General Writing
Nadirah Foxx  

Frisky Friday Flashy Fiction

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Happy Friday! It is Friday, right? Of late, I can’t seem to keep track of my days.

One thing I do know for certain is it’s too hot. My mother told me that’s because I don’t like hot weather. Well, duh! I’ve always been a Fall type of gal. Give me a place where it feels like autumn ten months out of the year. The other two can be Spring and Summer—I don’t need Winter. Who does? LOL!

Ready for this week’s installment of Deception? Detective Calvin Reeves thinks he knows what’s up!


Part Sixteen

Calvin Reeves

The license plate checked out, but nothing else did. It was as if Miss Mary Jenkins just dropped out of the sky. While I tried to decipher the mystery, the serial killer struck again. Same M.O. but no where near Hollywood.

I learned about the case over my morning coffee. Cops found the body beneath the Santa Monica pier. The SMPD called me as a courtesy. I agreed to consult on the matter since the details were so similar.

Problem was, if we were dealing with the same perp, they had gotten sloppy or the suspect was escalating. At first, Morley Wright’s murder looked like a crime of passion. Then the coroner so aptly pointed out the clues we were missing. So it didn’t surprise when the latest killing fit the rage description. At least, that was Connie’s summation.

“There are too many inconsistencies with the evidence,” she began, as we stood over the body. 


She pointed to the various knife wounds. “The assumption is that the stabbing is what killed the victim.”

“It wasn’t?” I counted at least ten visible wounds.

“No. The perp wanted it to appear that way. Actually…” Connie rolled the body slightly, and then pointed her gloved finger at a tiny prick beneath the hairline. “I’m waiting for the lab report, but I suspect it was a lethal injection. They did the stabbing post-mortem. With this many puncture points, there should have been a considerable amount of blood.”

“What other evidence did Santa Monica find?”

“Hair samples just like before. And this…” She held up a plastic baggie with what looked like a fingernail.

I scanned the room for another pair of gloves and found the box on the counter. Quickly, I donned the items and reached for the evidence. The broken, hot pink nail belonged to a woman, but it wasn’t one of those artificial press-on types. I blinked as if that would change what I held.

Maybe I was mistaken.

Lots of women wore that color polish. Right?

“Have you tested this?”

“Waiting on the DNA report. I can tell you that’s real. It was inside the victim’s collar.”

Hot damn! The break we’d been waiting for.

“As soon as you get anything, call me. I’ll be out of the office today.” I started for the door.

“Taking a day off, Detective?”

“Not hardly. Doing a little private investigating.”

“Call me if you need a hand.”

“Will do.” Although I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

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As I headed to my apartment building, I called Mary. She answered on the first ring. “Good morning, Cal.”

“Morning, Mary. Do you have any plans today?”

She sighed. “Actually, I’m not feeling too well. Think I might have a case of the sniffles.”

“That’s too bad. Can I bring you anything?”

“No, no. That’s unnecessary. I think I’ll just stay in bed.”

“All right. But if you change your mind, just call me. I’ve got a lot of paperwork to take care of and was looking for an excuse not to do it.”

“Gotcha. Well, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Of course.” 

I pulled my vehicle into the garage, but not in my usual spot. As I exited, I saw a brunette duck into Mary’s gray car. Hopping out, I glimpsed the taillights before she pulled out onto Santa Monica Boulevard.

Thankfully, I had my motorcycle on the property. Until recently, I had it at Marisa’s house. I put on my Icon Airflite helmet and revved up my Ducati V4 Streetfighter. 

I went as far as the Starbucks before heading back. Then I noticed the car parked in front of a nail salon. I slowed my bike down and backed into a space in front of a breakfast burrito joint. Instead of getting off, I watched the females going in and out of the salon. It didn’t take long before the door swung open and the brunette walked out. She strolled to the gray compact. Seconds later, she pulled into traffic. 

Naturally, I followed.

Imagine my surprise when she made the left onto Moreno and then drove into the entrance for the apartment building. Instead of following her, I continued driving. Moments later, my phone rang. I pulled into the neighborhood surrounding Beverly Hills High School and killed the motor.


“Cal, it’s Mary.”

Surprise, surprise.

“You’re sounding better.”

“Yeah, I had some cold medicine in the cabinet. Did you still want to meet up?”

“Actually, I’m in the field. Case came across my desk after we hung up. Rain check?”

“Sure. Tonight?”

“Bet on it.”

I was betting on a lot at that moment.

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