4 Chapter 3: Roasted

Suggested Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMnrl0tmd3k

"W-wait, this is all a m-missunderstanding I-I." SLAM.

11:15: AM. The police just arrived to take Randy away. He'll be questioned later by people more… aggressive than me. In the short span of 15 minutes, Randy went from a small-time delivery driver to the prime suspect of a villainous crime! I know I should be happy that I'm getting somewhere, but… something feels wrong. This all seems a little too straightforward, there's now way this case is closed, right?

I suddenly feel an aged hand clamp down on my shoulder, accompanied by a familiar voice beside me. "Well Mr. Opal, I'm impressed!" Mr. Brew beams. "It only took you an hour to solve the case!" He says cheerfully. I turn my gaze to meet his, trying to mask my unease.

"T-thanks sir, it was nothing…" I reply as composed as I can. Mr. Brew flashes a smile before his face starts to rot with confusion.

"But still, I can't believe Randy would do such a thing… to think a boy like that would have the guts to carry it out on his own is… shocking, to say the least…"

"My thoughts exactly…" I mutter quietly. There just has to be more to this case, I know there is! But what? Randy's in for questioning; it may take hours before he's ready! I scan the area, trying to figure out what to do next when I spot a small white slip on the road. Curious, I step out of Mr. Brew's shoulder grasp and walk over to pick it up. It's the paper Randy had! It must have fallen out of his pocket when he was detained…

"What do you have there?" Brew asks, finding my actions odd. I hesitate to reply; would this clue even be worth following? After all, Randy said it was for a date… Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Not every crime needs to be super complicated, maybe Randy was a lot more tenacious than he let on? As much as I'd like to think that, the idea of a possible unsolved mystery leaves a pit in my stomach. I can't leave any loose ends untied! I look back to Mr. Brew, a sudden determination in my stomach.

"... A lead."

. . .

11:30 AM. I exit the taxi and tip the driver. During the ride, I tried calling the number on the slip multiple times, but nobody picked up. As the taxi drives away, I look up at my destination. It certainly isn't where I would go for a date, that's for sure! Before me lied a warehouse. An.. old, brick warehouse on the outskirts of town. I've passed by it a few times in the past, but didn't think much of it. It's been closed for years, why did Randy want to come here?

In front of the warehouse was a sign with the words FOR SALE on it . That's been there for the longest time, but what's new is the paper stapled to it! It had the word SOLD! In big, red text. This caught my interest, so I go over to check it out. On the paper is a date from two weeks ago and a number for asking questions. I try calling up the number, but there's no service out here! Slowly, more cracks were starting to emerge in this case. Hungry for more info, I adjust my hat and enter the building.

The air was a damp, dusty cool inside the warehouse. The only light came from a few windows near the top of the walls, providing for a creepy ambiance. Crates of old goods were scattered about, sealed tightly to protect their ancient contents. As far as abandoned warehouses go, this fits the bill pretty well!(It's both abandoned AND a warehouse!) Something glitters at the rightmost wall, reflecting the dim light just barely enough to be noticeable...

Machinery. New machinery in fact! Huge, shiny devices stood inside the dust-riddled warehouse. As I approach to check them out, I get a strange case of deja vu. I swear I've seen these before… the factory! These machines would fit right at home in pick-ya-up's factory! My mind starts racing with far fetched theories. I mean, what are the odds?! I contemplate leaving, a small voice in my head assuring me there's nothing else here. But then I spot a door.

It's at the back wall of the warehouse, opposite of where I came in. It probably leads to the back parking lot, serving as a bridge between the fresh outside and murky inside. But something about it makes my detective senses tingle, it's so… ominous? This warehouse must be making me paranoid… But hey, what do I have to lose? I strut over to the back door, reach over to the dusty handle, twist and pull it open…

It's dark inside. Even darker than the rest of the warehouse. It wasn't a backdoor, that's for sure! It's smaller than the previous room, but also has a pleasant smell. I can't quite put my nostrils on it thanks to all the dust masking it, but it smells like… an old friend, whatever that means. I try feeling the wall for a light switch, something I didn't think of doing before. After a few seconds of stumbling in the dark, I flick a switch and force the old lights to flicker on, one after another. And all of a sudden, that familiar smell became obvious. The room I stood in was stocked with loads of one thing and one thing only.

Pick-Ya-Up Instant Coffee.

A million questions flooded my mind. What? Who? When? Where? (Well that one was kinda obvious...) and Why? Why, why, why?! Is this where all the instant coffee was brought to? It suddenly all connects… the machinery, the sold paper… I stood there, my mouth agape in pure shock. This is huge! Just wait until Mr. Brew hears about thi-

Suddenly, I feel a blunt, searing pain to the back of my head. Before I can react, my vision goes back and I fall on the floor. Whoever this was… I fell right into their trap!