Six Feet Under • Anthony Lockwood

|05|

after

Sixty-Two Sheen Road, a beautiful home in the heart of the city, was a case that was commissioned to them by Mrs. Hope who desperately wanted to sell the house after her husband died. It was a house full of painful memories and Amelia Evans could tell that from the bitter history that she and Georgie were uncovering in the middle of the archives.

A rising star named Annabel went missing and her last known location was in the house, a husband that had fallen down the stairs, it was all a bit too much for Amelia Evans to comprehend and she felt her nerves shake as she looked at the clock above George's head. It was growing close to time that the archives would close and they had heard no word from Lockwood or Lucy yet.

"We better get back to the house soon." Amelia tapped her copies of the old newspaper articles and the pictures that they had dug up, the folder that she and George made growing thicker with the information. "Lockwood has been like a dog with a bone since Mrs. Hope came to the house about this case."

"He's been prepping Lucy all week." George didn't look up at her in favor of flipping through another paper and he missed the hurt that had grown in her eyes at the mention of Lockwood spending an obscene amount of time with their newest associate. "They'll be fine."

The unsaid without us rang in the silence loud and clear and Amelia hated the fact that she had been replaced by the girl in the agency and in Lockwood's eyes. She had felt like that before at Fittes even though everyone on Kipp's team knew that she was the best listener that they had. She had felt unwanted before by everyone except George and Lockwood and now that had drastically changed in the span of a week.

"Good afternoon Lia." The unwanted voice made her pause and look of from the paper in her delicate hands. A sneer crossed her features at the sight of Quill Kipps and the other members of his team, their former team, standing at the end of their table with smirks plastered all over their faces. "Georgie."

"The only person allowed to call me that is Lia." George didn't look up from his papers, his fingers flipping the pages rapidly as he quickly attempted to find any more information on the house that was slowly upsetting his best friend. "You certainly don't have that privilege and you never will."

"What are you doing here?" Amelia questioned softly, tossing the paper on the table in front of her and crossing her arms as she leaned back to look at him. He looked every bit as smug as she remembered him to be and she wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off of his face. "You never were the one to look ahead before diving head first into cases. You survived mainly by sheer dumb luck."

"You'll see that we at Fittes Agency only want the best." Quill Kipps eyed her sunken eyes and haggard demeanor. A flash of concern crossed his face and disappeared in a flash but Amelia had seen it and she grew confused at the way his eyes darted across her face as if he was looking for something. "Now I see that you and Georgie are here doing the brunt of the hard work, but where is good old Tony? Did you finally grow tired of him and leave like I always predicted?"

The mention of Anthony Lockwood caused Amelia's nostrils to flare in anger and George to finally look up from his paper to watch the deadly expression cross the face of his best friend. It was a well known fact that Quill Kipps and Anthony Lockwood leaned more towards enemies than friends on even the days they could stand to be within ten meters of each other. They were both prideful individuals and took great pleasure in upping each other any chance they got, unfortunately that often put Amelia in the middle of a pissing contest between the two and George hated it more than anything.