She was a dangerous beauty, she was a force to be reckoned with, she left people wanting to know her and for the ones who came at her wrong, she left them broken-legged. No one really knew the real her, she acted different around different people and put up this front sheltering anyone from getting too interested with her or knowing her too well. She was a unique woman, a mystery if you might call it. No one knew where she lives, no one knew her name or even her in general. She's twenty-five with a past no one would be really proud of but it's her life and if anyone questioned her about it that was always her reply, "it's my life." Girls hated her, guys wanted her to be theirs. She left the scene of many places leaving people wanting to know her and who she was. 'The girl with fierce red curls' was how she was known as, she has powering, bright and innocent-like brown eyes. She gave off the innocent attitude but no one could trust her. It was a dark, rainy and stormy Friday evening and I, Jackson Anderson was sitting in my favorite diner in the small town, drinking black coffee and having some tomato soup. I was catching up on old high school times with the waitress while reading the arrest section of the local newspaper when a black and white picture of a woman had caught my attention.
I focused on the woman, she was striking in beauty no doubt. Part of her showed a fierce dangerous side to her face but her curls gave a much softer side of her off. "Hey, Maggie, whose this lady?" I carefully sipped my coffee as I stared more deeply at this woman, Maggie was my old high school friend who now waitressed at the diner. She took the newspaper from me, glanced at the picture for a few seconds, "that's the red curled girl. No one knows her, I've seen her around. Spends much of her time at clubs, she's been in here a couple times but kept to herself, she's intriguing and mysterious that's for sure." She returned my newspaper to my grasp and took my soup bowl. "I want to find this girl, I want to know everything I can find out." I fumbled through the other sections of the newspaper, "but, Jackson, how can you catch her? How can find her? She's almost invisible." She was right, she spent her time at home during the day and clubs at night almost always. "I'll find her, Maggie. I want to know why she stays invisible." I tipped her generously as I reached for my trench coat and newspaper, "be safe out there, Jack. I hope to see you soon and with good news about the woman, huh?" She smiled hopefully, "we can hope," my hopeful smile matched hers as I grabbed my umbrella and walked out to my BMW. Let me introduce myself, I'm Jackson Anderson but Jack to some. I am a investigator for the towns police, I do a lot in range as what my job entitles me. I am 27 and have been divorced for a while now. I enjoy libraries, cigars, golf and cars, old cars to be exact. This so called 'mysterious' woman was about to be cracked and I was determined to find out all the answers to the questions the townspeople were asking everyone or anyone who mentioned her in conversation.
I arrived at my condo in the upper class part of the small town, I parked my car in the garage locking it, I walked inside my house sitting on the couch, I reached for the laptop and searched for anything I could think of in my head that would bring me closer to this woman. Nothing turned up in search engines, just stock photos of women with red hair, hair salon studios and ads for cosmetology classes. I decided to check police reports on the website. I signed in and began looking at every report ever reported, thinking that maybe this woman was reported near scenes, at the scene or was the one reporting a crime. After searching diligently for thirty minutes I had to get up and make something to eat. I sat at the dining room table pondering the woman, whoever she was she sure kept her life locked down. My business cell rang in my holster that was clipped to my trousers, I answered without checking the caller I.D, "hello?" Asking instead of answering, "Jackson, it's Tony, we got a report of homicide that you might want to check out down at the Foxy Lady strip joint." "Tony, man, I don't know, that's a long drive and I just got home. Am I the only one in my department?" The club was in the city, quite a long drive from here but a homicide can not go un-investigated. "Marcus is still on vacation and Justin is still out with his blown knee, you're all that's left." Tony exclaimed, "well, I'm leaving right now, man. See you later." I hung up and quickly grabbed anything I needed. I opened my garage door, unlocked my car and drove off.
I reached the club with ambulances, officers and people surrounded at the scene. I talked with the officer who told me to go and talk with the ladies working. I walked in and seen a blond haired lady dressed in a black patent leather tight fitting suit with the sides and stomach cut out. Her hair in a ponytail wrapped around her shoulder, "ma'am, I would like to ask you a few questions," her head looking down at me from the stage she got down to face me. "Sure, just call me Diamond," she led me to a nearby table and sat in front of me, "Diamond, did you see the killer at all?" She sat quiet for a while, thinking, "well, I saw a woman, I'm not sure who, leaving." "Diamond may you tell me what you were doing before the incident?" The look of fear showed through her face, she looked innocent but looks wasn't going to get her out easily, "I was working the floor, taking requests and meeting the clients. I heard a gun shot then another and took cover under a empty booth table." Her story checked out, "diamond can I get your real name?" She was about to stand up to leave, "Flora," the police officer called me to come see something. I looked back over at Flora but she disappeared in thin air.
Can I say something about your first post. You were writing in the past tense, then said '...nobody knew where she lives...". Shouldn't it be where she lived?
Police officer Randall led me to the victim, a twenty-four year old man, about 6' even, wearing casual denim blue jeans, a black belt and a sports team sweatshirt. "What did you need me to check out, sir?" I examined the man but couldn't find anything suspiciously out of order on the man, "his neck, the left side," he stated confidently. I walked to the other side of the man kneeling down to check out his neck, a kiss of ruby red colored lipstick was staring right back at me. "Well, that is indeed strange," I got back up into my normal posture again and took notes. "Have any leads yet?" A familiar voice asked me, "Tony?" I turned around to see Tony walking from his police car and up to me, "glad you could make it. No, no leads yet but one of the dancers claimed she seen a woman leaving, I have a few more ladies to question but Randall called me out here to look at a kiss stain on the mans neck." "Well, we will take care of the man while we wait for the coroner to arrive. Try and find out about the killer." Tony shook my hand firmly before I walked back into the club, "sure thing," I gathered my notebook and went back inside looking for another dancer.