The People v. Eleanor Warwick

The fire is pleasantly warm.

The falls are cold in New England. It’s nice to be able to escape the chill. His library is massive, featuring first editions that are hundreds of years old. Some of them cost more than a house. He hasn’t managed to read them all. Difficult to find the time.

He stares at the flames as they dance about. He raises a brandy to his lips, taking a sip. A black cane rests in his hand. He rolls the rod between his fingers.

A loud knocking echoes through the room. “Enter.”

The varnished oak door swings open. A tall, handsome man enters and steps up behind his chair. “We found her, Dad.”

A printer page marked with the shield of the Carmadie Police Department appears in his peripheral vision. Taking the document, he scans the information upon it. Particularly, the photographs of the young woman. “My God. She looks ridiculous.”

“Who cares?” the young man asks forcefully. “We know where she is. Give me two days and she’ll be on this floor before you.”

Rising from the chair, he steps around to face his son. “Don’t be in such a hurry to rush after her, Adrian. Carmadie is not like Boston. There is no controlling House. It’s lawless. The wild west.”

“I don’t care! I will crush anyone who gets in the way! I will find her!”

Adrian flinches as his father suddenly reaches out and grasps him by the back of his neck. He stares into his elder’s dark, burning eyes.

“Calm. Down.”

With a heavy swallow and a deep breath, Adrian settles himself. “I’m sorry.”

He eased his grip on the young man’s neck. “I know you’re angry, but if you go marching into Carmadie with that attitude, you will be killed.”

“Yes, sir.”

He pats the boy on the shoulder before walking past him and heading for the door. “I will make a few calls, see if we can gather a little more information before we go.”

“We?” Adrian blinks in surprise. “You…you’re going, Dad?”

Alexander Blackwell halts. He glances over his shoulder, taking slight exception to his son’s surprise. “Yes, I am. We all are.”