"So any positive update?" An anxious Mike asked, talking to a man who was dressed in a black suit.
The man is actually a private detective named James that Mike had hired to help find his missing fiancee, Ella.
Both men were seated at a table outside a coffee shop with two steamy cups of coffee on their table.
"I am sorry Mr Noah but there are still no signs or cues on where your fiancee might be or what has happened to her. I have been keeping my eyes on her profile and data and she hasn't used any of her credit cards or made any phone calls either," the detective said softly but worriedly.
"What are you trying to say?" It was clear Mike's anxiety was on a high.
Letting out a low, frustrated sigh. "I don't know for certain but from all evidences I have been able to gather so far it's pointing to the fact that your fiancee might just be dea..."
"Don't," Mike cut him short before the detective could finish his statement. His grief was evident in his face.
"Don't you say that out loud? Ella is alive and well and you are going to help me find her. Understood?" Mike said with a sense of determination and hope.
The detective let out a weak sigh as he believed it would be a futile effort if he continues with the search of Ella as he had come to the conclusion that she was dead already however since his client, Mike still have the belief that his fiancee was still alive the detective saw it fitting to give it one final go just to comfort his client, Mike.
"Alright I will try my best but I think I will have to change my approach. Since I have not been able to make any progress using technology and science I will have to do it the old fashion way," detective James said, piquing Mike's curiosity.
"Which is?" He asked.
"I will have to interrogate every and anyone who shares a connection with her. This would be a long method but it's the final and only chance we have now to find your fiancee or to know what happened to her," he said and Mike nodded attentively.
"I would be needing your help in this," Detective James further added.
"Whatever you need me to do I will willingly do if it would help bring back Ella. Just tell me what you want from me and I will do it," Mike said with eagerness.
"Good. I will need a list of your fiancee's close friends and also relatives."
"Alright I will do that as soon as possible but is that all?" Mike said and it was evident he wanted to help out as much as possible.
"We will be starting from there but if need be we will have to widen the list up to all her associates and even acquaintances," the detective said....
I couldn't understand the rhythm of my heart beat but I knew it was beating abnormally fast like a speeding train. How in hell can Marcel's painting be exactly the same image I saw in my dream? This just doesn't make any sense as this was the first time I am seeing the painting so I couldn't have possibly dreamt about it! Thinking of it now; it doesn't feel like it was a dream. It actually felt like the image in the painting was actually in my room and on my bed last night and I didn't just imagine or dream about it.
I was still trying to make sense of the painting and what transpired last night when a cold deep voice rang in my ears from behind like the voice of Death, sending wave of cold shivers running down my spine and I felt my feet froze to the floor rendering me motionless but then like the sweet, cool wind of the sea a fragrant scent blow into my noise, making me feel light from within and easing the tension in my feet.
I could never mistake this sweet, familiar intoxicating scent- the smell of fine lavender and chamomile. That's Marcel's scent, however it had some similarities with the scent of last night though the scent of last night had this nature and darkness about it that I really can't explain….
Turning around, I stood facing him and I could see a little frown itching on his face and he was oozing out this dangerous energy with just the way he stood staring at me and that was causing my heart to beat extra faster.
"What are you doing here?" He asked again, maintaining his harsh tone while taking some steps closer to me.
"I..I.." I tried to explain but couldn't find my voice as my eyes were just fixed on him. I could only take a few steps back.
"Do you think this is your house and you are free to enter anywhere and touch anything without permission?" He said, laying emphasis to the last part as his eyes went to the uncovered painting with his expression further hardening to a tighter frown.
"I..I am sorry," I stammered and my heart literally stopped breathing out of fear when he approved me dangerously close.
I thought he wanted to hit me but instead he yanked the white cloth that was used to cover the painting from my hand and dressed the painting with it once more.
"You are not permitted to be in here when I am not around and you are definitely not permitted to tamper with my work," his tone was harsh and unforgiving and his stares were cold.
"I am truly sorry. I didn't mean to trespass," I apologized genuinely, fidgeting.
"Why are you here?" He asked and I could tell he wanted me to leave and with his hostile demeanor and unwelcoming attitude I wanted nothing else than to stay away from him right now.
However I remembered I came here for a purpose and that I needed his help but I seriously doubt he would want to help me now as he is evidently upset with me. Still I knew I had to give it a try.
"I..I actually came to talk to you about something," I said softly and I really didn't like the way I was stammering but I couldn't help myself. He was making me look so small and unimportant.
"And what's that?" He asked, his voice echoing his impatience.
"Be quick, I do not have time to waste," he further added when I was still trying to compose myself.
His impatience attitude only made me more anxious and nervous and I found myself finding it hard to compose the words to speak.
"Well..I...I just. I mean.." I was disjointed and from his facial expressions I could tell he was starting to get irritated.
Come on Ella, get your shit together! I had to motivate myself.
"What I mean to say is that I want to thank you for your hospitality- keeping me safe under your roof all these days but the lack of activities has rendered my stay here boring and torturing," I took a brief pause to check if he was following up with what I was saying and from his expression I could tell he was so I continued.
"So I want to make a request that you allow me to participate in the house chores. I would really appreciate it if my request is granted," I ended with a low nervous breath.
There was a brief silence before...
"Did you come here just to insult me?" His question left me puzzled and unsettled.
"What? I don't understand," I said, seeking clarification.
"Are you implying that I don't know how to take care of my home and that I need your help?" He said and he sounded and looked annoyed.
"What? No, no, no. That's not what I am saying at all. How can I imply such when your staff are doing a great job in keeping your home clean and operative?" I quickly explained myself.
"I am glad you know they are doing a fantastic job and I think you have already answered your question. I have more than enough qualified servants to take care of my property so your services aren't needed," he said and I felt so empty and weak but I couldn't give up at least not yet.
"I am not asking for you to employ me. I just want something to keep me busy than just staying alone in my room doing nothing. Please I beg you don't deny me this request," I said and every single word came out from deep within my heart.
Marcel went silent for a few seconds and I feared he would deny me my request once more however.
"Alright.." he said and I was overwhelmed by happiness.
"Thank you. Thank you so much!" I didn't even realize when I jumped on him, embracing him tightly.
"What are you doing?" He said and he had an expression I really couldn't decipher but it made me self conscious.
"I am so sorry," I quickly retreated and composed myself however I couldn't help but feel like a fool.
Why in hell's name did I do that?
"I am not done," he said as he wore a calm expression.
"If you are to help with the house chores in my house then it means you will be ready to serve me when I need your attention. This is my condition. Is that accepted?" He said and my throat suddenly went dry, causing me to forcefully swallow.
"Yes, I accept." Almost immediately the words left my lips. I knew I was going to regret it.
"Good then. Now if you don't mind I would like to be left alone," he said and I knew it was my cue to leave.
However I still had some unanswered questions in my mind concerning that painting and its connection with what happened in my room last night but I knew now wasn't the right time to ask so I left his room...