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Topic: Following a Lead [Closed]

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NOT SUPERMAN
Status: Offline
Posts: 41
Date: Jul 20, 2011
Following a Lead [Closed]
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Clark was standing by his window. Nursing his  six or seventh scotch of the night it was well after midnight, and he was shirtless. The nights main course was asleep on his bed, the very beautiful young woman was sleeping off the good time shared with Detective Kent. Unfortunately for Clark, he couldn’t sleep so easily.

 

It was why he slept around like he did.  Clark was a psychometric, able to see the recent memory of people and onjects that he touched. Sometimes it was nice, sex with a bimbo, lead to his mind being filled with images of lust. And maybe if he was lucky a few menial days before  the encounter. Unfortunately though, Clark wasn’t a gigolo he was a detective for the New Orleans Police Department. And he got paid to solve crimes using the god given ability he had. At least now, it was different. He had a partner who could almost understand what it was like. Natalie  could read minds, whether or not she wanted to hear what was in them.

 

Clark hadn’t seen her since she dropped him off after the crime scene, that had been days ago.  He’d slept with two lovely naive young women since then, and even caught a glimpse of some drunken girl on girl from one of the two, but none of it.  Was able to cloud over the visions he got when he read the mother.  That stayed in his head. No amount of drinking could blur the images.

 

He Knew where he had to go, he knew what he had to do, question was… why wasn’t he doing it? He finished off his scotch and looked back to the absolute vision of beauty laying on his bed, sprawled underneath the covers. A small smile offered then and he picked up his cell phone, a text sent to her saying ‘had to run to work. We should do that again sometime.’ Was typed up and sent to her phone, which chirped from her handbag in his living room.

 

It wasn’t long until the Detective was dressed, and wearing a shoulder harness, he didn’t often like doing it. But it was easier to get to then his standard holster. He still used that one, tucked into the back of his jeans. He holstered his side arm, and grabbed his back up, which went behind his back.

 

The blonde man stood for a moment in front of his mirror, he looked tired. Hell he felt tired. Here’s to hoping that a few splashes of water on his face would cure that. Drying his face off he took a deep breath and started from his apartment, grabbing his phone and dialing out to his partner on his way out.

 

Four rings and then her voicemail picked up, while he was silently hoping she would answer, maybe it was best she didn’t, she had a kid to worry about after all. “Nat…” a pause and he sighed. “ Man, I was really hoping you’d pick up… but you’re probably asleep. Can’t blame you, you’ve got all of that dreaming about me to do. I’m not going to keep you from that.  I’m going to be into some heavy stuff tonight, got a lead to follow.  Listen, I’ve got the GPS active in my car. If you don’t hear from me by morning… have the tech guys track me down. And If I’m dead then,  well… I’m sorry that you never got the chance to sleep with me… I know how much you’d wanted it… but just couldn’t admit it to yourself… I’ll see you later Nat. Sleep well.” He was trying very hard to sound like his normal, chipper, happy self. And he thought he did pretty damn good at it.

 

His message had been long winded and his drive was well under way by the time he hung up. What if it didn’t get his whole message? Sometimes voicemails could only be so long. Who knows, If she didn’t get his whole message, at least she would know something might be up. He had an address, something he picked up from the mother. And that’s where he was headed.

 

The address was to a rental property in a trailer park.  It was the only one in the row with lights on, also the only one with a car from the current decade.  He pulled past the property and jotted down the license plate. A spot in guest parking and he got out of his car.

 

 Clark neared the trailer, the tell tale flickering of a TV screen in the window of what might have been the living room. He heard the sounds of a muffled woman’s cry and furrowed his  brow at the sounds and pulled the weapon out of his shoulder rig. He didn’t know what was going on in there but when he got to the door.  He paused.  Closing his eyes he said quietly. In a normal speaking voice “this is Detective Kent of the LOPD, please, open your door and come out peacefully.” He waited before he said again, in the same quiet tone. “If you do not open the door I will break it down.” No response, but then again, there wasn’t supposed to be.  He opened his eyes then and shouldered the door open bringing his gun to bear.

 

“Holy shit…” was the last thought to go through his head.

 

(To Be Continued)



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