The Search For Taylor

((Yeah... like I said, this is a P.I. story made back in 10th or 11th for Creative Writing. Mr. Pryor gave us the first sentence to start with for each part and the students had to make a short story out of it. And so.... here's my story. xD Hope you like it. Enjoy. =] Don't forget to rate me and tell me what I've done wrong or right. I love critique.))



Part 1


         To this day, I still can’t believe how I became a P.I. It all started when I was in my office, a voluptuous brunette walked through the door. She looked at me through ravenous brown eyes... yeah, I could tell she was into me. I sat there in my comfy, cushioned, roll-away chair, looking at her as she took a seat in front of me. She slowly dug into her large purse, brought out a file and threw it on my desk... I knew it was my first case. Sure I was a nobody at the moment, but I did have a degree in my craft, and my name in silver lettering on my desk. The name’s Corner, Wright Corner to be exact. I started this business a few months ago when I was getting bored of sitting in the house watching nothing but reruns. But anyway... the woman bent over my desk and began explaining her situation. Being the pervert I was, my eyes wondered elsewhere, but I did what I could to stay focused... the gentle vision of her V-collar and luscious cleavage distracting me ever so slightly (greatly really... but she didn’t need to know). As my wet dream began to go on, I was awaken by a gentle slap to my left cheek. She eyed me intensely, stressing her predicament once again. I sighed, this job wouldn’t be easy... finding a kidnapped daughter would prove, challenging. I agreed to take her case, on one condition... the allotted amount she promised, and a date. She agreed hesitantly and shook my hand over the desk as a promise. She left with a slight smile and a bit more life in her cheeks. I had to began now. Yet... something inside me felt I would loath this case.

         I was set, I grabbed my gear, the file, put on my trench coat and left the building. Seeing as my car was in the shop, I had to grab a taxi. At the first sight of one, I raised my hand and waved it furiously in the air.

“TAXI!!!”

         Before I knew it, three taxis had passed me by. I had to think quickly or else the case would be lost before I began. I suddenly jumped out into the rode, in front of the oncoming taxi. He stopped, a bit mad, but let me in. I nodded gratefully and turned my attention to the files in my hand. I began to read them silently to myself, familiarizing myself with what I was up against. My target was Taylor, an 8 year old, English girl, daughter of an obviously wealth oil tycoon. It all seemed obvious to me, she had been kidnapped by fiends who wanted her father’s money. An obvious ransom it seemed... but in the files, it said nothing of her mother, Strange.

         I had the driver head to a spot I thought could get me some leads. An old, abandoned gas station, not too far from the tycoon’s estate. Once there, I exited the car and told the cabbie to stay somewhere close, I’d need him later. I could tell he didn’t want to, but he was most likely interested in getting his money (which I hadn’t paid him yet). He left and I walked up to the building. It was pretty large considering it was a gas station, but from what I remember had been a breeding ground for insects... the reason the place had been close for years now. I walked up to the door and slowly placed my hand on the knob. It was grimy, but I had not choice, I turned the knob as gently as I could. Once opened, I walked in, but heard the sound of footsteps, so I quickly rushed into a hiding spot. Two men had stepped into the room from another, one and a briefcase, both seemed as if they were waiting for someone. I stayed behind the aisle divider and began to wait it off. This reminded of some old times back in college, I had been a bit of a delinquent, so I was used to finding great hiding spots. I soon began to remember all the good times I had evading the law while hiding. They all seemed so... droll. As I was finishing my little trip down memory lane, she walked in.


Part 2


         I could tell she had money, whatever was in the briefcase she was about to handover... I needed to pay for my car repair. I bit my lip. As she placed the suitcase onto the gritty floors of room, I could tell she was getting ready to kick it over to the men for her half of the bargain. As she began to cock her leg back, I suddenly leapt from my hiding spot and rushed for the case. The men she was holding the transaction with saw me instantly and quickly went for their weapons, retrieving 9mm pistols and yelling.

“Damn whore, you set us up!”

         As the two pointed their weapons, I hurriedly dug into my coat and revealed my Uzi, quickly spraying the two to death... but not before being hit by three slugs (luckily the guys had terrible aim and only hit non-vital areas). Grasping my arm, Uzi still in hand, I walked over to the fine female that now held her briefcase, the men’s briefcase and an angry scowl on her beautiful face.

“You just ruined the transaction, you idiot! What the hell were you thinking?” She yelled at me, both briefcases swaying in her hands.

         I made no expression. I only took the men’s briefcase from her hands and walked out of the establishment. I raised the briefcase to my left ear and gave it a listen... ticking? I placed the suitcase on the ground, unloaded my Uzi’s current clip, replaced it with a new one, grabbed the suitcase, tossed it high into the sky and quickly began to send multiple metal cylinders its way. As I thought, it was a miniature scale bomb and went off as soon as the first bullet hit. Sighing, I signaled the cabbie who was just coming back around the corner. Once he pulled up, I began to open the back seat door. As I was entering the car, the woman I’d met inside walked up to me and asked, “How’d you know? Are... are you psychic?”

         I smirked and shook my head and index finger, beginning to answer her.

“No no no.... I’m just an average Joe. I’m a private investigator but besides that... I’m just like any other man you’ll meet.” I said, now rubbing the back of my head, a childish smile on my face.

         The woman nodded, a gentle smile on her face to compliment the slight blush she now had. As I closed the door, she quickly tapped at the window and I rolled it down. Once it was low enough, I popped my head out to ask her what she had wanted, but was cut off by peck at my lips. She had kissed me. As I was about to ask her what she had done it for, she beat on the car and told the cabbie to go. He sped off, leaving me gazing after the woman as he zoomed down the streets. Sighing, I rolled the window back up and dug out my cell phone. I hadn’t found any leads, I needed to the tell the woman so... Damn this case.

         Well, the trip to Dallas had been for nothing, I’ve been shot three times and still needed to find Taylor.


Part 3


         I still had not been able to find Taylor. I can not solve the case without doing so. My client informed me that Taylor was either on a boat to Mexico or a plane to Paris. I quickly shut my cell and told the cabbie to get me to the airport. Once we arrived, I finally payed him and rushed through the double doors to get a ticket on the next plane I could going to Paris. I got my tickets and rushed through the gates for the plane that was scheduled to leave in couple of minutes. I boarded the plane quickly and found my seat between two suspicious looking figures. As I was seating myself, I found I was surrounded by agents in black, all reaching for their coat pockets. I duck suddenly as I sat, hearing a great amount of gunfire around me. When it all came to a stop and the smoke had cleared, I found that many of those so called ‘agents’ had been on my side and helped against the actual agents. Letting off a great sigh of relief, I relaxed back into my seat, knowing the two on my both my sides had been beautiful allies of W.S.I.B. (Women’s Secretive Investigations Bureau), a team I had helped out before my career as a P.I... but I won’t get into that. Anyways, being the man that I was, I slowly wrapped my arms around the two and nuzzled them simultaneously until the plane was flying over Paris. The girls nodded towards each other before they leapt up from their seats, grasped my arms, ushered me out of my seat and towards the door, then chucked me off of the plane yelling after me. “Call us after you complete your mission, Mr. Corner.” I smirked and quickly pressed a button on the wristwatch I always wore that ejected a great parachute from its face. As I descended towards the city’s park, the parachute reverted back into the watch and my feet hit the soft soil with a slight thud.

“Mmm... gotta make the duration a bit longer.... that could’ve killed me. Eh...” I shook my head and gain a bit more composure.

         Once over my near death experience, I rushed over towards the coordinates given to me by the client. Luckily, the girls from the W.S.I.B. had given me a present, a highly supped up Lamborghini Diablo.... that I could command on my watch (damn those girls don’t cease to amaze me). At the speed of that car, I soon arrived at my destination, a 5-star Hilton hotel. Once in, I bought myself a suite to avoid too much attention (and to have a place for something extra to come my way) while I looked for Taylor.

         Searching just about everywhere in the hotel, I soon found myself in front of the hotel’s best suite. I sighed, grabbed the door handle and opened the door (which was ajar). I could hear a voice as I opened the door, peaking into it, I saw a maid. I walked into the room listening to the maid speak a language I could not understand, but there was Taylor on the bed stiff with a knife in the back and a letter taped to her chest.


Part 4


         As I read the note, I could not believe what was happening. I knew who was responsible for the knife, but I didn’t know who committed the actual murder. The note had read, “I’ve done my deed for God, so I’ve done no wrong. I have yet to accomplish the whole quest, but the death of the child was a good start. Now there are many others of the family I must finish off, hopefully they won’t be as whiny as the girl. And oh yes, to you who are reading this... you will not find me. Though I am very near, you will not see me... until I appear.” I sat into a chair near the bed, reading the note over and over. I just couldn’t get that last line. The culprit was definitely near, but where it made me wonder. Was it the maid... no, I figured the maid to be the one that supplied the knife. But the why was what puzzled me. The only reason I knew she’d done it was a word she’d said, “Knife”, the only English word I heard come from her mouth. I pondered and pondered, giving poor Taylor’s body a gaze. I felt I had failed my client, Taylor had just been in my reach and I had failed to rescue her.

         After a while of self pity, I finally stood and walked back over to Taylor’s body. My eyes fell on the knife and I grasped it from her body to give it a look over. As I thought, the design was the same as one I had seen long, long ago. But only one person owned such a knife, but she was definitely in prison. I was sure of it. I turned to look out the room and gazed at the maid who was now dusting an ancient candelabra. As I stared at her, she began to look more and more familiar to me, but from where. I sighed and looked away from her, gazing back at poor Taylor’s body. That was when I noticed she was in an odd stance, especially for one who was among the newly deceased. She wore a frighten expression, her left arm slightly covering her mouth, but her right was pointing straight out (into the air, from the way she was laying). That got me, I suddenly looked onto the floor, grabbed a pair of shades I had gotten long ago from the W.S.I.B. and took an extra hard look. As I looked, I found what seemed to be Taylor’s footprints and quickly deduced that she had been pointing directly at the closet. Soon the ever popular “Trapped in the Closet” came to mind. How I really didn’t want to think of R. Kelly on this mission.

         Sighing, I shook the horrible thoughts from my mind and walked over to the closet door. I then went to open it. No sooner had my fingers touched the doorknob, the maid walked into the room. She looked at me a bit strangely, but I felt as if she would help me... some how (that was something I hadn’t really thought on). I walked over to her and explained the whole spiel on mission and what I could to un-confuse her. I suddenly grasped her arms and told her.

“The killer... the killer’s in the closet, the note said...”

         Before I could finish, a noise emanated from the room, interrupting what I was saying. Suddenly, the closet door burst forth and a shadowy figure came from within, a man of tattered clothes and little sex appeal.

         He had come from the closet and said, “Taylor’s murderer wasn’t me!”


Part 5


         He had a gun, so I pulled out one, so did the maid. I didn’t know how this was going to turn out, so I let fate decide. I shut my eyes, figuring I was outnumbered, I awaited my death. Two shots went off, I could smell the gunpowder floating in the air as I flinched. Miraculously, I felt little pain, then I felt the gentle, soft texture of a woman’s hand sweep across my face before grasping my right cheek. I slowly peeked out of my eyes to see a beautiful face venturing closer to my face. The maid.... no, it was the woman I met earlier in the abandoned building, during that transaction. I tried to speak, maybe say a thank you or so for the obvious rescue, but she stopped me with her index finger gently pressed against my lips. I nodded and she pointed towards the area I’d been shot, I looked and was suddenly hit by an hypnotic force. She kissed me. I smiled and slowly drifted off into a blissful slumber, escaping the realism of pain.

         Three months later, I sat in a large, relaxing chair in my office, pondering about the life ahead of me. Though I could not save Taylor, I’d almost single handedly solved the case of the murder. Though the man who leapt from the closet had not been the actual mastermind, he was in on the plot to murder Taylor... and did the actual dirty work. The mastermind, I found, had been dead for many years now... the mastermind had been her mother. The person who gave me her case had been in a way her mother, but also not... she was one of those new android models you hear about these days (so real looking, you can’t tell them from actual people). The thing that gave her away to me was the squeak I heard as she entered and exited my office that first day, she had needed repairs. The android had the mother’s old memories, the loving, caring memories of her daughter... shame, I found her dismantled days ago. Going on, my mission from the start had been to find Taylor’s stalker in the shadows. That was Cornelius Closet, funny he would come out the closet and in the end be left dead in the closet. Shame... R. Kelly, I figured his music had a hand in this (or maybe I was just hoping it did... he needs the jail time).

         Sighing, I grabbed a stick of Winterfresh and tossed it into my mouth. Contemplating all that happened and the new love I now had for the woman that was my savior, wondering if she could deal with my nonstop flirtatious attitude (a.k.a. my womanizing).

“Ah... who cares?” I thought to myself aloud, leaning back in my leather chair.

         Me, I could lie my way out of a beating at least. But everything else was okay (not the way I wish it had turned out, but okay). I savored what other things I had on my mind (you’d rather not know this) and longingly stared at the clock on my desk. I would have never guessed that everything would turn out this way. I now sat in my chair, wondering who was going to come in my office door next.