The Strange Mail

Yolanda Hamilton was an attractive-looking woman in his late twenties. She had black, unruly hair, dark blue eyes, an elegant body that could fit right into any feminine dress, and a warm smile. With looks straight from Hollywood, the men were constantly roaming all over him like fleas. Perhaps the only thing that put some of them at bay was the fact that she was an officer of the law who could easily have them locked up for assault. 

Growing up as an only child had made Yolanda rather defensive and this played out in her interactions with people. She was the kind of woman who stood his ground even if it meant fighting alone. 

Today, Yolanda had come to work disturbed. The events of the past night still replayed in her mind, although now, it seemed more of a dream than reality. She sat before the computer screen in her booth staring blankly at it for almost half an hour before he suddenly came to himself as she felt a presence around her.

"Hey, Yolanda. What's up?" A familiar voice said. 

Yolanda lifted her face and met the gaze of Officer Hillary, her partner. Suddenly, the events of the previous night came crashing back into her memory and her face became washed with embarrassment. 

"You look really hungover," Officer Hillary was saying. "Are you sure you don't need a day off?"

Yolanda shook his head. "Last night was crazy," She said tonelessly. "I can't believe we actually went to see a Shaman. But it was so surreal."

Officer Hillary gave a light chuckle. "You needed to have seen how drunk you looked yesterday."

"You mean before or after we saw the Shaman?" 

Officer Hillary's eyes widened in amusement at her question. "Both times. We really should never do that again. I was so scared for you. I mean you're a lady. You shouldn't drink that much ever again."

Yolanda smiled slowly. She was touched by his concern. But there was something else she was touched with. Officer Hillary had taken the hint from the look on his face and had asked what this was about before he said a word. 

"You're worried about what the shaman said, aren't you?"

Yolanda's eyes flashed at once in fear. "Lower your voice, Charles," She warned. "Someone might hear us. I have no intention of explaining what I was doing at a shaman's house last night to anybody."

Officer Hillary apologized at once. "I didn't mean to be loud. But seriously, Yolanda, don't tell me you're taking what that old man said seriously. It's probably nothing."

Yolanda gave him a pointed stare. "Or it could be something, Charles. Did you see the look in that man's eyes? It didn't look like he was joking to me!"

"Yet, he got money from us."

"I don't get it," Yolanda snapped. "Were we not supposed to pay him for the job? What's your point exactly?"

Officer Hillary drew a deep breath. "My point is that whatever that man is doing there, he's doing it for the money. He had to tell you something__anything to convince you that you didn't waste your money consulting him."

Yolanda looked at him for a moment, processing the words he'd just heard. "So you're saying that there's a possibility that none of these is true."

"Yes!" Officer Hillary said. There was a small spark in his eyes. "I mean, we paid the man for his services and he just had to tell us anything to get us satisfied for giving him any money in the first place."

Yolanda thought for a moment. "Your logic would make a lot of sense if I had not seen the fear in that man's eyes. It was like I'm some kind of devil he was trying to avoid. Is that something I should ignore?"

"And are you certain that was what you saw?" Officer Hillary asked a curious look on his face. "You were drunk, Yolanda. You could have misread or misheard something. 

"That's very unlikely," Yolanda retorted. "Come on, man. You were there with me!"

There was a long silence. Yolanda tapped her finger against the side of her chin, as she always did when she was plotting or scheming. 

"You know what?" She said after a long pause. "Maybe you're right. We're probably just making a mountain out of a molehill. I should focus on work and put all of these behind me for now."

Officer Hillary's eyes began to glow. He had waited a very long time to hear those exact words. 

"That's my girl!" He beamed. "To be honest, I was beginning to think I'd have to recommend you to my therapist."

Yolanda frowned. She detested the suggestion at once. 

"What's new in the genocide case?" She asked, changing the topic. "Any witnesses yet?"

Officer Hillary heaved a sigh. "Looks like we need to push a little harder on the suspect."

"That's fine," Yolanda said. "I'll come to talk to him myself."

"Great."

Officer Hillary turned to walk away. 

"Grab me some lunch when you go for your lunch break, will you?" Yolanda called after him. 

She did not receive a response immediately but she knew better than anyone else that she wasn't going to have to remind Charles to bring her lunch when it was time. 

Yolanda forced her mind to return back to work at once. She was punching on the keys of the keyboard, going through the details of the case she was handling when a lanky police officer approached her booth. 

"Is there a problem?" Yolanda asked without looking up. 

"There's a mail here for you," The officer said. "The mailman brought it and left almost immediately. He insisted that the mail be read by you at once. He sounded pretty urgent if you ask me."

Yolanda looked up, a puzzled expression on her face. She reached out and collected the mail from the police officer. "Thank you."

Alone once again, Yolanda cut through the seal of the mail, opening it. She stared at the first few lines in horror, wondering what the hell it meant. She felt a chilly sensation in her spine as she fell back on her seat.