Friday, October 5, 2012
Thank you all for joining me. Remember this short story is completely a first draft. I would like to thank Cathy and the other Storytime Trysts for allowing me to join them for this fantastic Octoberfest run. Please enjoy. © 2012 Misty Harvey
Welcome, my name is Alexa Martin. This is a recollection of the first time I worked with the police on a case. I hope you enjoy the journey. ~Alexa Martin
The police station was a buzz of activity. Every officer and detective was working that day. They had a tip line in place as five volunteers began taking calls. It was the biggest case that Landow County had ever seen.
The whole community had rallied together for search parties, support, and volunteers for the tip line. Everyone was in shock and awe over the disappearance of a new teenage mother.
She’d been on the cheerleading squad, class president, and an avid volunteer at the hospital. Her life had been picture perfect. That was the main problem; the cops couldn’t find any real reason why a week before Halloween Charity had turned up missing.
Every alibi was checking out, and time was running out. The chances of finding her alive were growing slimmer by the hour. Hope was dwindling in the family and community.
Officer James Morgan paced the small confines of the chief’s office. His body was stiff with frustration. The dark circles under his eyes a sure sign it had been days since he’d actually slept. He threw up his arms.
“We are running out of options, Morgan.” Chief Winters stated.
“The tip line is going off every few seconds. Surely there is something there that will lead us to this girl.” Morgan turned to face his boss.
“We have officers checking out everyone of them, but so far they have turned up empty.” The Chief ran his hand over his own sleepless face. “The family has requested we use her service.”
“This is insane.” Morgan tucked his fingertips into his pockets to keep from punching something.
“I’m not any more thrilled about it than you are, but they are growing increasingly frustrated at our lack of leads. I’m sorry, Morgan, my hands are tied on this one.” The Chief bowed his head back over the stack of papers. It was obviously a sign of dismissal if Morgan had ever seen one.
“So that is it then? I have to cater to some crackpot while trying to do real police work. This supposed psychic better just stay out of my way.” Morgan turned on his heel and slammed out of the office. The shaking glass in the frames brought about the eyes of every person occupying the station. He glared back at them, until everyone turned back to their work.
Morgan shoved his fists into his pockets turning toward his own office. The buzz of chatter around him became a dull throb as he closed the door behind him. He went to move for his desk halting in his steps.
A petite woman sat in the chair across from him. She slowly turned toward him, her wild red curls falling along her back. Large green eyes watched him, and the color reminded him of rolling Ireland hills. The speckling of freckles along the bridge of her nose and cheekbones drew his attention farther into the green depths.
“Officer Morgan, I assume.” The tiny creature stood up, setting her purse down in the chair she had just occupied.
“That depends on who is asking.” Morgan saw her extend her hand. The woman gave him a slight smile, a twinkle dancing in her eye. If he were to describe this woman later to his drinking friends, he’d call her a pixie.
“I’m Alexa Martin. I inquired about you at the desk, but they let me into your office. I hope you’re not terribly upset.” Her voice danced along like some sort of siren’s call. Morgan shook his head once sharply to bring his thoughts back into focus.
“I’m sorry, the name doesn’t ring a bell.” He held out his hand, her fragile one dwarfed in his. He shook it politely making sure not to dislodge her shoulder.
“Maybe not by name, but I assure you, you have heard of me.” Her smile took on a more mischievous look. Morgan raised an eyebrow at Alexa waiting for her to continue.
“Oh?” He gently released her hand.
“I’m the psychic you had so many loving words to say about.” Alexa nodded toward the connecting wall between offices. Morgan felt his skin heat just under the collar of his dress shirt.
“Yes, I will not apologize for my non-belief in what you do, but I shall try to refrain from further commenting.” Morgan moved to his desk, leaning on the corner. He waved his hand at the chair for her to sit once again. Alexa gracefully poised her frame on the edge of the seat.
“I can help.” Alexa tucked her purse back into her lap.
“Okay, and what is it that you do exactly? Use cards, look into crystal balls…?” He trailed off, crossing his arms over his chest. Alexa’s smile lit the room, a genuine show of her amusement by the conversation.
“Not quite. I’m a touch sensitive, and a medium.” Alexa saw the confusion on his face. “I can usually tell you about a person by touching something that belonged to them.”
“Oh goody.” Morgan grumbled. “So how do you intent to help for the search of the missing girl?”
“I’ll need to go to where she was last seen or where she lives.” Alexa stood up, pulling the purse strap over her arm. “I’m ready to begin.”
“So you expect me to chaperone you around town so you can touch everything?” Morgan pushed himself to a stand. “Look, I appreciate you coming forward and offering your assistance, but I assure you that the police have this covered.” He tried to dismiss her.
“Officer Morgan, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It is your choice.” Alexa crossed her arms over her chest. Her lips pursed together in a hard line. Morgan looked at the door, stood, and pulled out the keys to his undercover car.
“Ladies first.” Morgan held his arm out to the door, indicating that he’d follow. He waited only moments for her to have her back to him, before grumbling to himself. The office came to a silence as Morgan walked behind Alexa out of the station. He could almost imagine the deafening rumble they would all be in wondering about the new woman.
Morgan led her to the black sedan, unlocking the doors before climbing behind the wheel. If she thought he was going to open her door for her, she had another thing coming. He was the one stuck with the crackpot, not the other way around. The cold smile he gave her once she climbed in was sure to let her know how unhappy he was. He turned over the engine and began the long drive on the winding roads.