OPENING CROWWOOD

DISCLAIMER : The idea of Crowwood belong to Paddy, Estia belongs to Jessi and Seth to Marina, the other characters have been created by extended imagination, discussion and what happened in the P&P

2018, Crowwood, The Day Before The World Died

The Sheriff Sirens always sang a little louder on Crowwoods Friday Night. A little less than 10k of population, and yet the city demanded trouble whenever nightfall came in. That's why Joaquin had taken the job in the first place, and not only was he rich by his nature for solving crimes, he was also asked for by smaller towns surrounding Crowwood.

Gomez, the son of a bitch that was solving crimes even the police couldn't take on. He had left a reputation quite quickly, more or less to his own liking. At least, he had no worries about money any more. That was what they were all in for, right? The American Dream of Money and living a successful life. Joaquin had no belief in any of that whitewashed nonsense the capitalists were constantly selling to young souls, when Walmart workers couldn't even afford paid breaks.

Just think positive and you will get rich, mijo.

The little doorbell to his office rang, and his eyes wandered from his computer to said door. For a second, he was staring into the cold blue eyes of his brother Jason. Then he realized he was dreaming again and to his pleasant surprise a young woman, a head shorter than him but not lesser tougher in her posture, stood in his door frame.

“Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to know if I can park my car in front of your office. The whole main road is blocked due to the festival for tomorrow and something is telling me that the supermarket is crazy busy too”, she explained her troubles.

“Busy day at the car store?”, Joaquin asked, without giving her an answer to her question yet. The blue overall, in combination with her white shirt underneath and plastered dirt all over it, gave away that she was at least a somewhat mechanic.

“Too many men, with too many problems”, the woman hesitated “about their cars I mean”, she corrected herself but couldn't hide a laugh.

“Just like my day then”, Joaqin returned the slight laugh. “Your car is safe with me, but mind if you give me your name?”, he asked.

“Estia”, she replied.

“The last goddess”, Joaquin mused. “I know I don't look like it, but I did have my Percy Jackson phase, that made me fall in love with everything Greek”, he added with a smile.

“If that was an intent to flirt with me, you should have declared the meaning where she stands for a worshipped goddess and daughter of Cronus”, Estia answered, arms crossed.

He didn't try to flirt. Okay, maybe he did. It was a habit to read people by their names, accents and first impressions they gave him. Whenever he had a new encounter, a potential client, case or suspect was right in front of him. Something he couldn't let go, and merely the reason why his love life was all but a legendary history.

“I guess you hear bullshit like that all day from men in your job”, he tried to empathize the situation but knew he couldn't come back from the bad attempt to flirt he had screwed over.

“Take a shot for every man that tries to explain how to fix their car, and you will be in hospital by the end of the day”, Estia said.

“Well, then I'd rather not. Don't worry about the fifteen minutes, park the car as long as you need”, Joaquin said.

“Is that all? No back door?”, she asked.

Joaquin raised an eyebrow a la I'm not that kind of jerk, but at the end of the day this was Crowwood and she had a point.

“That is all. But I might see you tomorrow at the festival?”

“If you can find me, when I'm not dressed like this, I might even offer you a drink”, Estia said with a grin, but before the detective could echo another nonchalant wisdom of the day, she was gone.

Damn it. What am I doing?

He had two cases left to solve, and festivals were his least favourite thing in the world. Not to mention that he certainly needed to catch up with sleep, if he even wanted to make it to the festival. He could already see the sensation of the people written all over their face. Detective Gomez and his grand appearance. For whatever fucking reason.

He picked up his phone and send a message to his best or, well, most forced close friend.

Seth, my love. You in for the festival tomorrow?

He could already imagine Seth's face and the barking sound of What the fuck, bro.