Lost Locket

The sound of the neighboring ocean could be heard just faintly, he found, no matter where he found himself in the small village of Puffer Point. He could be in the middle of town, where the humdrum of people and the lively engines of cars almost drowned out the distant sound, or he could be in the woods just outside of town, where the crashing waves almost complimented the sounds of rustling leaves and squeaking birds. It was a sound he didn't expect to imprint on so quickly, but Linus was learning that he was growing fond of his new constant companion that was the sea. It definitely beat the rough rumbling of near constant running engines and the occasional, piercing 'honk' sound that he was so used to back in Degaldo.

There was no use in reminiscing, no matter how much his mind insisted. No, he was on a case, one of many that had been neglected in the last twenty years or so. It was painful enough to know, and even more painful to admit to the folks who had gone through these incidents prior.

And now he gets to go through that all over again for the tenth time this week. Great. Just great.

He reached up and knocked on the door before him, and moments later he was greeted by an older woman with a questioning look in her eye. It didn't last long, though, it never did, because the get-up he wore was clarity enough. It basically screamed 'detective'.

That was always one less question to answer.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. Misses Jackson, I presume?" Linus begged cordially. The older woman nodded, a small smile on her face.

"Yes, that is me. And you are...?"

"Linus Sinclair, detective." He flashed her his badge out of habit. "First and foremost, ma'am, I want to apologize for how late I am getting to your case."

"Sure are late, young'un, it's been seven years since I put in that request."

Young'un, huh? Sure didn't hear that very often anymore. He had to stifle a laugh.

"Believe me, young lady, I know." He quipped. "But I moved into town and was assigned to the long abandoned position. Been swimming in dust and old files for the last three weeks. I came to you to see if you'd still like your case looked into. I understand you're on the lookout for a locket of some sort."

The woman nodded almost eagerly, her dull eyes lighting up just lightly. "Oh, yes. I've still not found it, you see. It was a gift from my husband. It has our wedding photo in it and I haven't been able to find it since. I would very much appreciate it if you could possibly find it."

"I'll see what I can do. Could I have you glance over the file, here? Are they still relevant?" He offered the papers to her and she soon positioned the large, round glasses to rest atop her nose. Her chin lifted only slightly, she proceeded to look over the printed words on the clearly aged file.

"Looks fine, dear. I do hope you can find it soon, too. Our fiftieth anniversary is coming up soon and I'd like to at least know I still have it."

At that, Linus took the files back. "I do, too." Thankfully the ones he'd been doing so far were the easier ones. Lost things and such. Course, he had asked various people about missing persons cases as well, but those took more time... and better, fresher evidence. Something that he lacked equally. More often than not, when he thought of it, his fist sure itched to hit the man who decided that hiring another detective after the first one left was a bad idea. The people deserved better.

"Know that I'll be on the case, ma'am. Thank you, and congrats on the anniversary." And with that, he tipped his fedora slightly, causing the woman to smile.

"Thank you, Detective Sinclair."

The confrontation was finished when Misses Jackson shut the door, and soon he was walking down her concrete driveway, chewing idly on his lip. Man, this was going to be tight. This case was different from the others, because now he was timed! Just like those tests in school. He always hated those.

A hand reached up to rub at his forehead. Hopefully he can find this thing, and soon. She deserved that much after waiting so long.

---

A week and a half. It took him a week and a half to find that locket. If eye-rolls were audible he was sure he would've heard his for miles. A week and a half... If he could find a locket in a week and a half after seven stinkin' years then why couldn't someone else do it earlier? A cop could've done it, for Pete's sake!

It was times like these that he had to remind himself that punching the chief of police was an offense... No matter how satisfying the thought sometimes was.

He had found it in the park, under about three feet of dirt using nothing but a metal detector. By the looks of it someone must've buried it. He liked to think it was some kid who thought it was treasure-worthy, but he could never be sure himself. Whatever the situation, he was just glad he found it. He even cleaned it for her. His mother taught him how to clean stuff like that, and boy, he was always thankful that his mother had taught him such a trick, no matter how odd it appeared to be to the rest of the force. Thankfully here, at least, he worked from home.

He had sent the locket in a concealed envelope to her address. A few days later he got an invitation to her anniversary party and a small box of cookies. He couldn't help but let out a laugh.

If only everyone thanked him this way. If only every case was this easy.

But they usually weren't, honestly. He had his work cut out for him.

He twirled that small invitation card in his fingers as his gaze fixed upon the sea outside of his window, deep red eyes flickering slightly in thought.

Well, he was invited. He was obligated to go.

But all these cases... 

...

One more day wouldn't hurt.