CHAPTER TWO

                Opening, I shoved my hand in my pocket and took out the small key. I glanced back before climbing down the wooden stairs. It creaked under my weight. I wasn't heavy. 

     Ava locked the door. I unlocked my bicycle and climbed on it. It was affordable. I reread the address he had sent me. It was somewhere in the middle of the woods. It would take me longer than I imagined. 

     Taking a deep sigh, I reached my feet for pedals. Sligh bending ahead, I began to ride the bicycle. 

     I wasn't scared of the dark. The moon was half in size and followed me over my head. There were a lot of things to be scared of, like dying with hunger, seeing my sister's broken face when her dreams would remain uncompleted, seeing my mother on the hospital bed. 

     I was planning to tell Ava about my secret job. I did. I told her not to ask for the details of the cases. It wasn't always good. She never did after. Keeping them secret was a part of my job. 

     I stared at the wooden house. I slowed my speed. 

     I leaned my bicycle against the tree. I wasn't expecting this. A splendid wooden house in the centre of the wood. I was expecting grimy panes, a house covered with dirt. My eyes widened finding a tidy house in the middle of the woods. 

     I retrieved my phone and checked the address. It wasn't the wrong place but it did not seem right to me. 

     I shoved the key and my phone in the pocket. I did not lock my bicycle. 

     In case, I need to run away after seeing something unpleasant. 

    The unusual fear engulfed me. It happened every time. I slipped my hand in my bag, clasping it for dear life, I took out a hammer. It's not horrible looking, but a small

weapon to keep attackers away. Clenching the hammer, I hugged the bag to my chest, the strap of my bag hanging over my shoulder. 

    Walking close to the door, I lift my hand to tap on the white-painted wooden door. This house must be looking haunted at night, but it looked the opposite. So beautiful. 

    My mind was already telling me to run away from this place. I held my breath and fastened my hand, I was prepared to attack with the hammer. 

     "Emma," His face was wrinkled with a full smile. He was a tall and lean man with grey hair and grey stubble. He was wearing dark blue trousers and a white shirt. A black cotton scarf was hanging around his neck. I never saw him without it. I didn't need to ask. It must belong to his late wife. 

      I breathed out feeling relief after hearing Mr Morris's soft voice, "Always prepared," His smiling face came into view as he stepped forward. He was gripping the door open for me. 

      "Mr Morris," I sighed again, smiling at him. He was a kind man. His wife died four years ago with Cancer and his only son, Cane, was married and staying in New York. He had asked Mr Morris to come to New York and stayed with him many times. But Mr Morris was in love with his job and with the memories of his late wife. 

     "I hope. I'm not late, " I smiled 

     "You're on time, Miss." He moved aside to let me in. 

     I nodded my head and lowered my eyes while walking in. An unfamiliar aroma of herbs filled my nostrils. Confused! I tried to recall the names of herbs by smelling them. My smelling power was stronger than normal people. I felt blessed to have it. Sometimes, it saved me from unknown troubles. I let out an exaggerated sigh when I couldn't comprehend the herbs, "What's this place?" I asked, looking at the walls and ceiling. 

     The walls were painted white, a lot of paintings were decorating the walls and an old but classic chandelier was hanging in the centre of the roof. Reaching my hand up, I ran my hand in my hair, using my fingers as a comb. 

     Mr Morris cleared his throat. In praising my surroundings, I forgot that I came here for my work. 

     "I'm sorry, Mr Morris." I lowered my eyes in embarrassment. 

     My gaze caught the sight of another man in the house. He must be the owner of the house. He looked close to Mr Morris's age. He was wearing a grey suit. He looked aristocratic. His lips were curled up in a smile and an amusement expression on his face. 

    "Is this your weapon, Miss?" His lips parted in a full smirk. His gaze was fixed on my hand. 

    I looked down at my hand and squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment. Opening my eyes, I shoved it in my backpack and slung it back, "I'm sorry." 

     'Shit!' I cursed inwardly. I had repeated the sorry word many times. I put my head down and hugged the strap of my bag close to my chest. 

      " Emma, He's Donovan Wolfe," Mr Morris said. 

     My eyes widened one more time. He was a billionaire. I had read about him in the newspaper. I snapped my gaze at him and looked closely. His elder son and daughter-in-law died in an accident. I didn't know the details. 

    Yes! I have seen him on the news channels' screen. He was a millionaire. His younger son has joined the family business and he has earned a special space in society and became a billionaire. 

    "I know you," My voice was full of astonishment. 

     He laughed and nodded his head. He looked in deep thoughts as he gazed at me without blinking his eyes. He gave a shake to his head as getting rid of his thoughts. 

     I was wondering. What would have brought him to Mr Morris when he could hire the best detective of the world. I glanced back at Mr Morris. I didn't know him very well. But I could give a character certificate. He's a good old man. 

     "Mr Morris," I adopted my professional voice, "What was so urgent? " I asked. My job could call me at any time. But in the centre of the wood, it didn't settle well with me. There must be something big. 

    He glanced at me, his sweet smile was on display. There were no wrinkles on his face and it astounded me. 

     "Mr Wolfe needs a caretaker for his granddaughter." Mr Morris said. 

     I blinked my eyes looking at Mr Morris to Mr Wolfe. Now I understand. But why have they summoned me here? 

     "You're firing me," It came out of my mouth with a shocked expression. I shouldn't. But I was in love with my detective job, though Morris does the all essential part. 

     Mr Morris heaved deeply and shook his head. His small smile never wavered from his face, "I'm visiting my son." He said with a sad note. 

     "And you're planning to stay there longer," I whispered. 

     He nodded his head instantly, "Donovan is my friend. I trust him. I wanna help you, child." 

     My heart melted when he said 'child' though, I'm not a kid but my father must have addressed me the same way. 

     "Yeah! When can I join?" I asked as there was no reason, I was going to kick the new job. I need to feed my family, take care of them.