Carmen Cavanaugh Chronicles: Mystery of the Missing McDermont (Chapter 5-Jan 27)

[creamcheesefrosting]

The Carmen Cavanaugh Chronicles
Number One: The Mystery of the Missing McDermot
Chapter 1

My name is Carmen Cavanaugh. I live in Belladonna Cove, a suburb of Sim City. We're just close enough to the city to get the crime, pollution, and misfits, but not close enough to be under the umbrella of of the cultural and political epicenter that the City represented.


I work as a receptionist at the Anderson & Son Investigations. I'd gone to school with Dean's kids, Jack and Julia. Julia was the same age as me, 26, and was more interested in spending her father's money than anything else. Jack was a year older, and worked as a private investigator with his dad.


I spent my days answering phones, filing reports, and liaising with the individuals and organizations that worked with the company. A&S worked on contracts with the Belladona Cove Police Department and local bond offices to track down fugitives, and with the District Attorney to discover evidence, in addition to the regular clients they had.


Dean Anderson worked in the upstairs office and he was an old friend of my family's. He'd been the best man at three out of my Uncle Tom's four weddings, and his wife had died a few years back. He was a retired cop who didn't like to talk about the old days, but who for some reason had taken a liking to me and offered me a job out of college.


Jack worked in the office behind my reception station. He was a year ahead of me in school and we had dated for a semester back in senior year. We had both agreed that it hadn't worked out then, and now we were close friends. I spent a lot of time with Jack, occasionally going on stakeouts with him or helping him research a case.


It was five o'clock and we were all getting ready to go when I heard Dean's private line ring. He answered it and I coudl hear the hushed tones of conversation upstairs.


A moment later, Dean went to the railing and looked down at me. "Carmen, can you get Jack and come up here with him?" I nodded and went to Jack's door, knocking on it and then sticking my head in. "The Old Man needs us."


When we had all settled in, Dean said, "You both know about the internal affairs investigation in the Major Case Squad of the BCPD?" Jack and I nodded; it had been all over the local TV and newspapers. During a sting operation gone wrong, a cop had been shot dead and a suspect had been allowed to escape and now the squad was under fire.


Dean looked pained for a moment. "Derek McDermot has gone missing." I looked up, surprised. The McDermots were another family of friends. He was three years older than me and had followed his family business into the police. His father was retired now and worked in the family bakery not far from my apartment. "What do you mean, missing?" I asked.


"His car is gone. His apartment is empty. He hasn't been into work. It's an open secret in the police department that internal affairs was going to impanel and grand jury and ask for subpoenas for all the squadmates," said Dean with a sigh. He looked really upset; he had been Derek's sponsor and mentor in the police before he retired. "It's possible...he might've run because he was going to go to jail."


Jack and I exchanged a look. "You think Derek could've shot the cop, what was his name, Flanders?" Dean shook his head. "I don't know. But he's gone, and his captain doesn't trust the PD to bring him in. He asked us as a personal favor. So Jack, Carmen, I need you two to go talk to his family tomorrow morning and see if he's talked to them."


As we walked down the street towards the parking garage at the end of the block, Jack and I talked about Derek's disappearance. "Didn't you date Derek after high school?" Jack asked. I smirked, glancing down at my shoes for a second. We'd had a series of encounters before he'd joined the force, but I wouldn't call it dating. "Don't read too much into it," I said with a chuckle. "After all, I dated you, didn't I?"


"Ancient history," he said, but an awkward silence followed until he said, "I don't know. It doesn't feel like he ran from the internal affairs investigation. He was a good guy, a good cop." I nodded; that was my feeling too. "Is it possible one of the other guys wanted to keep him quiet?" I asked. Jack considered it. "Maybe. Whatever happened, we need to find him."

No kidding.

[Zorom]

Yes, yes! Good start! You could make a lot out of this! I like it! 
As for your picture-taking-they are beautiful, but I think the actual content needs some work.
You just see people sitting and walking, and standing, try catch the sims while they are actually talking to eachother, that makes it more realistic, you know?

Anyway, great! Update soon, okay?

[creamcheesefrosting]

The Mystery of the Missing McDermot
Chapter 2

The following morning, Jack turned up on my doorstep at 7. I slid on a pair of sunglasses and opened the door, leaning on the wall near the door. "Morning," I said. "Want to come in for some coffee?" I asked, gesturing towards the door. Jack smiled. "You don't have a coffee maker. Or a toaster, or a microwave."

I frowned. Okay, so maybe I didn't have it all together in terms of domestic life. "What do I have?" I asked.

"You have your mother three blocks away who's happy to make you breakfast." He nodded towards his SUV. "You didn't exactly cut the umbilical, did you?"

"You work for your dad, so shut up," I said. "What's first?"


We walked towards the crosswalk as Jack laid out our day. "We're going to head over to the McDermot bakery first. When people go missing, oftentimes the family has a clue of some kind as to their whereabouts." He glanced at me and apparently saw the lightbulb over my head. "And you can get a muffin."

"Excellent," I said, but I felt somewhat uneasy. The McDermot clan and I had had a somewhat checkered history. But hey, I'm going to be a paying customer, right? They'll take my money and smile. But I would have to check my muffin for spit.


We paused at the crosswalk, waiting for the signal. "How do you feel about this case?" he asked. "You've had time to sleep on it. Any new thoughts?"

I hesitated for a second before answering. "I don't know. I don't think Derek would've shot a fellow officer on purpose, and it doesn't strike me as likely that he'd run if he did it on accident. He was always...decent."

"Decent?" he echoed. "You sure about that?"

"Okay, so when he was younger he was a hellion. He like fast cars and specialized in getting girls in his back seat..." I hoped that the chill of the morning would prevent color rising in my cheeks. "...but he never did anything wrong, or sleazy. And those two years in the Army seemed to straighten him out."

"As I said yesterday, I think he's a good man and a good cop, so I agree with your assessment."


Ten minutes later we were parked in front of the McDermot bakery. The bakery was a small house whose lower floor had been converted for business. The bakery was staffed by siblings Darcy and Dorothy, and Dorothy's daughter, Derek's cousin. Darcy was a retired policeman who ran the bakery like a squadroom. "Stay in the car and keep your eyes peeled," Jack told me. "I'll bring the muffin out."

"Why can't I come in?" I asked as he climbed out of the door and rounded to my side.


"Because Dalia McDermot hates you." It was hard to argue with that. I sat back in resigned silence. "You never told me why, by the way," he said, clearly leaving the door open for me to explain.

"Not today," I said, determined not to think about it. "Bring me back a chocolate chip muffin. And for God's sake, some coffee."

"All right."


In my mind's eye I imagined Jack's steps. Darcy McDermot would be sitting in the chair near the door, reading the newspaper. Jack would greet him and in return be greeted by the rustle of the newspaper. Dalia would be sitting at the counter by the register, ready to take orders. And Dorothy would be working in the kitchen.

Hypothetically, the place would be pretty easy to snoop around with all of them so engaged--if I wasn't so obedient to my boss, that is.


Who am I kidding? I hopped out of the car and looked around. The first thing I noticed was that the McDermot's Lexus was parked outside. I knew they used the garage for storing baking supplies, but they never left the Lexus out. I walked over to it and noticed that there was condensation on it; the car had been left out overnight!

I glanced around to the side of the garage. There were windows on the side. I went to the gate, reached over the top to unlock it, and let myself into the tidy side yard. I stopped at the garage window and looked inside. There was a pickup truck parked in the garage among bags of flour and sugar. Was that Derek's car? I wondered.


I heard a shout from inside, asking Darcy to go get a bag of flour and ducked out of sight just as the door swung open. I prayed that Darcy didn't see me, and pressed against the wall under the window as I heard the footsteps approaching the window. "Anyone out there?" he asked, and my breath caught. After a few moments, I heard the footsteps subside; apparently I was safe.


I walked around the back of the bakery, looking for any other clues that might come in handy, but came up empty-handed. I didn't see anything interesting...


...but I didn't realize that someone else had seen something of interest to them.

Author's Note: For some reason, my game keeps resetting the image size to medium and the quality to medium, so this and the next chapter will be that quality, but I'll try to remember to change it back each time in the future.

[creamcheesefrosting]

The Mystery of the Missing McDermot
Chapter 3

I pushed the door open and walked into the bakery. "If you hear from him, you'll let me know?" Jack as asking Dalia, who nodded and looked over at me, her face instantly hardening.

"Can I help you?" she demanded in a tone that made it clear that she was less than keen on being helpful to me.

"I told you to wait in the car," Jack muttered.


"I just want my muffin. I'm starving," I said, returning Dalia's glare. She looked like she'd rather throw the muffin at me than serve it to me.

"Thanks, Dalia. We'll be going now," said Jack, thrusting a brown bag towards me. I looked away from Dalia and smiled at Jack.

"Thanks," I said to him as we walked back towards the door. "Goodbye, Mr. McDermot," I said to Darcy, who was reading his paper again. He rustled them at me, and Jack and I were gone.


We were sitting in Jack's office. He asked me to download anything that the information services we used might have on Derek, so I was using his laptop when it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't told him what I saw. "Hey," I said as the search ran. I turned the chair around. "Do you have a second?"

"What is it?" He was still sore about the bakery. Well, I was about to blow that away, wasn't I?

"It's about the bakery. I saw something."


He turned to look at me as I ran a hand through my hair. "What is it?" he repeated. "What did you see?"

"A black pickup truck in the garage," I said with a little smile. "I'm not sure but I think it might be Derek's."

"Why didn't you say so?" he demanded, spinning the chair around to face me. "In the car, I mean."


"I was eating," I said simply, not wanting to admit my lapse in memory. "I'm not an animal, for God's sake. I don't talk with my mouth full."

"Fine," Jack said, a bemused smirk coming across his face. "But in the future, put the muffin down and tell me these things first."

"I'm running the plate number now," I said, turning my chair so I could see the screen. I hit the print key on the computer and a minute later handed him a printout. "It was his."


"That doesn't mean anything," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Could be his dad or sister just went to snag it."

"How would they know?" I asked. "The PD has kept Derek's disappearance quiet."

"Of course he told them," said Jack.

"But you said Dalia said..." I said, but let my voice drop of. "Of course. She lied. Blood is thicker than water in our neighborhood."

"In most neighborhoods, actually," said Jack. He frowned to himself. "Listen, Carmen, I know we were going to stake out his apartment tonight, but I have a meeting with McDermot's captain tonight so we'll have to cancel."

"Can I come?" I asked.

"Not this time," Jack said, and something in his voice told me not to pursue the matter.

At closing time, we parted ways, me heading for my parents' and him trucking downtown.

[creamcheesefrosting]

The Mystery of the Missing McDermot
Chapter 4

Twenty minutes later I was sitting in my mother's kitchen, sitting up straight and pulling my hair out of my face like she insisted, and watching her baste a turkey. "Won't you stay for dinner?" she wanted to know.

"I don't think so," I said. "I have...work stuff tonight." Okay, so maybe that wasn't exactly true, but I wasn't in the mood to bear a night of my mother muttering about grandchildren and why I didn't have a date.


"Work...stuff?" my mother asked, her lips curling around the word.

"Yeah," I said. "Can you keep a secret?"

She paused, looking down for a moment. "Well, I haven't got an appointment at the beauty shop for two weeks. How's that?"

"Done. Derek McDermot's gone missing," I explained. "The police don't want this out, so they've hired Dean. He put Jack and I on it."


My mother gave me that look that said she was on the scent. "You and Jack?" she echoed. "How is Jack?"

"Jack's fine, mom. Don't look at me like that." She did a palms-up as if to say 'like what?' "Jack's my boss. Don't even hope."

"Yes, dear," she said with a quiet smile. "Still, you should invite him over for dinner before you go on one of your stake-outs."

"It's not a stake-out tonight," I said. "I'm going home to look over all the stuff I found researching today."

"Go say hello to your father and brother before you go," she said.


I walked into the living room, where my dad and my brother Cameron were watching a game. "Hi," I said.

"Hey," they said together, scooting towards the ends of the couch to make space for me. I took a seat.

"Who's winning?" I wanted to know.

"Not us," they said, again in unison.


Here's the thing about my family. My dad was a retired auto-worker who couldn't be bothered to muster any emotion about politics, religion, or current events, but if the BD-Cove Canaries' outfielder missed a ball, he was ready to invade.

My brother Cameron was a loveable n'er-do-well. He'd dropped out of college to pursue a career in art which, conveniently, meant that he lived at home and painted in his spare time. He was five years younger than me, and my parents were happy to have him around to help out, though my dad did occasionally threaten to toss him on his behind.

Our relationship wasn't complicated. We loved each other, but we didn't really talk unless it was serious. So I watched for a few minutes, then kissed my dad on the cheek, slapped my brother on the knee, and went back to the kitchen.


"I'm out of here," I told my mom. "See you tomorrow, maybe."

"Are you coming for breakfast?" she asked.

"I can make my own breakfast, mom," I said.

"You don't own a toaster," she reminded you. "What are you having for dinner?"

I raised an eyebrow. I hadn't pondered that. Stealing a glance around her, I looked at the roasted chicken sitting on the counter. My mom turned to see what I was looking at and said, "I'll get a Tupperware."

Ten minutes later, as I was walking to my apartment with a bag with chicken, rolls, potatoes, green beans, and cherry tart, I considered my life. Sure, I had given up any semblance of dignity, but I'll be honest: my mother's chicken was worth it.

[Zorom]

Great! I'm glad to see see your pictures have much improved.
Can't wait to see what happens next! Keep it up! 

[creamcheesefrosting]

The Mystery of the Missing McDermot
Chapter 5

That night I sat in my recliner, watching a rerun of Simfeld while waiting for the news to come on. I thought about the case and wondered if Derek would risk staying at his family's bakery for any significant amount of time. After all, if the police found out they would definitely be involved in some kind of criminal investigation, possibly even charges of obstruction of justice.

Something still bothered me about this whole thing. If this were a straightforward internal affairs investigation, Derek wouldn't have gone on the lam. Accidents happened, especially when you're dealing with live fire. This was something that would earn him a mark on his record, if he had even been the shooter. Why would he risk running?

The opening bars of the News theme song jarred me from my thoughts and I looked at the screen. An Asian female newscaster looked into the camera. "Good evening everyone, I'm Doreen Chang, and this is the six o'clock news. Well, members of the Belladonna Cove Police Department are going to think more carefully about eating sweets today after a birthday party for one of the department's Vice detectives resulted in food poisoning for several members of the force. Tests reveal a rare food bacteria in the frosting of the birthday cake served at the party. One officer, Detective Bill Pence, is in the hospital due to reactions with the bacteria. No other serious injuries were reported. And to Detective Sloane: happy 45th. Now we go to Jackie Tate with the weather."

I didn't get to hear what Jackie had to say about the weather, though; the TV turned off. I looked around for my remote and almost screamed.


"It's so hard to find a competent weather girl these days," said Derek McDermot, leaning against the doorframe with the remote in his hand. "Trust me, you don't want to see Jackie Tate talk about the weather. She predicted showers tonight, and look--not a cloud in the sky."

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, springing up out of my chair, trying to put something between us. It's true, I'd known and been friendly and even romantic at times with Derek McDermot, but he was a wanted man on the run. Who knows what he might do?


"I know you're looking for me," Derek said calmly, reaching over to set the remote on top of my TV. "I thought I'd come and give it to you straight: you don't want any part of this, Cara."

"Don't call me that," I snapped. "How did you get in here?"

"Kitchen window," said Derek with a smile. "Just like old times, right?" He smile vanished. "I'm serious about this, Carmen. You need to stay out of this."

"Why?" I demanded. "This is my job."

"Because I don't want you to get hurt. You could end up in jail, or worse."

I studied him for a few moments, then smirked. "You look terrible. Are you all right?"

"I'm starving. Was that chicken in the fridge?"

"You snooped my fridge?" I asked, trying to sound as angry as someone in this position should. For some reason, it was more amusing than anything. With a resigned sigh I said, "Would I end up in jail if I shared?"

"That depends," said Derek with a deadpan look. "Did you cook it?"


"So what happened?" I demanded after I had microwaved us some chicken and potatoes. "Did you shoot Flanders?"

"I really can't tell you," said Derek around a mouthful of potatoes. "You know, that's one thing I miss about hanging out with you. Your mom's a great cook."

"I'll tell her," I said dryly. "You can break into my house, play with my TV, eat my chicken--" He gave me a look. "--okay, my mother's chicken. But you can't tell me anything?"

"How about this? I've got a deal for you."


"I'm listening," I said and plunked a green bean in my mouth.

"I'll tell you something if you promise to stop trying to find me to turn me in."

"What makes you think I haven't called the cops already, and this chicken isn't a ruse to keep you here?"

"Because I'm not stupid, Cara," said Derek sternly. "And I've been watching you the whole time. And your phone is on the kitchen counter. And you almost wet your pants when you saw me in the doorway. Do we have a deal?"

"Fine." He was right about almost wetting my pants. He'd scared me half to death! "Go ahead."


"I didn't shoot Flanders. I don't know who did, but I know who's going to have it pinned to them: me." Derek's voice had a bitter edge.

"How do you know if you shot him? Weren't you all firing at the same time?" I imagined a dark room filled with crossfire.

"Yes, but I know for a fact I didn't shoot Flanders. I was shooting blanks."

"What?" I demanded. "That was incredibly dangerous! What if you'd needed live rounds?"

"I wouldn't."

"How could you possibly--?"

He cut me off impatiently. "Logan told me, all right?" His eyes blazed for a moment; I could tell he hadn't intended to drop a name. Luckily for him, I didn't know any Logans. "But things went wrong, and Flanders ended up dead."


"Who were you investigating?" I asked timidly, afraid to rouse his ire.

He shook his head. "That, I can't tell you. I won't. It's too dangerous." He looked at me gravely.

Something passed between us then; an understanding. He was talking about one of the organized crime outfits that plagued Belladonna Cove. It was one of the things that we inherited because we were so close to Sim City. The high-ups lived in Sim City. The gangs that operated in Belladonna Cove were typically thugs and wanna-bes...with a few notable exceptions.

"Well, I think I've involved you in this felony about as much as I intend to," Derek said. "I'd better go."

"Yeah right. You're forgetting one thing."


Derek rinsed the dishes while I put the leftovers away. "Now you can go," I told him with a laugh.

"I mean it, Carmen," he said sternly. "Don't try to come after me. You could get hurt."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'll try to stay away, but I have to do my job."

"Office work," he said. "No stakeouts."

"I'll try." He turned and put his hands on the counter. "You can't go out the front door?" I asked.

"Too risky. I might be seen," he said. And then he was climbing out the window and he was gone.


I lay awake for a long time that night, wondering what to do next. It had felt like an unspoken agreement that we would keep this meeting to ourselves, but I felt a professional and personal loyalty to Dean and Jack. Wouldn't they need to know all the relevant information?

But if I told them, wouldn't they just pursue it further? That could end up with one of them getting hurt.

What was there to do? I asked myself. I chewed the question, but it felt more like the question was chewing me.

[Zorom]

? Plot twist! Brilliant! Update soon.

[steelguy]

I like the way this is going. A good old-fashioned P.I. story.