Oh Death (Chapter Two)

Rick scraped the gooey remains of his pancakes onto his fork. The path from plate to mouth was precarious, as he raised the syrup-laden utensil upwards with his prize. But he was victorious, slapping the silverware back down to the table and celebrating with a fist-pump and a dribble of sticky remnants plastered to the corner of his mouth.

Alice said dryly, "sexy." She unfolded her napkin and tossed it at the man's face to muffle his mumbled "you-know-it!" Digging dutifully around in her purse as Rick wiped away his leftovers, she raised a hand to call over the waitress and ask for the check.

"So," he said as Alice stuffed the corner pocket of the billfold, "did the crazy old lady have anything to say?" 

She waited for the waitress to wander away again before replying. "It's probably not wise to bash the resident psychic. But yes, she was able to confirm our suspicions. Our suspect is some kind of nut who believes in mystic powers, what have you. So his motivations are probably occult."

Her partner eased himself back in his seat, lips pressing together to muffle a belch. "What I can't figure is why the guy would pull some kid off the edge of a quaint suburb and bring him all the way out here. Wouldn't it be easier to pick off one of the locals?"

Alice poked at her salad with decidedly less vigor, idly moving a cherry tomato around the rim of her bowl. Repeatedly she let it roll to the center of the slightly browned lettuce, coaxing it back up with her unused spoon. "Notoriety maybe? Parents tend to raise more of a fuss when they live in a sprawling three-story and drive a BMW." Her spoon flicked up to point at Rick, and she squinted one eye shut. "Though I did learn something from Madame Zyra about mommy dearest."

Rick's brows rose at the gesture, and he went comically cross-eyed, blue irises pointed inwards towards his nose. Alice reached out and nonchalantly hung the spoon off its tip. "Apparently she went in for a consultation to hear the voice of her son. From the..." She wiggled her fingers and let her voice drip with ridiculous amounts of vibrato. "Beyoooooond."

Plucking the spoon back off of his nose, Rick went from goofy to all-serious in about a second. "You think the perp targeted the kid because his mother was into that s**t?"

"Anything's possible. I've gone on looser evidence before. I'm thinking a conversation or two with the grieving mother might not be such a bad idea, since she failed to mention her general palm-reading habits previously."

Rick opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by someone abruptly bumping into their table. The flower-checkered cloth jerked erratically, and the dishes rattled. Alice let out a shout as she groped in futility for the salad bowl, but it careened away and shattered into tiny pieces, scattering broken pottery and leafy debris every which way. 

"You dumba-" she jerked her head up, only to see the klutzy culprit making a break for it out the door. She moved to stand, but felt Rick's steadying hand wrap around her wrist. "Not worth it, partner. Besides, we have work to do."

Frustrated, Alice made a mental note of the man's general height: little over six foot, probably just even without shoes. Crew-cut dark hair, black. As he turned the corner it was all she could make out. She flopped down in her chair and muttered crossly, "people have no cooth around here."

Rick just shrugged, slurping the rest of his water noisily through his straw. "Whatever. C'mon, let's go visit the honorary mother of the corpse." He stood up and gave her arm a brief tug, before trudging to the door.

Reviews

[Crusty Pizza Stain]

Not too shabby....I think the dialogue is pretty good. Sometimes I think the detail gets too heavy for me, but I said that already. I guess it might just be my opinion or preference.