Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
“Okay Jade that’s perfect.” Cassie lifted her slender finger off of the control.
Jade walked out of the recording booth and sat down in one of the empty chairs, “So I did good?”
“Yeah, this one was good. We just have to get the backup vocals done and we’ll be finished with the track.” Cassie pulled her hair into a ponytail with the rubber band she always had handy.
“That means I can go home now?” Jade picked up a purse lying in the chair next to her. “ We’ve been at this since eight; I just want to catch a nap before I go out.” She ran her hand through her hair before dragging her hand down her face.
“What, you don’t enjoy spending all your time with me and Cass?” Richie asked, he was the producer for the album Jade was working on.
“As much as I love spending all of my time cramped in a both singing the same verse ten different ways, I really just need to see other people.” Jade laughed.
“It’s fine, I don’t want anything more from you. Your free for the night, have fun.” Cassie spun in her chair and waved her friend out.
Richie stood and stretched. At six foot four inches and 300 pounds, he was tall and looked more like a lineman for a professional football team than a record producer. On a bad day, the wrong look made him seem like a killer. But as intimidating as he seemed, he was more like a big teddy bear.
“Cass, I’m going to head out. You coming down with me?” Richie asked.
“Yeah, just a sec. I need to grab my notebooks.”
Cassandra Mitchell was a songwriter. Most of the songs on Jade’s new album, she wrote. Cassie was too shy to ever be in the spotlight, but she was too talented to do anything other than write and produce hit songs for R&B singers. Jade happened to be one of the top artists at the moment, who was also Cassie’s best friend. Every hit Jade had, Cassie wrote.
“I’m ready.” Cassie joined Richie on the elevator down to the street level.
They both walked out onto the bustling New York streets. The studio had been a haven for them both, away from the noise of the busy city streets.
Richie waved to Cassie as he walked away, “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”
“Okay Richie.” Cassie smiled. She stuck her hand in the air and hailed a cab.
When Cassie arrived at her two bedroom Manhattan apartment, she dropped her keys, purse and Blackberry on the side table that sat next to the door. Cassie prepared to wash the day away stripping her clothes as she walked through her home. She was alone tonight, as she was most summer nights.
As she sat in the bathtub, Cassie couldn’t help but to think about him. His blue eyes always haunted her, whether she wanted them to or not. She laughed as she flicked water up in the air. It seemed like every soulful, heart wrenching song she wrote was about him, including the song Jade was currently recording. Cassie could not understand what made her gravitate toward him.
She got out of the bath after an hour of soaking and dried herself off. Cassie stared at her reflection in the full length mirror. The white fluffy towel she wrapped around her body contrasted with her skin. Her skin, she thought as she touched her hand to her face. That was his favorite part of her. It wasn’t her eyes, her smile, or her ass. It was her skin that always seemed to turn him on. He said she reminded him of melted milk chocolate.
Cassie stopped her daydream to walk into the open living area of her apartment where she glanced around the dark room. She noticed the red flashing light of her phone indicating she had a message. Walking across the room, she considered why she didn’t hear her phone go off from her bedroom. Cassie had great hearing; it came in handy in her line of work.
It was a missed call from him, but no voicemail. There was also a text message, “please call,” was all it said. Curious, Cassie dialed the familiar number not knowing what to expect really. The man never used courtesies such as please and thank-you.
The phone rang for a few seconds before the line picked up.
“Hello,” the voice on the other side said.
Cassie was confused. That was not his voice, she would know. She heard it in her dreams when he was not there. “Who is this?”
“This number was labeled ICE in the phone.”
“Okay what does that mean?” Cassie asked. She was irritated; if he did not want to talk to her then he should not have called or sent a text message.
“I’m sorry. My name is Eric Plumber and this phone was with a man brought in to the hospital today.”
“What? How?” Cassie asked as she sat down in a chair.
“I think it’s best if you come down here.”
“Why can’t you just tell me what happened?’ Cassie asked frustrated.
“Ma’am, you need to come down here.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Cassie hung up the phone and got dressed.
She made it to the hospital within an hour. As soon as she walked in the doors, Cassie went up to the front desk.
“Excuse me,” she said nervously tapping her fingers on the counter.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“I was told to come here by a man named, ummm, Eric Plumber. Where is he?’ Cassie asked as she continued to fidget.
“Right, I’ll call him for you.” She instructed Cassie to sit down as she picked up the phone. The woman was on the phone for less than a minuet. She didn’t look up after she finished the call; instead, she continued doing the work Cassie interrupted her from.
After sitting and staring at the desk for fifteen minuets, a man walked out of the elevator and over to the desk. Cassie assumed he was a doctor from the white coat he wore over a pair of blue scrubs. He talked with the woman at the station, who then pointed in Cassie’s direction.
“Hi, I’m Eric Plumber we spoke on the phone,” he said as he stood in front of Cassie.
Cassie stood up and shook his outstretched hand. “Hi, Cassandra Mitchell. The man whose phone you called me on, how is he?”
“Ms. Mitchell, he didn’t have any identification on him, only his cell phone.”
“His name is Christian Norris. Can you tell me what happened to him?”
“He was killed earlier today. A gunshot wound to the abdomen. We did everything we could to save him, but he lost too much blood”
“What?” Cassie choked. “No, no.”
“I’m sorry Ms. Mitchell.”
“Where is he? I need to see him.”
“I was just informed that the police took his body to the medical examiner’s office. They need you to identify the body.”
“I can’t. I don’t think, I can’t deal with this right now.”
“Ms. Mitchell, I called the detectives working on his case. They are on their way down here now. They’ll take you to him. Why don’t you sit down?” Dr. Plumber helped Cassie to an empty chair.