Murmurs on the Mist, page 2
"Got it," I said, watching her every move.
"Now for iLeads," she said, switching programs with a few quick keystrokes. "iLeads is our incident management system. We use it for logging incidents and tracking case progress. Basically, we put in data for anyone and anything listed in the report sorted by case number."
She navigated through several menus until she reached a screen filled with fields waiting to be populated. "Here you'll enter details about incidents—date, time, location, description of what happened." She paused and looked at me. "Any questions so far?"
"Not yet," I said. "It seems manageable."
Kylie smiled again. "It can be overwhelming at first but trust me—you'll get the hang of it quickly." She handed me a stack of files similar to what Casie had given me earlier. "Why don't you start with these? I'll be right here if you need any help."
I took a deep breath and nodded, ready to dive in.
I sat at my new desk, fingers poised over the keyboard, staring at the stack of files before me. Each one held case reports, witness statements, and a plethora of other documents, all waiting to be digitized. With a sigh, I picked up the first file and opened it.
"Case number 4372," I mumbled to myself, typing it into the appropriate field in OnBase. The screen blinked back at me with an empty form, ready to be filled out.
Date: June 14, 2022.
Involved parties: James Thompson, Emma Raines.
Incident description: Minor traffic collision at Elm and Maple.
As I entered the details, I could feel the minutes dragging on like hours. Each keystroke felt like it echoed in the silent room. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, adding to the monotony. My eyes flitted to the clock on the wall—only fifteen minutes had passed since I'd started.
I reached for another file, my enthusiasm waning. The repetitive nature of the task was mind-numbing. Click, type, save. Click, type, save. Over and over again. I couldn't help but glance around at my new colleagues, all engrossed in their own tasks. Kylie was at her desk across from mine, tapping away at her keyboard with practiced ease.
"How's it going?" she asked without looking up from her screen.
"Just getting the hang of it," I replied, forcing a smile.
She glanced up and smiled sympathetically. "It gets easier."
I nodded and returned to my work. The next file detailed a noise complaint from Mrs. Jenkins about her neighbor's late-night parties. Another followed with a report on a stolen bicycle from a kid named Danny Wilson. Each case seemed more mundane than the last.
Time crawled by. The stack of files seemed endless, and each new report brought with it a fresh wave of boredom. My mind started to wander—thinking about what Agatha might be doing right now or how Cherry Blossom Bay looked under the afternoon sun.
But there was no escaping the task at hand. I had a job to do, even if it was mind-numbingly dull. So I took another deep breath and reached for yet another file.
Time had slipped through my fingers without me noticing. The stack of files on my desk had dwindled, but I was still deep in the monotony of data entry when Kylie’s voice pulled me back to reality.
“Did you want to take your lunch?” she asked.
I blinked, glancing at the clock on the wall. How had it already reached noon? “Oh,” I said, surprised. “Sure.”
She leaned against her chair, arms crossed. “I know you're off in a few hours, so you need to take it soon,” she added.
“Thanks for the heads up,” I replied, standing and stretching my stiff muscles. “I guess I lost track of time.”
“You get thirty-five minutes,” she explained. “We have a break room down the hall where you can bring your lunch and leave it in the fridge, or you can go to the shopping center nearby. If you do go to the shopping center, though, just make sure you remove the uniform shirt.”
I nodded. “Got it. Thanks.”
Kylie gave me a quick smile before heading back to her desk, her fingers already flying over the keyboard again. I gathered my things and left the Records Department, stepping into the hallway.
The break room wasn’t hard to find—it was just past the conference rooms we’d walked by earlier. I pushed open the door and found a modest space with a couple of tables, a refrigerator humming in the corner, and a microwave perched on a counter next to a coffee machine.
I set my bag down on one of the tables and opened it up. I’d packed a simple sandwich and an apple this morning, not knowing what kind of facilities would be available. The room was empty except for me, which was a relief after hours of concentrated work in close quarters.
After grabbing a bottle of water from my bag, I took a seat at one of the tables. The quiet hum of the refrigerator and occasional footsteps outside were my only company as I unwrapped my lunch.
Taking a bite of my sandwich, I let myself relax for the first time since arriving that morning. The taste was bland—turkey on wheat—but comforting in its familiarity.
I thought about what Kylie had said about removing the uniform shirt if I went to the shopping center. It made sense; blending in was probably better than standing out in official-looking attire. Maybe tomorrow I'd venture out during lunch for a change of scenery.
Or maybe not.
As I sat in the break room, chewing on my sandwich, my eyes wandered around the space. The walls were decorated with various photographs and commendations, much like the hallways outside. One picture, in particular, caught my attention—a portrait of a man in a police uniform. I squinted at the small plaque beneath it: Chief Matthew Harding.
I got up and walked over to get a closer look. The photo showed a young man with a strong jawline and bright, determined eyes that seemed to pierce through the lens. His hair was spiky and golden. It was like staring into the piercing blue eyes of a ghost—there was an intensity and warmth that felt both welcoming and haunting.
I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as I looked at him. "What happened to you?" I murmured to myself.
The air seemed to thicken around me as I stood there, lost in thought. Seeing his face now made that story all too real. What Kitsune had lost. What he still lived with.
I found myself wondering what kind of chief he had been, what kind of person he was outside of his uniform. He raised Kitsune, from what Agatha said. How was as a father? How did Nathan handle it, especially since he worked here? Questions swirled in my mind as I continued to study the photograph.
Eventually, I shook myself out of my reverie and returned to my seat. The room felt different now, imbued with a weight I hadn't noticed before. As I finished my lunch, I couldn't shake the feeling that Chief Harding's presence still lingered here, in these walls and these halls, watching over Cherry Blossom Bay even after all these years.
I packed up my things and prepared to head back to the Records Department. The mundane task awaiting me felt slightly less daunting now; it was part of something bigger—a legacy that people like Chief Harding had built and others continued to uphold.
Taking one last glance at his picture, I whispered, "Rest easy." Then I stepped out into the hallway, ready to dive back into my work and hope time passed quickly.
Chapter 3
After my first day, I felt both exhausted and strangely exhilarated. The clock on the wall showed it was nearly time to leave when Agatha appeared at the doorway of the Records Department.
“Ready to go, kid?” She stood there, her presence as commanding as ever.
I nodded and started to take off my uniform shirt, folding it neatly before tucking it into a drawer by my desk. Left in a simple white t-shirt, I grabbed my bag and turned to face her.
“Yeah, I'm ready.”
Her eyes softened as she looked me over. “How was your first day?”
“Busy,” I said with a small smile. “But good. Everyone’s been really helpful.”
She nodded approvingly. “Good to hear. Let’s get you home.”
We walked through the station, passing officers and staff who seemed engrossed in their own worlds of paperwork and conversations. Stepping outside into the cool afternoon air felt like a breath of fresh life.
Agatha’s car was parked just outside, a sturdy sedan that had seen its fair share of miles. I slid into the passenger seat while she got behind the wheel.
As we drove through Cherry Blossom Bay, I glanced out the window at the familiar sights—quaint shops lining Main Street, people walking their dogs, kids playing in front yards. The town had a charm that was impossible to ignore.
“You did good today.” Agatha’s voice broke the silence. ‘I knew you would.”
“Thanks,” I replied, feeling a warmth spread through me. “It means a lot coming from you.”
She smiled briefly before focusing back on the road. “I’m proud of you for stepping up and taking this on.”
It wasn't long before we pulled up to her property. The cherry blossom trees swayed in the distance.
“I’ll drop you off here and head back to finish up some things,” she said as she put the car in park.
I opened the door and stepped out, taking a deep breath of the crisp evening air. “All right. Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem.” She leaned across the seat slightly, looking at me with those keen eyes of hers. “Get some rest tonight. Tomorrow’s another day.”
“I will,” I promised.
With that, I closed the car door and waved as she drove off back toward town. I stood there for a moment, watching her taillights disappear around the bend before turning to walk up to the cottage.
It was almost 4 PM, and I was bored out of my mind. The day had been a whirlwind, but now, sitting in the cottage, the quiet felt oppressive. I immediately changed out of my uniform, pulling on a light sundress and letting my hair free from the ponytail. I grabbed the second romance novel in the series I had been reading, hoping to lose myself in its pages, but my mind kept wandering.
I needed to do something. Anything.
I decided a bike ride might clear my head. Stepping out of the cottage, I felt the gentle warmth of the late afternoon sun on my skin. My bike leaned against the side of the house, waiting for me. I swung a leg over and started pedaling down the gravel path that led to the main road.
Cherry Blossom Bay unfurled before me as I rode through town. The place lived up to its name; cherry blossom trees lined the streets, their petals creating a soft pink carpet on the ground. The houses were quaint and colorful, each one unique with its own charm. White picket fences bordered lush gardens bursting with vibrant flowers.
The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from Sea Salt Bakery as I passed by. The shop had a small crowd gathered outside, folks chatting and laughing while they waited for their orders. Just across the street, Dog Days Diner was getting ready for its dinner rush.
I continued pedaling, heading towards the town square where a fountain gurgled softly at its center. Benches surrounded it, some occupied by people enjoying ice cream or reading books. The square buzzed with life but maintained an unhurried pace that felt comforting.
I turned down a side street and found myself in front of Cherry Blossom Bay’s small library. The building had ivy creeping up its brick walls and large windows that invited passersby to peek inside at rows upon rows of bookshelves. I wondered if Maru and Jeremiah were there. Knowing Maru, he was ready to close, even though he had another hour.
Pedaling further, I reached the edge of town where Cherry Blossom Park sprawled out in all its glory. Families picnicked on checkered blankets while children played tag among towering oak trees. A serene lake mirrored the sky above, dotted with ducks gliding across its surface.
As I rode along the winding paths of the park, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The rhythmic motion of pedaling and the sights and sounds of Cherry Blossom Bay were just what I needed to clear my head.
My eyes continued to search for him, hoping...
I didn't even know what I was hoping for. Maybe a glimpse of him through a window, maybe nothing at all. I turned my bike around and started pedaling back toward the center of town, slowing down as I passed Kitsune Investigations. The building looked as still and nondescript as ever. Was he inside? I couldn't tell.
My chest ached, a dull throb that seemed to deepen with every turn of the pedals. I hated the way things were right now between us. It felt like a wall had sprung up between us, one that neither of us knew how to scale.
I pedaled away from his office, feeling the weight of frustration settling on my shoulders. I wanted to fix things, to find a way back to the easy camaraderie we once had. To work with him again. But how could I do that when he wouldn't even let me be a part of what mattered most to him?
The wind picked up slightly, rustling the leaves of the cherry blossom trees overhead. The petals floated down like confetti, beautiful but fleeting. Just like moments with Kitsune seemed lately—there one minute and gone the next.
I decided to take a longer route home, weaving through streets lined with quaint houses and blooming gardens. The ride gave me time to think, though it didn't offer any solutions.
Maybe I needed to prove myself somehow. Show him that I could handle being part of his investigations without putting myself in danger. But how? He was so guarded, so determined to keep me out of harm's way that it felt impossible to get through to him.
As I rode past Sea Salt Bakery again, the smell of freshly baked bread made my stomach growl. Maybe a quick stop would help lift my spirits. Plus, it was on my way home.
I parked my bike outside and walked in, greeted by the warm aroma and friendly faces behind the counter.
“Piper! Long day?” Jenna called from behind the counter. She had been in the Miss Cherry Blossom Bay Competition and had been working the summer before college started.
“You could say that,” I replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
She handed me a loaf of sourdough wrapped in brown paper and a smoothie. “On the house today.”
“Thanks,” I said softly.
I walked out of Sea Salt Bakery, the warm bread and smoothie in hand. The day had been a whirlwind, and I was ready to relax. As I stepped onto the sidewalk, I didn’t see her coming. A sudden jolt sent the smoothie flying from my grip. It splattered all over my dress, the icy liquid soaking through the fabric and making me shriek.
"Watch where you're going," a familiar voice drawled.
I looked up, skin prickling with goosebumps from the shock of the cold drink. Standing before me was Macy, another former competitor in the pageant. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized me.
"Oh," she said with a smirk. "It's you."
I stood there, dripping and trying to process the situation. Macy's expression held a mixture of amusement and disdain. She stood before me, her presence commanding and undeniably striking. Her long, chestnut hair cascaded in perfect waves down her back, catching the light in a way that made it shimmer. She had flawless, sun-kissed skin and high cheekbones that framed her piercing blue eyes, which seemed to assess everything with a sharp, almost predatory focus. Dressed in a sleek, form-fitting blouse and designer jeans, she looked every bit the small-town beauty queen turned socialite. Even in the most casual setting, she carried herself with an air of elegance and superiority that was hard to ignore.
"Seriously?" I muttered, looking down at my now ruined dress.
Macy shrugged nonchalantly. "Accidents happen."
"Macy," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
She glanced at the mess on my dress and raised an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you a sight?"
Heat crept up my neck, more from embarrassment than anger. "It was an accident."
"Sure it was." She folded her arms across her chest, looking down her nose at me. "Seems like accidents follow you around."
I clenched my jaw, struggling to keep my composure. "What do you want, Macy?"
She shrugged, her smirk never wavering. "Just passing through. Didn't expect to see you here."
"Same here," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.
At that moment, the bell to the Dog Days Diner rang, and someone stepped out. I didn't even glance up until a shadow fell over me.
Kitsune.
His shock of white hair was as wild and untamed as ever, contrasting sharply with his dark attire. He wore a black jacket that hugged his lean frame and fitted pants that added an edge to his already enigmatic appearance. His eyes scanned the surroundings with a keen, almost predatory focus.
“Hey, Kenji,” Macy murmured, her voice dripping with familiarity as she laced her fingers with his.
My brain short-circuited. Was… was Kitsune on a date… with Macy? The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew they had history, but seeing them together like this felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me.
His other hand held a bag of takeout that seemed to be enough for two. He glanced down at Macy’s hand intertwined with his but didn’t pull away. Instead, he gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod.
“Rose,” he acknowledged me with a tilt of his head, those tired eyes now watching me carefully.
“K-Kitsune,” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat louder than the last.
Macy’s smirk grew wider as she looked between us. “Well, isn’t this cozy? I know you guys dated a couple of months ago, right?"
Technically, no. It was fake. We worked a case together. But she didn't need to know that.
Kitsune’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before he turned back to Macy. “We should get going,” he said, his voice steady and controlled.
Macy nodded, clearly pleased with herself. “See you around, Piper.”
They walked away together, Macy still holding onto Kitsune’s hand. I stood there frozen, feeling like the world had shifted beneath my feet.
With shaking fingers, I found my bike. I shoved the sourdough bread into the basket, barely noticing as a few petals from the cherry blossoms landed on top. My vision blurred, tears streaming down my face, and I struggled to focus on the path ahead.
