Submerged

Chapter 2: A New Client

After getting dressed, the friends fixed a hearty breakfast of blueberry pancakes. As Cole stirred the batter, Ben brought out the dishes and set them in front of him.

Turning on the stove, Cole cut the piece of butter with a knife and plopped it on the heated frying pan.

Meanwhile, Cole's mother came downstairs wearing a pink bathrobe. Her blond hair has just been soaked in the shower.

Her blue eyes soften when she sees her daughter and her best friend.

"Hi, Cole." she beamed. "Hello, Ben."

"Hey," the teenagers responded.

I poured the batter on the pan and waited for the other side to darken.

"So, when are you two going to get married?" her mother asked sarcastically.

"In late December," Ben responded wittedly. "Right, Cole?"

She flips the pancake and toasted its front side.

"Yeah," Cole replied. "Around December twenty-fifth."

Someday, the young adults decided to get married in London, where Ben lived until the age of two.

"Wow," Cole's mother whistled. "That's only a fifteen days away."

"Yeah," Ben sighed. "We want to get our marriage licenses ready just in time for the event."

As soon as the pancake is golden brown, Cole placed the cake on the plate, Ben volunteered to make more.

"Ben, I'm not a damsel." she giggled.

It's true; Cole is more of a hardcore tomboy than a kindhearted girly girl.

While most girls preferred dresses, skirts, and high heels, Cole preferred shirts, jeans, and black leather combat boots.

Her leather black knapsack consists of a taser flashlight, two pepper spray bottles, and electronics. 

Studded diamonds appeared around the bag.

"I never doubted you for a minute, Irene." Ben grinned, playfully kissing her cheek.

Since the moment they lay eyes on each other, Ben nicknames Cole The Woman or Irene Adler after Sherlock Holmes' love interest.

While Cole busied herself with pancakes, Ben and Cole's mother set the table.

"Are you sure you want to get married in a cathedral in London?" her mother asked jokingly.

"Yes Mom," Cole sighed for the umpteenth, placing another pancake on top of the stack.

"It's going to be a private wedding."

Her mother wrinkled her nose at this. Even though it was a joke, she didn't understand why her daughter wanted a private wedding; when she was Cole's age, her entire family and friends made her huge wedding a success.

After Cole made a huge mound of scrambled eggs and bacon, Ben took the plates to the table and together, everyone ate their breakfast.

But the minute Cole swallowed her orange juice, there was a knock on the door.

"Coming," she called. She quickly finished her morsel of eggs then walked over to the door. In front of her stood a teenage boy, holding something in his hands.

He wore a dark hoodie, a red shirt, jeans, and blue sneakers.

The boy had neck length brown hair and brown eyes.

"Hi," Cole beamed. "How-"

"I need to speak to you and your friend." he interrupted.

Cole rose her eyebrow quizzically, but allowed him inside.

Ben quickly finished his breakfast and followed them to the gray living room couch. 

The boy sat in the center as the couple sat on the opposite sides.

"Is there something troubling you?" Cole ask.

The boy nodded eagerly.

"What happened?" Ben questioned.

"My father is an Army veteran who served America for at least five years," the boy began.

"He received tons of medals, awards, and meet the president twice."

Cole smiled and nodded while Ben sat in his seat, observing the boy's rigid movements.

"Today," he continued. "He was supposed to come home, but his buddies came and told me that he's dead."

Ben stared hard at the boy for awhile before I asked the child a question.

"You don't think his death is an accident," I sighed. "Don't you?"

The kid looked at me in amazement and nodded.

Meanwhile, Cole's mother cleared the dishes near the sink.

"The classified file gave it away," Ben chuckled. "Where did you get it?"

The boy let out a sigh and scratches his head.

"I got it from his office," he answered truthfully. "I was doing some spring cleaning when I found it under his bed."

He handed Ben the file and watched as he flipped through the pages.

All of a sudden, his eyes widened as Ben hands the kid the file and takes Cole to the bathroom.

"We'll be right there in a minute," Ben called as he shuts the door.

The bathroom has gray walls, smooth white tiles, and white appliances. A smell of strawberry blended with the stench of bleach, making the detective duo smell a sweet, but deadly odor.

Cole looks at him strangely as he locks the door and turns on the shower faucet.

She knows that the sound of water running keeps eavesdroppers away.

"What's going on?" Cole asked. "What did you read that was so-"

"The kid's father has something on a terrorist," Ben explained.

"What?" she shrieked. "How is this possible?"

Would this mean the killer is one of the ISIS members? Cole thought.

She ran her fingers through her hair and crossed her arms.

"How did his father get this file?" Ben hissed. 

"It's a CIA classified document, and yet he has this."

"Maybe he knows someone," Cole suggested. "We just need to tell his son about what he knows."

"What if we put this kid in imminent danger?" Ben sighs.

"The last thing we need is someone dying."

He's right, Cole thought.

"Telling him what is in that file could traumatize the kid and his family." she explained slowly.

"What should we do?"

Ben shrugs his shoulders and says that we should tell him as limited as possible.

Cole gave Ben a small nod then evacuated the bathroom.

Ben shuts off the shower faucet and lights then follows her to the living room.

Walking back out of the bathroom, they met the kid again, who's still sitting on the couch.

Cole's mother stood near the refrigerator, filling a green cup with lemon tea and hands the beverage to the boy.

"What's your name?" Cole ask.

"Harry Randall," he answered.

The Randall?  Ben thought.