Case # 88 by Gary Martinsky (little red riding hood read aloud TXT) 📗

into the kitchen. Without knowing who was in the house, how many of them there were, or how well they were armed, he couldn’t afford to take any chances. Crouching, he pulled out a kitchen knife from the knife block. Not bad for self-defense. Whoever was upstairs could be his best chance for gathering valuable information, but they wouldn’t be of any help to him dead. And assuming they had guns, it wouldn’t do him much good to burst in with a knife. You don’t take a knife to a gunfight, after all. Finn glanced at the kitchen sink. On the other hand…

Finn climbed the stairs, counting as he went to skip over the squeaky ones. He was momentarily startled by a distant chirp coming from outside. The pale shadows of the stairs were getting longer. It will be morning soon, and I better hurry. The office door was ajar, and Finn could clearly make out the sound of rustling pages inside. He approached carefully, armed with a spray bottle of bleach at the ready. Sure, it wasn’t as lethal as a gun, but in a close-quarters situation, it could prove to be very effective at repelling an armed attacker. Unlike a handgun, which shoots one bullet at a time and needs to be aimed precisely, the chlorine solution bottle could hit a wide area, potentially stunning or incapacitating multiple opponents at a time. The firearm’s advantage in range and accuracy would become less significant in a space as small as the office. And the effect that the potent chemical would have on mucous membranes of exposed orifices couldn’t be underestimated. Coupled with the element of surprise, it would give Finn an advantage for at least long enough to assess the situation. And, with any luck, he could move into close combat and employ his second weapon—a rolling pin wrapped tightly in a towel. The checkered fabric wouldn’t significantly reduce the force of the blunt weapon’s strike, but it would muffle the sound, minimizing the risk of alerting additional potential enemies.

Finn got as close to the door as possible, finding the best angle to leverage his body for a silent but powerful push. Hoping the interior would still be roughly the same as he remembered it, he stepped forward, pushing the door with his hip and shoulder. There was a loud gasp and a thud as a heavy item fell onto the floor. The air filled with the acrid smell of chlorine as a slim figure tripped behind the desk and fell.

Finn retreated behind the corner. The spray bottle hadn’t been practical because the person inside the office had been facing away from him, and he didn’t have enough time to get around the desk to hit the target before they could shoot. Finn had lost the element of surprise and had to quickly formulate a new plan. Luckily, he was confident that there was only one opponent in the room, making things a little easier.

Finn decided that the stranger was not likely a new resident of the house. What were they doing in the middle of the night, searching through documents in the dark? The thud he’d heard earlier had sounded like a thick binder crashing to the floor, and he’d gotten a glimpse of some paperwork scattered on the desk. Pretending to be the police was out of the question. What kind of police officer would be armed with a bottle of bleach?

“This is a private residence! Identify yourself! I’ve already called the cops!” Finn called.

“Please!” A female voice replied from behind the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know the place was already occupied… I’m just here to pick something up for the previous residents! I got the keys from John!”

“John? John who?”

The stranger jangled what were presumably the house keys. “John Kevin, the real estate agent! I was picking up some things for him from the office!”

Finn recalled the smiling real estate agent on the FOR SALE sign outside. That was indeed his name. But the sign was clearly visible to anyone, so knowing his name and rattling some keys that Finn couldn’t even see from behind the wall were not proof enough of good intentions.

“Wait… These are supposed to be the only keys to the house right now. So…who are you?” The voice trembled slightly. “Is this…bleach?”

Knowing he too was busted, Finn knew that crude bluffing wouldn’t be so effective now. It was time to give diplomacy a try.

“Look… I’m a former cop, alright? I live…in the neighborhood. I heard some noise and came in to investigate.”

It was too risky to reveal his true identity just yet. Whoever was able to make his parents disappear so thoroughly might be after him as well.

“Okay, I’m a journalist,”  the woman admitted. “I’m researching the previous owners of this house in connection to the article I’m currently writing.”

Finn tensed up as a reflective object slowly popped up from the doorway. A scope? But it was just a mirror.

“I’m coming out!” The self-proclaimed journalist slowly came out into the hallway, watching Finn in the mirror as she did so.

She demonstrated that her hands were empty, apart from the mirror.

Finn lowered his makeshift weapons.

“My name is Alexa Ramirez. I work for the local newspaper.”

“I see… Well, it’s nice to meet you, Alexa.” Finn wouldn’t trust her just yet, but at least she didn’t seem to present any immediate danger, and she might even have valuable information. “My name is—”

“Finn Peterson! It’s you, isn’t it? The son?” Alexa was staring at him wide-eyed, lowering her guard entirely. “You left the police force after a head injury and went off the radar for months!”

If she was indeed trying to trick him, her act was pretty good.

“How much do you know about your parents? Have you heard about Project Orthia?”

“Um…”

Alexa opened her mouth to speak but stopped as an approaching siren suddenly came to a halt in front of the garage door. Through the window, they could see two officers begin approaching the porch.