Chapter 7 - Vanilla and Honey

June 1, 2018

Indie waited inside the car patiently. Soft tunes of jazz music filled the empty car. The smooth melody of  the saxophone accompanied by the trumpet and trombone relaxed her completely. Flashes of an evergreen forest, pristine waters, snow capped mountains and a cool, fresh breeze passed through her mind like memories long forgotten.

The squeaky sound of the door opening and prompt slamming alerted her to her father's presence. Silence reigned between the two, as her father started the car, the roar of its engines filling the silence briefly. Her eyes, however, remained closed, her head leaning against her fist on the window. The whole ride was silent; no one talked, both trapped in their own thoughts. Soft jazz music played in the background of their thought-filled silence.

As soon as they arrived, Indie got out and headed inside, straight to her room. Her room was bright and airy, the window slightly cracked open with the curtains billowing softly against the breeze. Indie dived like an Olympic swimmer on her bed, groaning into the soft pillow. She was tired, the feeling making itself known just then, her head felt heavy like a large boulder. And even if she wanted to get out of bed, she found that she could not. But she didn't care. Sleep was a welcomed respite from the long days and nights of cracking this case.

John McAdams, on the other hand, found that he could not fall asleep. And though his eyes were feeling heavy and bloodshot from lack of sleep, his mind couldn't seem to rest. Must be the caffeine. The primary suspect for a restless mind. Wearily, he sat himself on the battered, leather sofa; rubbing tiredly at his eyes. The faint scent of vanilla and honey wafted through the air like an old memory, clenching his heart painfully.

But while the past still had him in its tight grip, Indie was free from its painful influence. Or at least, that was what she thought. A large part of her hated the past. And as she lay on her bed, asleep, nightmares were slowly creeping in, ready to pounce and plague her.

The house was silent, eerily so. Light seeped in from open windows, the wind billowing softly, the curtains flowing along. Indie stood in the long, empty hallway, her eyes scanning the open kitchen and living room space. Stairs that lead to the upper floor stood by her right. Soft footsteps reached her ears, and she turned to see a young child, her red hair bushy, unkempt.

'Mom!' She called, Indie realizing at once that the little girl was her.

'Yes, honey?' The soft lilting voice of a woman permeated the room, her soft smile and pretty face coming into view as she held a plate in her hand. She had been wiping it clean, her eyes bright with joy. A vast difference to how she remembered her just earlier.

Indie tried to move, but she was stuck in place watching the scene as it repeated like a broken record in her mind. 

The dreaded nightmare plagued her as she slept, herself tossing and turning, sweat forming in her brow.

The little girl rushed over to the older woman, arms raised in a beckon for her mother to carry her. Hearty chuckles and sweet giggles filled the room, the little girl being twirled in the air by her mother.

"I love you, mommy!"

"I love you too, my little lion."

Shooting out of bed, Indie breathed heavily, her heart thudding fast in her chest, eager to escape it's confines. She hadn't had a memory resurface in a long time. Tears of disbelief flowed freely down her cheeks as she ran a hand through her hair.

The sun was still out, its rays shining inside the open room. It was bright, casting large shadows behind Indie. Wiping her face off the oppressive tears, Indie stood from her bed and went down for food. Her stomach was rumbling, urging her take in some sustenance for herself.

The short hallway was bright with the streaming light, much like her own room. It was silent, just as it had been earlier, last night, yesterday, the day before yesterday, and the days and years before that.

Her eyes roamed around the whole hallway; the way it opened to an open living and dining room plan, the large windows slightly open with billowing white curtains, the smooth mahogany dining table with a glass top, the cream and black leather couches, and the glass coffee table, before finally landing on her father's prone figure.

A small smile graced her lips, her eyes solely on her father. He really is tired. Something churned in her stomach, and it wasn't hunger. It was sadness, dread, and guilt. Sadness at seeing the obvious tiredness in his form. Dread as to what would happen next. And finally, guilt. Guilt for the stress he was now enduring to finish the case. Oh, dad.

Sighing, she forced herself onward to the kitchen to fix herself something to eat. Rummaging through the fridge, she took out some ingredients and prepared herself a simple sandwich. Briefly, she wondered if her father had eaten, shaking her head and dismissing the thought as soon as it came. He needs his rest. He can eat later when he wakes. For now, sleep is more important.

Indie bit on her sandwich, her mind slowly coming back to life. The mental gears were now turning, and as she bit into her sandwich again, facts, testimonies, and alibis were whirring - going faster by the minute. Jessie left Emily's house that morning, presumably to go to her boyfriend's house. Then Allie, has a history with both Jessie and her ex, most likely to do with drugs. Aiden is Eric's best friend, and I still need to talk to him. Same with Kaiden and Eric... this is such a mess.

Groaning, Indie finished her sandwich and headed off to the backyard where the sun loungers were placed in random spots. Seating herself, she began to arrange and rearrange her thoughts about the whole case. Everything she deemed important was filed and stored in her own large mental library, while other useless facts where placed into a recycling storage for future possible use.

Her eyes were closed as she worked with her mental sorting, the sun shining directly on her face. Everything around her was calm. Like something unrealistic; from a movie she had seen long ago. The wind was silent, the birds flying overhead were equally silent. As if in reverence to that afternoon.

Her mind was still on the case, separated from her body that lay still on the sun lounger. Her breathes were steady, calm, as if nothing could disturb her. And nothing could. A loud ticking noise sounded from afar. Like the sound of the old grandfather clock they had years prior. An ominous warning. A sly, dangerous reminder that time was running out. It's ominous sound disrupted her train of thought, bludgeoning her away from her trail. A slight hitch in her breathing, and she was awake. Tick, tock.

Her phone beeped as she moved to grab it. A frown marring her features slightly as she thought who the sender might be. Her frown deepened at the site of an unknown number. The loud sound of her father's footsteps slowly began to die down, he had already headed outside before her. Picking her phone up, she began to read the message, her heart thudding loudly in her chest.

Unknown number

Tick. Tock.
.
.
.
Your time is running out.

The sinister message still sent a shiver down her spine, even hours after she had read the message. Just the mere thought of it sent dread pooling in her stomach. It was too strange and ominous to be coincidence. Whoever sent his knew I was on the case.

Something about the message held a warning, her lips pursed as her thoughts deepened, like a knotted rope slowly tightening against her neck. It felt like she was playing hangman, except she was the hangman. A sudden coldness spread throughout her body, her palms taking on a bluish tinge as if she had lost blood all of a sudden.

"Indie?" Her father's worried voice broke her away from her reverie. She turned, seeing his face pop out of the door, a relieved look replacing his earlier worried feeling. Indie smiled in what she hoped was reassuring. And when he smiled back, she felt like she could breath freely. Relief.

Loud crunching sounds against pebbled ground reached her ears, John's booted feet creating these sounds as he walked toward his daughter. He was still feeling tired, but not as lethargic or fatigued as earlier. His ironed shirt was crumpled from sleep, his hair unruly. But Indie didn't mind as she gazed at her father with a small smile.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly, her eyes still on his form, following his movement as he moved to sit on the lounge chair opposite hers.

John met his daughter's eyes with a small smile of his own, albeit more exhausted and less cheery. "Better."

A pregnant pause settled between the two. Each absorbed in their own thoughts. Indie tried to decipher her father's thoughts, to no avail. Worry bubbled in her stomach like a wretched potion, threatening to spill and burn her with its slosh. A large lump formed in her throat, blocking the words she wanted to voice.

Lucky for her, her father had some thing on his mind he needed to say. "Jessie's case has been caught in another standstill. So far, we don't have any new leads. Any luck on your side of the trail?" He was hoping for something good on her end, but with the complexities of the case, it seemed impossible.

Indie inwardly let out a breath of relief, the lump slowly dislodging from her throat; the bubbling cauldron of worry slowing down to a dull simmer. So he was thinking about the case then... thank you to whoever it is that rules the universe. The past is still safely tucked away. "I'm also on a standstill unfortunately. I feel like I'm wading through a thick sludge of quicksand and lies, which is also filled with holes. Not the best description, but that's how I feel."

John nodded, a slight frown marring his features. His eyes were brimming with different emotions; worry for his child, uncertainty for both their future and that of Jessie's case, and a hidden sorrow threatening to consume him. His brain was muddled, like a fog had taken residence in his once clear, sharp mind.

"Well, it seems like this case has taken a great toll on us that we never expected before." He paused, eyes searching Indie's face, noting the dark circles, protruding cheek bones and overall sullen look that she tried to hide. What have I dragged her into? He sighed, regret filling his being. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this Indie, I shouldn't-"

Indie cut in, her tone sharp. "No. It wasn't your fault." A deep breath, "I chose to help. Hell, I even went out the moment they called you. Even if I knew you didn't want me to. I chose this. I dug this hole for myself. So don't blame yourself." Her green eyes bore into his, green battling green. "I wanted to help, even if I'm not a real detective like Sherlock or you." The last words escaped her in a whisper, her eyes not meeting his.

Silence reigned on them both once again, only this time it wasn't comfortable. Indie's words and hidden emotions hung in the air between them. Both silent, gauging the other's reaction.

A loud beep broke the silence, Indie looked up at her father who was simply staring at her with worry and sadness in his evergreen eyes. Picking her phone, she hastened to read the message. A part of her hoping it wasn't the mysterious texter, and another, small part of her, hoping that it was.

Relief and disappointment both flooded her at once as she silently read the text.

From: Nico

Game tomorrow.
4pm, Atlas Stadium.
be there!

At least it wasn't another ominous warning. She thought wryly.

***

Author's Note:

Hey Investigators!
Before you start throwing your knives, daggers and whatever sharp objects you might have, or shooting me with guns... I have a good reason for not updating.

As you all know, school has already started for me. So, I've been really busy with so many things right now, such as projects, homework, quizzes and studies in general. I will continue updating, whenever I have free time. And that's a promise.

Who do you think the mysterious texter is?

Are you guys excited for the game? Do you think we'll meet new characters? If so, who do you think it will be?

Please don't forget to comment your thoughts, vote if your enjoyed the chapter, and share with your friends so they can join us in our little adventure.

Have a great day/night investigators!

M. J. Lee