Discovered

Chapter 6: One Step Closer

After putting my folding street, undies, and sleepwear clothes in my suitcase, I grabbed my black leather knapsack, my devices, and things then plopped it on my bed. Sweeping away my bangs, I effortlessly zipped my suitcase tightly then plopped over the bed.

Just when I was about to close my eyes, someone knocked the door lightly. "Come in," I moaned. As it turns out, it was my mother, leaning against the doorway. "Hey Cleo," she beamed. "Hey Mom," I beamed back, yawning.

She walked over to my bed then sat besides me. "I got your passport and plane tickets," Mom said. "I even called the school that your grandfather attended to, Langston Hughes High, and told them that you will be doing a column about the principal."

"Cool," I mumbled into my pillow. "Dad agreed that I should go to Harlem." Mom gave me a warm smile then lie down on my bed. When I shifted closer to her, she almost smelled like sugar cookies. "Do you feel okay about going to Harlem alone and working on this case?" Mom asked.

"Mom," I began. " You and Dad took the Kidnapped case when you guys were a year older than me, Veronica Mars took numerous cases when she was in high school, and Nancy Drew solved every case in the book when she was little."

"I'm sure I can do this on my own," I beamed. "That's what you said before you broke into Senior Goodman's house." Mom reminded. I felt my cheeks turning bright crimson then swivel my head to gaze at her. "Sorry," I mumbled. "And I learned my lesson not to break into people's houses without you or Dad's permission."

Just then, I remembered something. "You broke into a police filing cabinet, right?" I asked, remembering one of their cases. "And went into Stacy's room," Mom added. "While your father managed to slip inside of autopsy rooms, houses, and buildings without ever getting caught." "Cool," I said. "Dad was a rule breaker, wasn't he?"

"Sometimes," said a familiar voice. It belonged to Dad, who was now wearing a grey t-shirt and striped pajama pants. His brown hair was wet from the shower and his eyes grew a bit dimmer than usual. "Nice to see you, Ben." Mom chuckled. 

He smiled then lay down besides me. "I still can't believe you never get caught." I muttered. "Practice," Dad shrugged. "But that doesn't mean that I will be teaching you that, got it?" I bobbed my head in response. "Make sure you have your phone charged," Mom insisted. "If you need any help with your case, either talk to me or your father."

"Especially, some advice." Dad added. "If you are breaking into a building-" "I will ask your permission," I stated. He shook his head and advised me not to only to ask permission, but not to get caught also. "Got it," I replied. Mom and Dad kissed my cheeks then went off to their own bedrooms.

With the time remaining to go to sleep, I put away my stuff in my suitcase and set it next to my chair. As I glanced back at my knapsack sitting on my bed, I took the time to go through it make sure that I have everything I need: so far, my taser flashlight, my two full bottles of pepper spray, lockpicking kit, tablet, laptop, and their chargers are there.

It was a good thing that I charged them the day of. I grabbed the bag by its straps then plopped it on my nightstand. Staring at my untouched canvas, I wanted to take it but I worry if it will be too big for my suitcase. As soon as I get to Harlem, I promised. I will get another one.

And also with my textbooks inside my backpack, it will be very hard to ignore it. I quickly shut off my lamp then went to bed. The next morning, I woke up very excited and happy as I rushed into the bathroom to brush my teeth. After taking a shower, I put on my white blouse, denim jeans, and combat boots.

While I was brushing my dark brown hair, I noticed that it grew a bit longer than I expected. Instead of it reaching down to my neck, it was on my shoulders. Sighing, I set my comb down and put in a ponytail. "Honey, come downstairs!" Mom cried. I hurried downstairs and found her, making breakfast.

"As soon as I am gone," I began. "Can you deliver my homework to the teachers and the excuse note?" Mom nodded as she handed me my plate then kissed my cheek. She had on a black dress, wore heels fit for running, and small makeup.

"There is something that I need to tell you," she began as I put my plate of breakfast down. "There is going to be a funeral," Mom sighed. "Your uncle, your father, and I are going to support your grandmother."

Out of nowhere, Dad showed up to the kitchen, wearing his FBI suit and tie. "Oh," I said. "When will the funeral start?" "It will start after we go to Harlem," he answered. "After that, we will go back to Washington." "No worries about finding a dress," Mom shrugged. "I will give you one of mine."

Dad ruffled my hair then noticed my ponytail. "Your hair looks a bit longer than usual." he said to me. I patted my tail then blushed. "You remind me of your mother," he chuckled, staring at Mom who is blushing back. As soon as I got to the table, I saw my parents kissing until Uncle Seth showed up.

Like mine, his face was disgusted. "Get a room, please!" he cried. "I just came downstairs for a cup of coffee, not watch two rabid cats fighting!" Uncle Seth showed up in the kitchen with his yellow pajamas. Taking out a coffee mug from the cupboard, he took out the coffee pot and poured a batch in his cup. 

Annoyed, Dad looked at his brother then stared at his half shaven beard. "Will you shave off your beard?" he asked with a sigh. "As soon as I drink my coffee," he shrugged. Mom rolled her eyes as she took her plate of dry toast, eggs, and bacon then joined me at the table.

"Did you get everything ready?" she asked. I nodded then picked at my eggs with a fork. Without a warning, Mom touched my hand with hers. It felt warm and soothing against my skin. "Everything is going to be fine," Mom promised. "After the funeral, we will go back to Washington while you live with Grandma, okay?"

I looked up from my breakfast then smiled at her. "Okay." I said softly.