it's some middle aged obese woman. I take the picture out of the frame and check the back.
There it is, in black and white.
"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. Hawaii."
-Sir Jestro
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