Two Shades of Blue

-Two Shades of Blue-

Lights effused through the misty haze as a man, drenched from the pouring rain, entered a notorious nightclub in New York City. Flashes of neon lights expose his callous azure eyes as he made his way towards a familiar face in the throng. Everyone stood still, peering vigilantly at the suspicious man.

The manager’s eyes widened; stunned as he approached the man, “I’ll be damn . . . I’m guessing the legendary Blake Chapman doesn’t like his grave anymore, huh?”

The mysterious man said nothing.

The pudgy man slapped his knee as he laid his arm around the man’s shoulders and laughed, “I knew that you’ve planned the whole damn thing! How did you managed to not to get caught? How did you pull off such a scheme of faking your own death?”

The man continued to cast his gaze downwards.

“What’s with the outfit there, Blake? What happened? Did you run out of disguises or something? You look like a sleuth with that trench coat and that ridiculous hat! You’ve scared the living shit out of me; that isn’t a way to greet your Uncle Koala.”

No response.

The old man raised a brow, “It’s not like you to be all quiet around your Uncle Koala. Did something happen?”

Silence.

Mr. Koala frowned. He did not like the feeling that was stabbing his chest. Something wasn’t right. “You need a place to stay?”

Silence.

Mr. Koala was now furious. He shifted his weight impatiently and sighed, being the calm man he was, he took a deep breath and asked, “What brings you here after all these years? You want something?”

“Yes, someone actually,” the man uttered as he raised his pistol to the man’s head, “Where is Blake, Uncle Koala?”

*~*~*

Within seconds, the mob swiped out their handguns and aimed at the sleuth. The old man ordered them to hold their fire as he started to sweat; he took a couple of steps back, muttering, “Who. . . who the hell are you?!”

With his free hand, he revealed his badge inside his long creamy trench coat, “Homicidal Detective Luke Chapman. . . where is Blake?”

Mr. Koala looked briefly at him for a moment and roared into laughter, “This is some kind of sick joke, Blake! Cut it out . . . you hear?”
A bullet skimmed past his right side, leaving a trail of blood dripping down his swollen cheek.

“I’m not laughing,” Luke smirked. “Where’s Blake?”

“Geez, Luke,” a man, at least about Luke’s height, walked between Mr. Koala and the detective and smiled. “You’re going to make Mr. Koala piss his pants. I’m here. . . I don’t know how you figured out my scheme. . . ”

Luke lowered his gun down and placed his cold, stoic eyes upon Blake, “Nice to see you too, Blake. It’s been. . . six long years.”

Blake raised a brow as he straightens out his pin strip navy suit, “What do you want? Did you miss your little brother or something?”

Luke loaded his gun with a bullet.

Blake shook his head, “I guess not.”

Luke’s grin widened as he gazed at the ceiling lights and shot it down.

Bullets showered the room as Blake dove under a table and ducked his head. It went on for a while until it gradually became quiet.

Too quiet.

The stench of bullet powder and fresh blood engaged his senses as he gazed at what was left of the nightclub. Bodies covered the marble, including Uncle Koala and his hit men. From where he stood, he spotted a man lying on his stomach with a trench coat on.

The same trench coat his brother wore when he came into the nightclub.

Blake eyes widen, “Shit.”

Chapter One

Blake drove up into a driveway and made his way to the isolated mansion. Once he found the lights of the godforsaken manor, he threw himself onto one of the leather sofas and sighed deeply. ‘I should have stayed home in my little, cozy apartment and away from trouble . . . but no . . . man, I hate my bad luck.’ He gazed at the piece of paper that was found in Luke’s coat. ‘Funny,’ Blake pondered ‘why would he have a piece of paper with his home and work addresses on it? Maybe, he wanted to give it to me at the nightclub . . .’

Blake shook his head; he knew that can not be right.

‘Why did he want to meet me at Uncle Koala’s nightclub when he never even met the guy? Did Luke lose his marbles or something? It was not like him to start riots like that. How did he know that I wasn’t dead for all those years? Ah, screw it. He’s dead and now I had to play the role of the homicidal detective . . .’

Blake stood up and gathered Luke’s black shirt, holster, his guns, his dress shoes, trench coat, and his badge. He ran some gel through his tousled raven hair and attempted to put in the icy azure colored contacts without poking an eye out.

Moments later, Blake stood in front of a large mirror and sighed heavily, “And I had to switch my clothes with his clothes? Man, I loved that suit . . .”

He stared at his reflection for a moment longer. He looked up hazily and moaned, “God, if this was the reason why you gave identical twin brother . . . strike me dead right now . . .”

Seconds later, he started to regret that wish once the contacts started to irritate his eyes.

While rubbing his eyes, he took a deep breath, ‘I have been through stickier situations than this. I got the look down. As long as I could fool everyone in the police station long enough to retrieve a better plan, then I will be fine. Fate was cruel enough to change me into a homicidal detective overnight. What could possibly be worse than that?’


The next day


Blake rushed into the homicidal section and searched for Luke’s office before anyone spotted him. It was bad enough that he’s thirty minutes late; it wasn’t his fault that Luke’s zeros look like sixes!

Blake kept cool and waved to the people who greeted him. When he found Luke’s name on the door, he walked right in and sighed with relief. When he thought the coast was clear, his eyes fell upon a woman who was reading the paper while leaning back on the leather chair and resting her feet on the desk.

She kept her eyes cast down; Blake was able to see only her short, angle strawberry blonde hair and the bottom of her manly shoes. Abruptly, she shot up and dropped the newspaper, revealing the article about the massacre.

“Explain to me what this is?”

Blake continued to rub his eyes, attempting to keep a straight face. “I have no idea.”

“Where were you last night? Did you forget that you, specifically, wanted this case and got the nerve to drag me into it when you know a month in advance that I have a week vacation? Because of you, I have to cancel all my plans and work on my vacation time. And, what do I get in return? Argh---don’t tell me you were busy sleeping around again---I swear. . . ”

Blake shrugged and leaned on the side of the desk, “I ran through some technical difficulties with my car.”

She snorted as she ran her fingers through her hair, “Bullshit, you’re so damn rich that you’ve owned at least five silver ‘87 Mustang GTO!”

Blake sighed and massaged his temples, “I’m sorry that I gave you a hard time and I didn’t call you last night. Something was up and I couldn’t reach you on time. I will do anything to take away that frown of yours. I mean, you don’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.”

The moment he said that, he wanted to slap himself.

The sudden silence from the woman made him gaze at her. Despite her livid state, her eyes had an interesting light auburn hue that made her, regardless of her mannish appeal, feminine and gentle.

Suddenly, Blake ended up being face to face to a barrel of her pistol, “Who the hell are you?”

Blake blinked, “What’s wrong with you today? Is it one of those crappy days?”

“There’s no way you’re Luke! Who are you? Answer me!” She narrowed her eyes as she gradually walked towards him.

“That’s enough, you two!”

The both of them turned towards Chief Logan Daniels, who was at least a good six feet in height and around his fifties. He slammed a manila folder and another copy of the newspaper between them. “Whatever happened last night, I don’t give a rat’s ass right now! Last night, our main suspect of the Ronald Chapman murder case was killed by an unknown massacre. For some reason, no one seemed to know who caused the riot. It appeared, to many, a duel had broken out between the gangs . . . whatever, that’s not the problem right now. It’s been three whole days and all I get from you two is nothing but aggravation!”

Blake raised a brow. ‘My old man died . . . since when?’

The woman sighed, “Chief,”

“As for you, Paige, what the hell was that all about earlier?! I know how much you hate your partner, but that doesn’t mean that you take your gun and make a whole god damn scene about it! If you keep this up, Miss Creed; I’ll have to suspend your pay for two months!”

“Sir, I believe that . . . “

“Believe what Miss Creed?”

“. . . That he’s not Detective Luke Chapman, sir.”

Chief Daniels slapped his knee and burst into laughter, “. . . And I’m suddenly the queen of England! You’re crazy, Paige. . . ”

“I’m not crazy,” She gazed downwards, “I don’t believe that this person is not Luke Chapman.”

“Enough, Paige, you’ve wasted too much of my and Detective Luke’s time! Visit the ‘happy house’ in your spare time. Right now, try to get along with Chapman without killing someone! Do I make myself clear?”

Paige snorted and took off without saying another word. Blake was about to follow her until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Luke,” Chief sighed, “I know this case has been emotionally wearing you down lately and I know that Paige isn’t making things better. If you want another partner, just come to me and I’ll do the rest. I don’t want my best man have a nervous breakdown.”

Blake simply nodded in reply and rushed out the office.

*~*~*

He found Paige in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette. As he approached her, she rapidly walked up to him and stabbed her index finger upon his chest. “You think this is some kind of a game or something, who ever you are!”

Blake pouted, “I don’t know what you are talking about . . . “

“You’re not Luke Chapman! I knew that bastard for four damn years and I know that you’re not him! I’m watching you, you hear me! One false move and I swear I’ll report to the authorities!”

Blake sarcastically exclaimed, “Oh no! What gave it away? The fact that I told you that you’re pretty?”

She gave out a deafening shriek and passed him through the parking lot.

Blake sighed, ‘Paige Creed is definitely going to be a problem.’