Writing
Nadirah Foxx  

FRISKY FRIDAY FLASHY FICTION

Happy Friday! How are you?

Can you believe it’s March already? I swear the days seem to be flying by. Next thing you know, it’ll be time to set those clocks forward. Urrrgghhhh…. I so hate that time of year!

Nothing new to report on my end. Just been hard at work juggling my schedule and getting things done. Anybody ready for an installment of Love Struck?

LOVE STRUCK

Part Fourteen

El

The leggy female wasn’t the stereotypical investigator. She looked more like a fan than someone to be taken seriously. 

Lamonica Weldon smoothed her tight skirt and made herself comfortable on my sofa. “It’s been a minute, El. What can I do for you?”

I picked up my phone and started the video. The bronze-skinned woman sat forward and stared at the screen. When it was over, she glanced at me. “How long has Joss been missing?”

“At least twenty-four hours.”

“You file a report?”

“I have. A detective dropped by and took a bunch of notes.”

“But you think nothing will be done?”

Not really a question. If I believed it, I wouldn’t have called the woman.

“All right. I’ll put my best people on the case.” When my lips parted, she added, “I’ll stay on top of everything.”

Lamonica and I met in high school. Back then, she was simply Monica. After a stint as a stuntwoman, she added ‘la’ to her name. She claimed to want some separation from her Hollywood career and her new one. I thought she only wanted to be fancy.

“Thanks.” I pushed to my feet, but when the woman crossed her legs, I sat down. “What else?”

“Why did this idiot target you?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “How long have we known each other, El?”

“Too long.”

“So try being honest with me.”

“This might have something to do with someone I knew in high school.”

“Who?”

“Scott Banks.”

Lamonica’s nose wrinkled, like she smelled something bad. “He’s dead, El. Last I heard, he was an addict. Died of an overdose.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Don’t worry, El. I’ll sort this out.” The woman stood. “By the way, we both know you aborted the kid. Whoever this person is must have a screw loose.”

“I don’t care about his mental state. Just find my daughter before it’s too late.”

My phone ran, and we both looked at the device as if it might explode. The display read, unknown caller.

Lamonica reached for it.

“What are you doing?”

“What I have to do.” She let the cell ring once more before answering. “Ms. Mercury’s assistant. How can I help you?” She nodded as if the caller could see and then put the phone on speaker.

“El, I know you’re listening. If that’s a cop, you won’t ever see your daughter again.”

“What do you want, asshole?”

He chuckled. “Is that any way to speak to your son?”

“You’re mistaken, sir. Ms. Mercury’s son, Ross, is on tour.”

“I’m not talking about Ross, you bitch! Listen, Mom, make the damn announcement. I want it on the news within twenty-four hours. Once the world knows, I’ll contact you again.”

“For what?” I asked.

“Instructions. First, you’re going to make things right with me. Then you get my sister back.”

Before I could say another word, he hung up.

Lamonica disconnected the call. “That’s a serious mental case. He claims to be Scott’s son?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Let me look into the matter. Think of anything and everything you knew about Scott. Where we grew up. Where he hung out.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Most of the time, I was too drunk or high to remember anything.

“Try, El. It might be the only way we find Joss.”

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