Surya
17th August 2009, 05:44 PM
[tscii:09edc3ee23]1.
An attractive brunette dressed as a nurse walked into my room and smiled as she put my discharge papers on the table. “Hey!” She said. Her skirt was short enough to remind me of many girls I knew in Vegas. Her name was Lucy. I had grown a liking for her in the past week which I spent here healing from the climax of my last case. I’m a Private Detective. The Best…or at least I’d like to think so. My last case was finding Allison Powell, the Daughter of Mayor Powell who ran San Francisco. Taking out the head of a San Francisco Family landed my partner, James Pain, and me in the Hospital. Long story short, we found her, and got banged up in the end. After getting admitted here, I met Lucy. She was from Seattle, and was taking care of me.
“Hey…” I got up and wore my watch. “Are those my papers to freedom?” I asked.
“You know it.” She said and looked at my eyes. “I don’t get to see you anymore.” That might have been a hint, maybe not, but what the hell, I’ll go for it. What is she going to do? Turn down the best, and most attractive Private Detective in the Greater Bay Area? “I was thinking about that? Why is it that I keep running into you in the Hospital?” I asked.
“Maybe because I was you nurse for the 2 weeks, and you weren’t allowed to leave.” That was accredited to Ron Smith. My fellow Comrade in Iraq, who was now the Sheriff Deputy of the SFPD. He had requested that I don’t leave until I’m completely healed, and as good as new.
“Probably, but I was thinking maybe we could meet outside of the Hospital where you won’t be forced to nurse my wounds, and you could just let your hair down and have dinner with me…say…tomorrow night?” She giggled.
“I’ve got night shift tomorrow.”
“How about Saturday?”
“Okay Tough Guy, let me see if you are all that you say.”
“If I am?”
“That’s saying something, you’ve got a hell of a mouth.”
“I know, it’s a gift.” I said and she gave me her number.
“I’ll call you.” I said and walked out of my room with my discharge papers.
2.
It was a beautiful day. After being discharged from the hospital I drove through Market Street with the top of my convertible down, the perfect San Francisco sunlight warming my skin and the cool breeze blowing in from Fisherman’s Warf running through my hair. I took a left on Venice and parked the car on the side of the street. My Office. I took a deep breath, and I walked into my office to see shattered glass, blood stains, and yellow tape running through the middle of the room. Remnants of my last case. I was approached by the Mayor of San Francisco, Mr. Powell, who hired me to find his daughter who had gone missing. It turned out that she was kidnapped and held for ransom by the Mob. As always, everything changed after I intervened. The girl was found, and the mob was dismantled by me and my partner James. I looked at the floor where the blood had dried, and the shattered glass still lay untouched. My wallclock sat at a corner. It read 11:37. I looked at my watch, it was 11:35. Good enough. I picked it up and put it on the desk. Get the glass fixed, and it’ll be as good as new. The man who sold it to me said it would survive anything. Guess he wasn’t bullshitting. I checked my messages on my anserwing machine. It had several messages from my friends asking me how I was doing, what’s going on etcetera; don’t these people read the papers? One message though, caught my attention. It was from Daphne Trunk. The Frisco Tycoon who owns half of the shops on Market Street as well as a couple Sky Scrapers downtown. “Hello Mr. Tyner, this is Gina Angela, calling from the Office of Mr. Daphne Trunk, he would like to schedule and appointment with you to discuss a few things of personal nature. Please get back to me and we’ll make an appointment. Thank You.” Talk about social skills. Personal Nature? If that didn’t get me excited, I don’t know what will. The message was yesterday. I called Gina Angela and we made an appointment for later in the day at 5:00pm. I was asked to meet him at his office. Hmm… It was roughly noon, and I had 5 hours to kill. I started by cleaning my Office.
[/tscii:09edc3ee23]
An attractive brunette dressed as a nurse walked into my room and smiled as she put my discharge papers on the table. “Hey!” She said. Her skirt was short enough to remind me of many girls I knew in Vegas. Her name was Lucy. I had grown a liking for her in the past week which I spent here healing from the climax of my last case. I’m a Private Detective. The Best…or at least I’d like to think so. My last case was finding Allison Powell, the Daughter of Mayor Powell who ran San Francisco. Taking out the head of a San Francisco Family landed my partner, James Pain, and me in the Hospital. Long story short, we found her, and got banged up in the end. After getting admitted here, I met Lucy. She was from Seattle, and was taking care of me.
“Hey…” I got up and wore my watch. “Are those my papers to freedom?” I asked.
“You know it.” She said and looked at my eyes. “I don’t get to see you anymore.” That might have been a hint, maybe not, but what the hell, I’ll go for it. What is she going to do? Turn down the best, and most attractive Private Detective in the Greater Bay Area? “I was thinking about that? Why is it that I keep running into you in the Hospital?” I asked.
“Maybe because I was you nurse for the 2 weeks, and you weren’t allowed to leave.” That was accredited to Ron Smith. My fellow Comrade in Iraq, who was now the Sheriff Deputy of the SFPD. He had requested that I don’t leave until I’m completely healed, and as good as new.
“Probably, but I was thinking maybe we could meet outside of the Hospital where you won’t be forced to nurse my wounds, and you could just let your hair down and have dinner with me…say…tomorrow night?” She giggled.
“I’ve got night shift tomorrow.”
“How about Saturday?”
“Okay Tough Guy, let me see if you are all that you say.”
“If I am?”
“That’s saying something, you’ve got a hell of a mouth.”
“I know, it’s a gift.” I said and she gave me her number.
“I’ll call you.” I said and walked out of my room with my discharge papers.
2.
It was a beautiful day. After being discharged from the hospital I drove through Market Street with the top of my convertible down, the perfect San Francisco sunlight warming my skin and the cool breeze blowing in from Fisherman’s Warf running through my hair. I took a left on Venice and parked the car on the side of the street. My Office. I took a deep breath, and I walked into my office to see shattered glass, blood stains, and yellow tape running through the middle of the room. Remnants of my last case. I was approached by the Mayor of San Francisco, Mr. Powell, who hired me to find his daughter who had gone missing. It turned out that she was kidnapped and held for ransom by the Mob. As always, everything changed after I intervened. The girl was found, and the mob was dismantled by me and my partner James. I looked at the floor where the blood had dried, and the shattered glass still lay untouched. My wallclock sat at a corner. It read 11:37. I looked at my watch, it was 11:35. Good enough. I picked it up and put it on the desk. Get the glass fixed, and it’ll be as good as new. The man who sold it to me said it would survive anything. Guess he wasn’t bullshitting. I checked my messages on my anserwing machine. It had several messages from my friends asking me how I was doing, what’s going on etcetera; don’t these people read the papers? One message though, caught my attention. It was from Daphne Trunk. The Frisco Tycoon who owns half of the shops on Market Street as well as a couple Sky Scrapers downtown. “Hello Mr. Tyner, this is Gina Angela, calling from the Office of Mr. Daphne Trunk, he would like to schedule and appointment with you to discuss a few things of personal nature. Please get back to me and we’ll make an appointment. Thank You.” Talk about social skills. Personal Nature? If that didn’t get me excited, I don’t know what will. The message was yesterday. I called Gina Angela and we made an appointment for later in the day at 5:00pm. I was asked to meet him at his office. Hmm… It was roughly noon, and I had 5 hours to kill. I started by cleaning my Office.
[/tscii:09edc3ee23]