Suggested Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1w0UcJYzYZw
10:50 AM. By the time I returned to the receptionist office, the woman had left. I shouldn't be surprised; it's not like she was going to wait for me, after all. The receptionist is still behind the counter, head held in his hands and giving off an aura of murky stress. Figuring he'll be able to point me in the right direction, I walk up to him. "Hey, was there a woman in here a few minutes ago?"
I ask, the man flinching at my sudden confrontation. "Y-yeah… unfortunately…" He replies, his eyes breaking contact with mine in a gloomy spectacle.
I can't help but tilt my head at his show of melancholy. "I see… are you alright?" I ask, causing the man to focus his glazed gaze back on me.
"O-oh I'm fine… it's just… she's a real jerk!" He huffs defiantly, his tone growing sharply. "She comes in every month just to… to... criticize everything and everyone around her!" He complains, a take I certainly didn't expect.
"So is she-" I begin to ask, the man preemptively answering.
"Health Inspector. It's so dumb! Out of all the people to give that job to, they chose…" He starts, going on a rant about who knows what. I had spaced out around this point, my clue-deprived mind busy mulling over this new information.
A health inspector? She picked a poor day for a checkup! Maybe someone knew she was coming today, and planned their scheme around it? Although a tad farfetched, it's entirely possible... "Right, right… do you know where she went?" I interrupt the man, who stops his one-way conversation and shoots a look my way.
"Huh? She went to production. Anyway…" He replies, jamming his finger at the doors behind him before getting right back to ranting. I give a nod and walk off, leaving the man to his venting. As much as I would love to stay and chat with him, somethings telling me that I have better things to do with my time.
As I enter the doors he pointed at, I'm struck with the glamorous sight before me. Magical titans of silver machinery dot the open, sunlight chamber in a confusing, yet organized design. A highway of conveyer belts connects each machine, crissing and crossing over one another. Teams of workers huddle around each device, trying to figure out what went wrong… It's a whirlwind of action! And in the center of it all, I see her.
The health inspector was a lot taller than how she looked on the cameras, with long blonde hair and a pair of aqua sunglasses resting her head. She wore very professional clothing: a casual black and white two-piece her which stood out from the sea of industrial-uniformed workers. In one hand was a brown clipboard with a white paper clipped to it, and her other hand held a scribbling pencil. Taking initiative, I walk up to her in hopes of asking some questions.
"This fermenter isn't up to date, and the conveyer belts move too fast." She stated to nobody in particular, writing down something on the clipboard. "The doors are two inches too short, the transport isn't properly oiled, and the workers hardly follow protocol… like you!" She suddenly snaps her head my way, pointing her pencil tip at me in a threateningly. It was mere inches from poking my eye out! "Where's your uniform?" She asks me demandingly. Of course, I don't have a uniform because… I don't work here! I try to calmly explain this to her… here's how it went.
"S-sorry ma'am but I don-"
"I mean just LOOK at you! Don't you know that trench coats are against the dress code?"
"I don't think you understa-"
"And is that a mug you're holding? Open drinks are strictly forbidden during working hours!"
"If you would just liste-"
"And a hat? Seriously? Get that thing off of your hea-" She commands, reaching out for my fedora to take it off. But before she could grab it or even finish her sentence, a hand reaches up and grabs her wrist. My hand.
"Ma'am. I. Don't. Work. Here!" I explain, annunciating each word with more and more energy. Where did this sudden aggression of mine come from? Well, she tried to take my hat! Nobody touches my Great-Grandads Fedora but me, it's an heirloom for crying out loud!
The woman scoffs at my defiance and quickly pulls her hand out of mine. "How DARE you touch me AND lie to my face!" She accuses dramatically, glaring at me with a cold gaze. "If you don't work here, then what's THAT?" She asks, a voice filled with rage as she jabs the eraser of her pencil at the ID badge on my collar. I forgot all about that!
"It's an ID badge, it was given to me by-" I try and answer her question, before a familiar voice cuts me off.
"Mr Opal! How's the investigation going?" An aged voice asks from behind the inspector. Mr. Brew was here! His sudden appearance made the health inspector jump back, nearly trampling me in the process. I tip my hat in respect and respond, glad that someone came in to disrupt the situation.
"It's going good sir. I've found a little bit of evidence, but still got a while to go!" I smile, prompting him to return the grin. You know who wasn't smiling? The health inspector.
"D-don't scare me like that! W-wait, investigation? Y-you mean.." She stammers, clearly caught off guard by Mr. Brew.
"Oh, you two haven't met, have you?" He asks, walking up to come in between us. "Mr. Opal this is the health inspector: Sammy Vanquez. Ms. Vanquez, this is Tanta Opal: The detective leading the investigation." Mr. Brew acquaints us both. I try giving Ms. Vanquez a smile, but she shoots me yet another glare.
"Don't call me Sammy." She states in an annoyed pout, turning around and storming off to another part of the factory.
"Ah… don't mind her, she's probably just having a bad day." Mr. Brew assures me, a guess I find amusing.
"Does she ever have any… good days?" I ask, Mr. Brew giving a small laugh as a reply.
"Oh I'm sure she does… She doesn't like coming here, but her job demands it… anyway, I printed this off for you, thought you might be able to use it." Mr. Brew explained, handing me a packet of stapled paper.
On it was a detailed list of the companies weekly expenses, providing info on the cost and date of imported coffee beans, paychecks, and even smaller ventures like gas! I'm not too sure how useful this will be, but evidence is evidence! I take out the case folder I had brought with me and place the packet inside, planning to study it later. "Thank you!" I happily thank him, hoping that this new info could get me somewhere.
"Oh, it's no problem. I'll let you get back to it." Mr. Brew replies, walking past me and heading into the receptionist. I take a good look around me, and decide that I'm not gonna find much of use in this part of the factory. (Admittedly half the reason I came in here was to smell coffee, but that's been thrown out the window…) This is the biggest part of the factory, as well as the busiest! To try and search it for clues would sadly be a waste of time… Taking a look at my miniature map, I decide that receiving is a good place to look next. I take one more look around the majestic, yet injured production room before heading off, filled with a sort of newfound determination to get to the bottom of this mystery.
Opening the doors to the receiving bay, I'm greeted to a bleak, grey sky. The clouds were debating if they wanted to rain or not, making for a surprisingly relaxing atmosphere. The bay was mostly barren at this hour, nothing but a pile of crates and a single delivery van in sight. A man sat in the drivers seat, a phone to his ear. He was writing something down on a small scrap of paper, though I couldn't see what it was. His window was down, so I decide to approach.
"Y-yeah, I got it written down. I'll get to it once I'm done here…" The man talks to the phone, not noticing me as I come closer. He was in his teens, his rounded face home to a pair of seeing glasses and a sea of acne. His hair was brown and largely unkept, haphazardly combed to the side in a futile attempt to control it. I come up to the window and tap on the door to get his attention. He looks up at me surprised that someone was here! "I-I have to call you back." He whispers into the phone before hanging up and directing his attention to me. "C-can I help you, sir?" He asks, slipping the phone into his pocket
. "Hey, I'm Tanta Opal, detective." I reply, the boy straightening his posture as I do so.
"O-oh! It's nice to meet you… I'm Randy, not… a detective." He timidly introduces himself, clearly a little jolted from hearing about my profession. "A-are you here about the whole… tea thing?" Randy assumes. Seems that he's more 'in the know' than Cole was!
"You guessed it! So, where is everyone?" I ask, trying to be easygoing and soft on the nervous wreck before me.
"W-well they're still out, of course! I… I have the shortest route." He explains, scratching some acne on his cheek.
"Right, right. You don't mind if I take a look around your truck, do you?" I ask, deciding to see how he would react. It might just be the puberty, but something about Randy seems suspicious… Randy tenses up at my request and goes quiet for a few moments.
"W-well… I… I guess that's f-fine…" He stutters, opening the door and climbing out on the vehicle. Curious, I stick my head inside.
Randy's truck is very… personalized, to say the least. A hula lady on the dash, a pair of red fuzzy dice on the rearview, a pack of gum in the cupholder. I look back to Randy, whose face goes red as I rummage through his things. Honestly, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. If I had a car, I'd totally deck it out! I check the glovebox, but there's just paperwork inside. As I exit the vehicle, I quickly snatch the paper slip Randy was writing on before I arrived and close the door behind me. On it is a phone number and address, which catches my interest heavily.
"So… Randy, what's this for?" I ask, flashing the slip at him.
"O-oh that! That's for… uh… um… w-well…" He stammers, his face starting to glow a faint red. "It's for a date! Y-yeah…" He blurts out, his cheeks turning a bright pink. My eyes widen from his reply, now that I didn't expect!
"O-oh! Well good for you…" I reply, handing him the paper back (which he proceeds to hastily stuff into his back pocket). That got a little personal for my liking… Back to the point! There was only one more thing I wanted to check before heading on my merry way. "Randy, you don't mind if I check the back, right?" I ask, not waiting for a reply as I start moving to the back of the truck.
"W-w-w-wait!" Randy suddenly exclaims, running after me and grabbing my shoulder. "Y-you don't wanna do that!" He warns, a look of terror on his face. Well now I GOTTA know!
"And… why's that?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Randy realizes that he's made a huge mistake, and takes his hand off of me. "W-well it's just… um…" He starts, but a loud metallic CREEEEEAK cuts him off as I lift open the shutter to the back of the van. And what I saw shocked me to my very core… crates!
Wait… that's it? I had expected something more, but all that was here were crates! There was about 10 in all, arranged in a two-by-five grid. "S-see? There's just crates!" Randy nervously smiles, shaking all over. Yeah… something was off… but I guess it's just Randy? I start closing the back, but something catches my eye. One of the boxes in the front...it's open! I stop closing the shutter and reach for the box, dragging it forward and removing the loose lid. I assumed they were just packages of the "coffee" mix, but what I saw made my hands go cold. It wasn't coffee… it wasn't even powder! Inside the crate were leaves…
Tea Leaves.