Fist-A-Cuffs in the Kitchen

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"When people start to try to kill you, you're probably doing something right"~Anonymous


"Not much of a cat burglar, are you?"

V.C. tsked her tongue indignantly.

"Hey, I'll have you know that I am a great cat burglar. Usually."

"See, I knew you would say that." Jack sat down on the end of the bed, balancing his elbows on bent knees, his handcuffs still swiping at V.C.'s nose. "Just like I knew you would come here."

"Awh. You know me so well. I'm touched."

She brushed the cuffs out of her face and scrounged around on the carpet to retrieve her knife.

Wait for just one second...

"Why are you here? You'd never come without a warra" Jack flashed a folded paper with a slight smirk. V.C. narrowed her eyes and scrunched up her brow.

"You lied to me? When I specifically asked you not to?"

The Commander returned the paper to his jean pocket and rose. "Well, you lied to me to so I guess that makes us even. I had the judge sign it this morning."

V.C. stared up, eyeing Jack cautiously. "Wait! . . . So you're not planning on arresting me?"

"No, I'm totally going to do that. But after this case is solved."

"Fair point."

"Come on, Spiderman," Jack offered his hand in assistance, waving the other towards the door. "Let's get to work."


Calling a temporary truce, Jack and V.C. decided to split up the house and search for clues. V.C.'s words, not Jack's. He probably would have used something more professional like 'investigate' or 'collect evidence.'

Something boring and uptight.

She knew he had a sense of humor hidden inside of him. She had seen it, just never directed towards her. It was like a switch was flicked whenever she walked into a room.

V.C. planned on changing that.


The room she had broken into looked like it was a guest bedroom that was hardly ever been used. The closets were empty, even of clothes hangers. Most of the furniture was covered in a thin layer of dust, cementing her thoughts.

Finding nothing, she moved on down the hallway to the next room.

With a toe, she nudged the door open and looked inside.

The California king inside led her to presume she had found the master bedroom. A teal duvet was spread across it neatly, fluffy white pillows lying against the bed frame. Two chestnut nightstands sandwiched the bed in a neat box.

V.C. walked across the cream carpet, careful to not dirty it.

Only people without dogs have white carpet. And I'll never trust anyone without a dog

Shaking her head, V.C. switched on the table lamp on one nightstand. An ID card rested on the surface, depicting the Jameson & Kirk logo and a photograph of Mateo Emblem.

Dropping the card back onto the top, she slid open a drawer of the nightstand. Inside was an assortment of random items: pencils, nail clippers, a cigarette box, a set of keys and what looked like allergy pills.

V.C. took out the pills and examined them more closely. The package had been opened at one end. She shook the box until the inside aluminum fell out. 3 pills were missing from the packet but overall it looked normal.

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