They approached the building, its façade a silent, unassuming testament to the secrets that lay within.
Reid, always one for theatricality, knocked on the door with a jaunty rhythm that was wholly out of place, each rap echoing into the stillness that weighed heavily on the small investigative party.
The door eased open, seemingly of its own accord, revealing Priscillia Hwang, the new cog in Diane's ever-churning machine. She was a striking woman, but the trio before her clearly threw her off balance. Her eyes went from Reid's charming smirk, to Archer's icy aloofness, to Alex's rugged but fatherly good looks.
"Good evening, Miss Hwang. You can call me Reid—Reid Greenfield," he flashed a grin, a finger slipping into his pocket to fish out an unofficial 'World's Best Detective' badge—a trinket from an old case.
Alex interrupted him, flashing his police ID with practiced efficiency. "Senior Investigator Alex Williams, this here's Archer. We're with the Serious Crime Unit."
Priscillia hesitated for a heartbeat before her hospitality instincts kicked in. "Please, come in," she gestured, the air inside swallowing them as they stepped into a living room where the abstract art on the walls seemed to challenge the laws of physics and aesthetics both.
"Would you like some tea?" Priscillia offered, already pouring hot water into a posh china set that probably cost more than Reid's monthly rent.
"Splendid! Tea always gets the detective juices flowing, doesn't it?" Reid replied, deliberately choosing a seat that gave him a full view of the room and its curious accoutrements.
Priscillia served them with a noticeable but forgivable tremor in her hands. "Is this about Diane's old assistant? The one who's...no longer with us?"
Alex leaned forward, his leather jacket creaking slightly, and locked eyes with Priscillia. "Yes. And how did you end up in this saga? What's it like, working for Diane?"
"She's strict, but in a fair way. I've been comfortable working with her," Priscillia maintained eye contact, even as she spoke the words.
"Anything odd happen around here recently?" Alex continued.
Priscillia shook her head, "Nothing out of the ordinary, no."
"What did you talk to Diane about right before the lunch?"
"I told her that she had to end her lunch by 6pm as she had a dinner appointment right after…" Priscillia paused before continuing, "and that the driver will come round to pick her up with the attire I have prepared for her."
Just as Alex was about to delve into another line of questioning, Reid interjected, his voice silkily sinister, "Priscillia, tell us about Vanessa. What's the scoop there?"
The unexpected query unsettled her. "Vanessa? I never met her. Diane mentioned her in passing. Said she was from a troubled family or something. Whenever she talks about her, it's like she's wrestling with some inner turmoil."
Intrigued, Alex cut back in. "Any of Vanessa's things left behind? Personal effects, maybe?"
Priscillia looked genuinely puzzled this time. "No, which is strange given how abruptly she was let go. You'd expect some residue—literal or metaphorical."
"Nothing? Even in work?"
Priscillia shook her head and threw her hands up, "nothing. Every single work stuff was documented well and I had no issues when I just started."
Reid, tapping a rhythm on his knee, seemed lost in a psychological labyrinth only he could navigate. It was Archer who broke the silence, a rarity. "What's one thing Diane couldn't stand? If you had to guess."
Pondering the question, Priscillia finally offered, "It would probably be anything money related. She's incredibly materialistic."
"Had she gotten angry or out of character because of money issues before?" Reid perked up.
"Hmm," Priscillia leaned back slightly, "if I had to pinpoint an incident, there was once I gave a waiter a tip with the business card. It was well justified since the waiter went out of his way to make concessions for us. However, when Diane heard about it, she had snapped at me for not discussing it with her."
"Strange."
Priscillia looked up to Reid before shaking her head, "not really, no. This isn't my first job as an assistant. Some bosses tend to be pickier when it comes to these things as it may not reflect well when it comes to audit."
"But you mentioned it to us… meaning that you thought it was indeed out of character."
"Well," the lady sighed, "Diane had always been strict in money issues - even once when I had accidentally made a wrong transfer, she did not snap at me. It was kind of weird she snapped at me for giving a tip."
Reid's lips slowly curled into a knowing smile, the gears in his brain clicking into place like a completed Rubik's cube. "Priscillia, your candor has been illuminating, to say the least."
As they all stood, ready to leave this nest of subdued tension, Reid turned back toward Priscillia, his eyes glittering with mischief. "Ever think about job-hunting?"
Confused, Priscillia answered, "I just started this one."
With a wink and a cryptic, "Keep your eyes open," Reid led the way out.
As they returned to the street, bathed in the ethereal glow of the streetlights, each man seemed absorbed in his own whirlpool of thoughts. Alex turned to Reid, skepticism etched onto his features. "Where to next?"
Reid only shrugged, his eyes twinkling like a child who'd discovered a secret passage. "Time to visit some older folks?"
Archer met Reid's eyes, and in that moment, an entire conversation passed between them without a single word uttered.
"Who?" Alex scratched his head.
"Vanessa's uncle."
***
The car's engine hummed a low, monotonous tune as Archer maneuvered through the labyrinthine streets leading to the outskirts of Solaris City. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a surgeon's precision, every movement calculated and unyielding. Beside him, Reid Greenfield tapped an erratic drum solo against the car's windowsill, his fingers dancing to a rhythm only he could hear.
Cramped in the backseat, Alex Williams rolled his eyes, his nerves already frayed. He flicked his wrist, pulling up the holographic screen of his communicator. A few more swipes, and he transferred the data he'd been scrutinizing to his phone.
"Vanessa Lringa," Alex began, the rasp in his voice belying his irritation. "28. She's an Ability user. Parents passed on when she was young, raised by her Uncle Jem out in the sticks. They were dirt poor until Vanessa got smart—like, scholarship-to-local-university smart. That's when they moved here to good ol' Solaris. But don't let the city lights fool you; they were still scraping by. The house they're living in? Vanessa bought it when she started working. Met her employer Diane at some charity ball."
Reid stopped his rhythmic drumming, arching a single brow. "Interesting rags-to-moderate-riches story. Anything on what her Ability might be?"
Alex shot him an irritable look. "You think the government's handing out Ability intel like candy? Fat chance."
Archer's eyes shifted toward the rearview mirror. For the first time since they started this journey, he spoke, a tone as cold as the look he typically gave. "Shouldn't the police be privy to that information for operational efficiency?"
Alex huffed, scratching his beard, a gesture Reid recognized as his 'exasperated dad' mode. "Look, it's more complicated than that. The government has a leash on Ability information. If they think we can't handle it, they've got their own special task force. We become either their bait or backup. That's the rulebook."
Reid caught Archer's micro-frown through the rearview mirror. "Ah, Archer. Welcome to the paradox of the law enforcement. The government's so shady about Abilities, you'd think they were hoarding state secrets."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Come on, both of didn't spill about getting double Abilities when you were Blessed. That's because you know that the government would have done something to you two."
Archer's glare could've melted glass. Alex got the hint, performing an exaggerated pantomime of zipping his lips shut.
Reid burst into laughter. "Oh, don't worry too much, Archer. Remember that time I asked Ellen to tweak our communicators? I asked her to tweak Alex's too. The audio's one-way now. The government won't be getting intel on our Abilities and be able to tap into our conversations this way."
Alex shrugged lazily, going back to this information he was scrolling by on his phone. Reid just winked, his eyes twinkling like a cat who'd managed to snatch the canary, lock, stock, and barrel.
Archer let out a relieved sigh before focusing on the road in front of him.
As they pulled up to a nondescript house, the setting sun dipped below the horizon, as if retreating from the complications the night was sure to bring.
The car engine sputtered to silence and the three got out of the car.
Reid Greenfield sauntered up to the weathered wooden door, his usual smirk replaced by a look of calculated sobriety. He rapped his knuckles against the door, summoning an immediate chorus of barks from the other side. The barks ceased as the shuffle of approaching footsteps became audible. Finally, the door creaked open, revealing an elderly man with salt-and-pepper hair and leathery skin etched with a lifetime of hard work and sorrow.
"Good afternoon, sir. You must be Uncle Jem," Reid said, adopting an uncharacteristically polite tone. "I'm Reid Greenfield, a friend of Vanessa's. We were passing back and I remembered that Vanessa mentioned her favourite uncle stayed here so we wanted to say hi."
Uncle Jem's face broke into a warm, relieved smile. "A friend of Nessie's, you say? That's rare. She's been so busy lately, never brings anyone around." He stepped aside, allowing Reid and his less-than-talkative companion, Archer Everett, and more-than-talkative companion, Alex Williams, to enter.
Then Uncle Jem commented, "and favourite uncle, bah! I'm her only uncle."
They found themselves in a living room that was both quaint and dated, a physical manifestation of years gone by. A crocheted blanket was thrown haphazardly over a worn-out couch, and faded family photos lined the wooden mantel over a stone fireplace that hadn't seen a flame in years. It was the kind of room that hid more stories than most novels.
Uncle Jem gestured toward the coffee table laden with a tea set that looked like it had been in the family for generations. "Tea, anyone?"
Reid accepted with enthusiasm, taking a whiff of the steam rising from his cup. "Ah, Earl Grey. A man of taste, I see."
Archer accepted a cup out of courtesy but let it sit, its contents untouched, his eyes scanning the room as though it were a crime scene. Alex, meanwhile, couldn't help but look overtly around the space, his eyes darting from one family photo to another as if he were mentally cataloging them.
Uncle Jem's eyes followed Alex's movements, his eyebrows knitting in mild concern. "Your friend seems awfully curious about my home."
Reid leaned in, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, don't mind Alex. He's basically a rude little kid with a crush on Vanessa, trying to dig up some good gossip, you know?"
Alex heard it and threw a glare at Reid who ignored it with a grin.
Uncle Jem's eyes twinkled as if illuminated by an internal light of amusement. "Well, I must say, he's a step up from that last boyfriend of hers—Ray."
Reid's eyes flashed with curiosity, his grin widening. "Last boyfriend, you say? 'Used to'? I didn't know they broke up."
Uncle Jem sighed, the wrinkles deepening on his face as he remembered. "Huh? Then you hadn't talked to Nessie the past few months, have you? Well, Ray was a shifty fella. Seemed like he was only after Nessie for her looks, if you ask me."
Reid leaned back, sipping his tea thoughtfully. "And do you think he loved her, truly?"
Uncle Jem paused, his gaze losing focus as if he were scanning the archives of his memory. "You know, he did have this certain way of looking at her. A way that makes me think, perhaps, he did love her—deeply, even. Just like how my brother used to look at Nessie's mother."
Reid, having had exceptional observation skills, had been sneakily surveying the room's framed memories from the moment he stepped. His eyes alighting on a particular family portrait that had caught his attention the moment he walked in. "Speaking of family," he slid his question seamlessly into the conversation, "Who's the other little girl in that family photo over there?"
Uncle Jem looked over to where he was pointing and at the same, Alex had picked up the frame and was turning around, mouth slightly ajar, as if to ask a question. A twinkle from Reid's eyes mocked him.
Alex couldn't help but release a muffled grumble of annoyance. Just as he'd located the same photo and was about to make his inquiry, Reid had snatched his moment in the spotlight.
Uncle Jem's eyes followed Reid's gaze, landing on the photograph. A shadow seemed to cross his face, as though a cloud had momentarily obscured the sun. It was a simple question, but it seemed that Uncle Jem did not want to answer.
Uncle Jem sighed, picking up his own tea and sipped on it. Reid smiled a little before prompted, "hey, if you don't want to get into it, that's fine. Just a passing curiosity, you know? Vanessa's never mentioned having a childhood friend."
Uncle Jem sighed, swirling his tea absentmindedly before taking a cautious sip. "That's because she's not a friend. She's Vienne, Vanessa's twin sister."