Mar
14
14
DISCLAIMER – This story features images of violence, adult language, and some adult situations.
The following story is Copyright © 2015 Padraig O’C. Copying this story without permission from the author is strictly prohibited.
Shadey Meadows, a small yet pristinely kept private set of estates made up on the southwestern edge of Bellingham. Having been built by the prestious Cunningham family only a few years prior, Nyla was just now visiting the miniature world of the rich for the first time. It was just north of the newly built residential districts of Barkley Village, and right past the train tracks. An age old marker which in many towns still gave rise to the old saying, “The right or wrong side across the tracks.”
Bellingham as a city grew up on the power of the coal industry, and years later evolved as the mines closed. Now with a decent sized harbor, local breweries, and other industries aplenty it had a long established series of ‘monied’ families. The Daniels were not one of them. Truthfully, Richard Daniels had been the son of a black man from the south who had moved to the city during the years leading to the civil rights movement. Daniels himself was a well known pillar of the community,and had worked hard to ensure equality across the area. Even his political opponent Jason Fillmore was shocked to here of his death. Nyla herself did not participate in politics, so when she started delving into this mess. She barely knew the names, and required a crash course to get up to speed.
Through her smartphone, and through asking a few questions at local campaign offices she had located the necessary information to piece together foundation of what she now knew about the Daniels family.
Richard himself was the father of a young girl of sixteen named Aleesha, and his wife was a local school teacher at the Bells High near downtown. Aleesha was a typical teenager, and was in trouble a few times, but nothing more than some basic adolescent acts of rebellion. No, there was not really much dirt on the family in general. A fact that irked the young Changeling investigator as she stopped just oustide the guards booth to Shadey Meadows.
The weather had returned to raining, and was not giving a single sign of letting up. A light rain, but still rain that successfully drenched whoever stayed outside for two long. Wearing her helmet the young woman looked at the guard as he sat away eating his lunch, and was already slowly starting to notice her parked across the street. Nyla had a bit of a reputation in town for breaking and entering. Just enough among local security companies that usually the sight of her brought some attention. Her first case as a reporter had been a the disappearance of a local boy, and after sneaking into the crime scene she had located a serious clue the police had missed.
So it was not at all surprising that when she started readying to drive past the man that a squad car pulled alongside her, and a young light headed face looked at her.
“What are you doing out here Clarkson?” the uniform said within the police cruiser. The owner was a young patrol officer straight ouf the academy last year. A young man by the name of Mateo. He was lighter than she was betraying his peninsular roots rather than the typical metizo that many were use to from immigrant families. Even his attitude bespoke of ancestry running haciendas rather than working the land of Brazil where he was said to come from.
“What?” she replied feigning ignorance after flipping up her helmet’s visor to reply. Mateo was use to it by now, his square jaw closed shut, as his brow started to knit with annoyance. His dark hair was cut short in a crue cut along his head. His dark almost black eyes methodically started to study the young woman as she removed her helmet to get a better look at him.
“You know we can’t let you into the Daniels place, the Chief doesn’t want you writing more exposes on for your boss at the Tribune to give more reason to back Fillmore.” The Editor-In-Chief of the Whatcom Tribune was a middle aged man by the name of Joseph Erickson, a long time friend of the Fillmore, and Cunningham families. Nyla rolled her eyes at what Mateo replied. She was surrouned by men in her life, and even identified with them now and then. Not like most of them or even half the women she spent time with would understand what they meant.
The life of being genderfluid, yup. I should just declare myself asexual and tell people to sod off.
Why she was down this road again she was unsure. Nyla coughed once, and then shut her visor after saying, “Fine, fine whatever Mateo. Have a nice day.”
The woman then geared up her bike, and road off. Once again she would have to use the hard way in. That meant getting out of sight, and coming back at night. Dammit. I have that stupid blind date tonight. She growled as she realized she had to somehow fit in a little jaunt into the house of a dead man, Fantastic. By Raven, and the Great Queen I hella do not want Mateo to be showing up at that date. I’m not up for machismo tonight!
She then checked her phone as it once again beeped in a monotous manner letting her know she had a voicemail. After riding her bike further northward, back into the city she pulled aside in front of a dog park and listened.
“Clarkson, this is Erickson, I have your new research assignment ready. Be in my office within the hour or I’ll find someone else.” The words rang loud and clear in her head while she gritted her teeth. At times she felt like Peter Parker with how her boss treated her research skills. Whatever. Nyla had to get the grounds of the Whatcome Tribune, and deal with the Editor-In-Chief.
Next Part: Chapter 4
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