"Stupid stripper heels..."

Gritting her teeth, Lorraine desperately tried to maintain her balance on these glorified stilts. She'd never even attempted to wear anything aside from flats prior to today, and this experience definitely reinforced her appreciation of proper footwear.

"Quit complaining, we're almost there," Denise mumbled as she took her sister's hand.

"You're not the one whose feet are about to fall off," Lorraine replied. "Or the one whose eyes feel like they're covered in powdered glass."

Footwear from hell and torture contacts. What a disgustingly masochistic combination.

"Or the one who's being eye-raped by everyone we pass by," she sighed.

"That's the entire point," Denise replied. "Use your sex appeal to wrap him around your little finger, Mom."

"Ugh..."

Lorraine habitually placed a finger to the bridge of her nose, only to be reminded of the absence of the glasses that should have been there.

"I dunno why you think that having me go full 'Business MILF' is gonna make him more willing to help us out."

"He's a guy, guys all think with their dicks, and this guy is a private dick so that goes double for him."

"........."

Lorraine shot Denise an especially nasty look for that stupid joke.

"Haven't you seen any noir detective movies?" Denise asked.

"No."

"Shaft?"

"You know I'm not into that stuff."

"Well trust me when I say that looking like you are right now, you're practically a dream client."

Her words were of course in no way assuring.

"I mean I would do it myself, but you're the one with the tits."

She then reached up to give her Lorraine's swelling chest a little poke, but her hand was quickly swatted away.

"...open the top buttons too," Denise said while massaging the stinging sensation out of her hand.

"You can't be serious," Lorraine groaned.

"We need to increase the success rate by as much as possible. So hurry up and put that cleavage on display."

----------

The closer they got to their destination, the fewer words were exchanged between the two sisters. And by the time they reached the front door of the building where the detective office was located, the tension of their current situation had completely overwhelmed them.

CLACK CLACK CLACK

Heels against tile.

CLACK CLACK CLACK

Step by step.

CLACK CLACK CLACK

Like drums sounding out their final moments.

----------

CLICK

"Umm, hello...?"

The first thing Lorraine noticed upon entering the office was how dim it was. It wasn't enough to really affect visibility since it was still the middle of the day, but it was definitely noticeable.

It's kinda like one of those old movies...

Her gaze then shifted towards the desk centered near the rear of the office. And the person who was sitting behind it.

Wearing a dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a double-layered vest over that, he was slightly hunched over the desk while using an arm to support his posture.

It was definitely a look befitting Lorraine's preconceptions of what a private detective was, and the fedora pretty much sealed the deal...

...and then their eyes met.

Wait a minute-

"Is there something I can help you with?" the man called out in a deep voice that was awfully close to a growl.

"Er-" Lorraine stammered. "I could have sworn I had the right address..."

She quickly brought out her smartphone and checked to make sure she didn't mess up. Because while the man behind the desk definitely dressed in a similar manner to the owner of the Severin Detective Agency that she'd painstakingly researched, well...

...Nathaniel Severin was decidedly black.

And this mystery detective(?) was decidedly not.

"...is this the Severin Detective Agency?" Lorraine asked, checking her phone for a tenth time just to make double super extra sure.

"Yeah, you have the right place," the young detective replied with a curt nod.

"Oh thank God..."

She allowed her shoulders to drop down as a wave of relief washed over her.

"Are you Mr. Severin's partner, then?" she asked, making a guess at the most likely conclusion. "Do you know when he'll be back in?"

"......"

Seeing the way that he lowered the brim of his hat over his eyes gave Lorraine a really bad feeling.

"Sorry to tell you this, but he passed away last year."

"Wha!?" she gasped. "He-"

"Yeah, last April."

"Oh no no no no..."

What the hell are we supposed to do now!? The most trustworthy person I could find related to this crazy bullshit died a YEAR ago!?

Lorraine was trying her best not to panic, but the prospect of having lost this final possibility had her at wit's end.

N... no, I can't give up hope. If I do then Dad would've died for nothing, and Denise'll be-

"But even though I'll never be able to fill his shoes..."

The man's words pulled her from her thoughts and back into reality.

"...I'm still carrying on this detective agency in his memory," he said, lifting his hat back up.

His words are sincere...

Lorraine finally stopped pacing and gave the man a once-over.

"The name's Neil Schneider," he said. "Is there something you needed help with?"

"Er..."

A cautious offer of assistance.

"Yes," she nodded. "Yes there is."

She looked back at her sister, who promptly took her hand and gave it a little squeeze as if to tell her to keep pressing on.

Alright. Just like we practiced.

As per Denise's plan, Lorraine was to act in the role of "a MILF in distress" while the smaller girl pretended to be her daughter. The idea of a mother in need would allegedly appeal to the detective's masculine protective urges as well as his righteous sense of justice, thus making it easier for them to get assistance without having to give up too much personal information...

One thing before you continue," Neil interjected.

"Eh!?"

Before she was even able to get into half of her cover story, the look on the detective's face and the timbre of his voice and even his posture screamed that he was not buying it in any way.

If nothing else, this confirmed his skills as a detective.

"When it comes to clients," he said, "I have one rule that absolutely needs to be followed. No exceptions."

"...yes?" Lorraine gulped.

"Total, 100% honesty."

He stared into her eyes with the look of a predator who had just cornered his prey.

"I'm sure you can understand that my line of business can get pretty dangerous, right?" he asked.

"Y- yes, of course!" she squeaked out.

"Well I'm not so nice a guy as to stick my neck out for someone who isn't telling me the truth. Or someone who's withholding important details that I really ought to know about their situation."

Full eye contact, the entire time. He gave no ground, declared his terms, and it was clear that any attempts at subterfuge would fail utterly.

".........I understand."

Giving up to the butterflies in her stomach, Lorraine offered up both her real name and that of her sister. And while Denise clearly didn't agree with this course of action, it's not as if there was any alternative.

"My sister and I have caught the attention of some dangerous people, and we're seriously fearful for our lives," she said to the detective.

"Which is what brought you here," Neil replied.

"That's right."

"Mind telling me what exactly you did to attract this attention?" he asked.

"........."

There was no getting around it if they wanted Neil's help. Both sisters knew this.

"My coperation is dependent on your answer," Neil continued. "I might be in the business of helping people, but I'm not about to get involved with anything without fully understanding the situation first."

"Don't be a sucka for a pretty face!"

"!?"

Baffled by that sudden high-pitched outburst, both Lorraine and Denise traced the sound to its source...

...a bird who neither one of them had noticed perched atop the detective's chair this entire time.

"...oh yeah," Neil smirked, "I forgot to introduce him."

"...a parrot?" Denise mumbled.

"This is Ankh, my right hand."

A detective's right hand... parrot? One that offers advice?

Their situation was already bizarre enough, but somehow this of all things was what finally began to chip away at the prison of nervousness that Lorraine had been trapped inside for so long.

"Hello, Ankh," she said, not even trying to keep from smiling.

So cute...

"But back to the matter at hand..." Neil cleared his throat in an failed attempt to mask his amusement.

"Y- yes, of course."

Thanks for the confidence boost, little birb.

Shoot straight and hide nothing. Since this guy clearly values honesty, she resolved to be as honest as it gets.

"Our situation... it wasn't caused by anything that either one of us did."

"Is that right?" Neil raised an eyebrow.

"......"

Lorraine finally gave up. On holding back her anger at everything that happened and everything that she'd lost.

"...it's because of what we are," she growled.

And without even intending to, she returned the same piercing gaze that he'd been intimidating her with just moments ago.

"Branch holders, just like you."

"Heh heh..."

The detective's cold gaze warped into a wide-eyed stare, and his closed mouth twisted into a grin that bared his canines for all the world to see.

It only lasted for a split second, but the message was delivered loud and clear.

Threaten me and it'll be the last thing you ever do.