#jack muffin

[vendiko]

Part Two: Sugar and spice

Woo, procrastination! First part here.

    I knocked on the door of her apartment at about 13:00 the next day. The building was surprisingly run down for Ms. d'Eclaire, given her father's money. I took note of the fact. When she answered the door, I nearly fell flat on my back. All she was wearing was an ornate chocolate robe, barely tied at the front.

    "Why, hello Jack." she purred, "please come in."

    Now, you know how much of a sucker I am for a delicious dame, but this tasted sour. Something wasn't sunny-side up, if you get my drift. It was then that I noticed her eyes.

    "We all have our hobbies, Ms. d'Eclaire, but bowling won't get me arrested for substance possession." I walked to the center of the room, then turned to her: "where's the spice, Julie?"

    She tried to hide the shock that crossed her face. She was good, daddy must've shelled out for acting lessons. But I was better. "Why, whatever do you mean?" she said, her voice rich with artificial sweetener,

    "Listen, kid, stay off the spice."

    "You said it yourself. It's just a hobby."

    "I've met some 'hobbyists' like you before," I grabbed her arm, she pulled away.

    "Oh yeah? Well, what happened to them?" Panic tinged her voice, but she needed to hear this, I wasn't going to sugarcoat it.

    "Three overdosed, the rest were permanent residents of the Bake Sale last I heard." This froze her in her tracks. "Tell me, please, where's the spice?" I grabbed her hands. "Where is it, Juls?"

    Her eyes tearing up, she pointed with a wavering finger to the kitchenette in the corner of the studio apartment. "I-it's o-over there...in the top cupboard...behind the icing..." I was arm deep before she could say anymore. My fingers closed around a paper bag. I was about to shout to her that I'd found it, but there came a knock on the door. 

    "EY!" The resounding thud of fist on cheap wood. "Open up in dere!" Damn. sounded like a thug, and I know my thugs, and they know me. I needed somewhere to hide. But where? 

    Julie held the door shut, good girl, buying me time. "Just a minute!" she yelled through the door. 

    Somewhere to hide. C'mon, think! 

    Modern refrigerators are remarkably spacious.

[vendiko]

Part one

     "Are we alone?" she asked sternly.

    "Like the last piece of pie," I answered, "for now."

    She sank into the chair across the desk from mine. "Are you Jack Muffin? The PI?"

    "That's what the door says, lady." She looked relieved.

    "My name is Julia d'Eclaire, and I need your help." Classy name. The d'Eclaires were one of the richest families this side of the Meringue. They were dairy magnates. You couldn't buy a bottle of cream without their name on it. Julia must've been one of Mr. d'Eclaire's 'Sweetuns', his trio of daughters famous, well, infamous for changing husbands as often as their clothes. Girl like her would probably have me follow her current 'Steady Eddie', see if he's been reaching into someone else's cookie jar, if you get my drift.

    "Mr. Muffin?"

    "Listen, ladyfingers, I ain't gonna shadow any flatfoot for any dame that-"

    "I need you to find something for me."

    The lady must've heard of me. It was a specialty of mine, finding. Whether lost or stolen, I'd sift through the city and come out on top, with whatever priceless trinket in hand.

    "Alright, Ms. d'Eclaire," I replied with a politeness reserved for paying clients. "I'll bite. What've you lost?"

    She glanced around for a moment, then: "It wasn't lost, Mr. Muffin,"

    "Please, call me Jack" I was laying it on thicker than butter cream.

    "Jack...it was stolen."

    Ah, crime. My favourite flavour.