Trapped By Her Words

Still processing the fresh sensory stimulus in his mind, Adam wondered and questioned his own memory.

The photograph showcased himself sitting blissfully at the café, his likeness smiling directly at the camera. If only Adam had been struck by a mild dose of retrograde amnesia, he would've truthfully believed what he saw.

Alas, he was sane and sober.

He clearly remembered and recalled the events precedent in the last 24 hours.

The detective was hardly aware of his oncoming fate back at that moment. He had no reason to smile nor gaze at a camera lens. And he wasn't a fan of the coffee being hinted in the canvas.

Something was definitely not consistent.

And only one person knew the answer.

Trudging with an extremely inconfident and impatient aura, Adam Jucas walked along the corridor, now fragnated with the sun's royalty.

Arriving at Catalina's door, he hesitated before attempting the activity he'd planned.

'What if she's not guilty? How can I be so sure that she's behind this?' his intrusive mental entity advised further. 'Whatever it may be, it surely isn't a healthy prank. I can still ask her if she's observed something relatable .'

His rolled up fingers formed fists and pounded on the timber platform obstructing the path to Catalie's chambers.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Footsteps followed the end of the three hits, the amplitude ascending according to the Doppler effect.

The door opened, and the familiar face of a female human appeared.

"Hi Adam!" her doe lips moved with grace. The tips of her upper incisors were slightly visible. "Good morning!"

"Good day, miss Catalie," Adam locked held his left fist within his right, both arms reclining vertically on his back. "A pleasant morning, indeed."

***

The more it made sense, the more it didn't.

"Sorry I forgot to mention about this eerie coincidence earlier," Catalina sipped on her bubble tea. "I genuinely thought that you were the same person."

"Ah, that's alright. Human nature is about making mistakes," Adam japed along, as he stirred his cappuccino. The foamy liquid danced around the edges of the exquisite porcelain cup. "And learning to mend them."

The photograph was of another person whose resemblance matched that of his with utmost accuracy. Spotted at the Café Eve-Jack, during a typical work shift as a waitress.

Right now, Catalie was drowning in leisure on her day off.

But the café was a place of comfort for her next to none. She couldn't resist inviting the detective over for a chat.

"Mhmm," her suction on the straw made faint sounds as the creamy flavored water gushed up into her small mouth. "I figured you'd gone to sleep so I just slipped it underneath. Haha," she stopped for a draught of air. "Photography is one of my hobbies. But unfortunately I lack patience sometimes."

"No worries," Adam slipped two expert fingers into the cup's ring, the fingernails well-trimmed and clean. "A woman ought to have passionate wishes and ambitions. Especially one of your accord. But I admit I am running low on my free time. I am on the lookout for someone who could fix my car. Would you be kind and informed about any such leads?"

"Oh, a mechanic. Is that what you're seeking?" her blue eyes lit up like gemstones, vibrant with a sparkle of interest. "You could try asking my uncle, Michael. He runs a factory in the south. Not a mechanic by trade, but I'm sure he has sufficient knowledge about cars."

"Bingo!" the detective slammed an excited fist onto the shiny topcoat layer of the table. "Thanks for the information, miss Bouchie."

Standing up, he left his cup of coffee to cool away via steamy convection currents.

"The drinks are on me," Adam withdrew crisp notes of currency from his wallet and laid them on the cashier's desk.

He could feel two feminine eyes admiring his sense of courtesy. His humble mannerisms.

***

Being a detective on the field for a number of years, Adam Jucas had been accustomed to properly verifying evidence and anecdotes.

He was the man for never wavering under the influence of his own emotions.

On any normal day at work, he'd have navigated through any trails of lies or trials of deceit easier than plucking out a feather belonging to an endangered wild ostrich species. Even when his mission demanded such a task, he could be trusted upon for fulfilling it sincerely.

On any normal instance of trusting strangers, Jucas would always have his stance prepared for aggression. In the past, he had escaped multiple attempts of his enemies willing with the flow of either hatred, fear or jealousy, using various means necessary – from seduction to abduction.

Arriving at the factory mentioned by the offduty waitress, he knew that today wasn't one of them.