11:36 AM, October 8th, 2009
Santine Marley, one of the best detectives in her league, rang the doorbell for a third time, letting the sound of the bell ring around her. It was getting annoying. Santine’s hair, having been dyed many times, was currently a fiery red with more yellowish tips and orange streaks. Her roots, however, were her natural dark brown. She sported a black, not leather, jacket and a simple white shirt and dark jeans. You wouldn’t think of her as a cop unless you looked into her eyes, dark orbs of midnight blue. They burned with a passion of putting criminals in their place and she was known to be fierce, despite her small size.
She was leaning partially against her partner in justice, Archer Daugherty. Her partner, always the gentlemen, didn’t make any move to push Marley off, even though he hated being so close to her. He was a tall man, tanned with rough hands and a few scars on his face and arms from being mauled by an Ursaring a few years ago. His hair was cropped short and a dusty light brown. His eyes were a light brown, one that expressed the feeling that few could see.
They pair waited for the door to be answered by Mr. and Mrs. Everhart, the patents of Shea. Even though they already knew who was responsible for the crimes committed against the young girl, it was routine to ask parents and loved ones who could have hurt her. Jarrod and Kimberley Everhart were well known around the area for their good deeds and their large, beautiful house. The door to their house was a rare wood and had been painted and earthy red.
Marley straightened up quickly when the door started to open, revealing a young woman. She wore simple sweats and a baggy t-shirt.
“Um, how may I help you?” she asked in a soft, inferior tone. Judging by the way she was dressed and acted, she must have been a maid.
Archer flashed the brunette his police badge, a mostly gold and blue badge with the letters SVU underneath it. “We’re here to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Everhart,” he explained when the maid’s dark skin paled.
“Uh, right this way please,” she said, holding the door open for Daugherty and Marley. The detectives hurried into the decorated house, and they saw what the big fuss was about. A large painting of a very peaceful looking Glaceon and Umbreon greeted them. The painting was very realistic, showing every fiber of icy fur on Glaceon and every faint ray the rings Umbreon created in the bright sunlight. They were on a red and white picnic blanket and Umbreon’s eyes were closed as the Moonlight Pokémon leaned against, what the detectives could guess, his mate.
Archer pointed out the picture to the maid. “Who painted that?” he asked. Archer was one for the beauty of the arts and loved to collect rare paintings for his own home.
“One of the other servants here. He and his Smeargle are paid to paint pictures of the Everhart’s Pokémon,” the maid responded hesitantly. “Speaking of the Everhart’s, they are just upstairs and the first door on the left is their art room. They should be there.”
Marley nodded, taking her partner’s hand and dragging him up the stairs to find the Everharts, deep in conversation.
“Excuse me,” Marley said, knocking on the dark wood that framed the doorway. She flashed her badge to the married couple when Mr. Everhart stood up abruptly.
“Who let you in?” the middle-aged man said angrily. He wasn’t all that tall, more of round. And even not that round. A stocky, middle-aged man with slightly graying brown hair and two squinty brown eyes.
“One of your maids,” Daugherty replied, shrugging. “And please, sir, I think you’d better sit down for this.” Santine shook her head a bit angrily at her partner and stepped forward, introducing herself and Daugherty.
“I am Santine Marley and this is my partner, Archer Daugherty. We are from the Special Victims Unit,” she said in a calm voice, looking much more at ease in this situation then Archer, despite him having been in the force for much longer than the woman.
Mr. Everhart stumbled back to his seat, taking his wife’s hand carefully. “Is someone hurt? Why weren’t we called?” Mrs. Everhart fretted.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. You weren’t called immediately since you have… disowned your daughter. But we still feel that you should know,” Daugherty said calmly, choosing words carefully as to not upset the upscale mother.
Mr. Everhart took in a deep breath, as if he really didn’t want to hear anything about his daughter. Mrs. Everhart’s eyes widened.
“Shea Everhart was assaulted last night and raped. She is currently staying in the YelloWind Hospital,” Marley informed the parents. “She’s going to be fine; she just has some minor wounds.”
Mrs. Everhart let out a sigh of relief. “And the child?” Mrs. Everhart was much more slim than her husband and had the appearance of some sort fire spirit. Her hair, much like her daughter’s, was a red-brown that contained more red than brown. Her skin was slightly tanned as well and her eyes were the color of a polished jade stone. The dress she wore was a slightly brighter shade of that same green jade, and fir her figure perfectly. Despite her age, she looked strangely young.
Mr. Everhart frowned at his wife’s words. “Honey, we’ve talked about that. They child is better off dead.”
Archer frowned, looking at Santine quickly. “What do you mean?” the detective asked hesitantly. Mr. Everhart responded quicker than the detectives had time to process his response.
“Our daughter went and got pregnant with a homeless man’s child at a very young age. We told her to abort the child, but she refused to listen and now look at her!” His hard, angry face took a reddish hue, showing his frustration at his daughter.
Santine frowned, her fiery eyes showing worry. “You don’t care that your own daughter was raped!?” she demanded, her small, well-manicured hands balling into fists. Archer placed one of his hands on his partner’s tiny shoulder, holding her back.
Mrs. Everhart looked away from Santine’s angry glare, but Mr. Everhart stood tall when his accuser faced him.
“There’s only one man that I would know that could have raped my daughter, and that’s the Vine Rapist,” Mr. Everhart snapped. “And he only goes after young, pregnant teens. Therefore, it is Shea’s fault.” Jarrod Everhart closed his eyes, shaking his head in disrespect for the detectives. “You know who did this. We don’t need to be involved.”
There was a short silence after Mr. Everhart’s final words. Daugherty and Marley shared another quick look before dismissing themselves and hurrying out of the house, and away from the Everharts. It was quite obvious that they didn’t want to help their daughter.
But, after sitting in their car and discussing something of little importance, a habit that Marley frequently showed, the two detectives noticed that someone was hurrying out of the large house.
After taking a closer look, Daugherty recognized the willowy figure of Kimberley Everhart. He tapped at the steamed window, drawing the chatty Marley to look in that discretion as well. Kimberley now wore a dark brown jacket over her fitted dress and a floppy gray hat to cover her wild red hair.
The victim’s mother quickly advanced the car that Archer and Santine sat, knocking on the window hesitantly with her right hand. Her left hand was still hidden in her coat.
Santine, having been seated on the opposite side of where Mrs. Everhart had knocked, got out of the car and rested her arms and elbows on the car. “Are you going to help us, ma’am? Or ***** at us some more,” she asked. “I think you’re husband already did that for you.”
Kimberley sighed, looking defeated. “Yes, uhh… No, I mean. I’ll help you.” Her words were quick, worried. Like she was afraid her husband would catch her talking to the police. “It’s not much, though.” She stepped back onto the sidewalk, keeping her eyes on the ground.
Archer then slid out of the car, standing only a few feet away from Shea’s mother. Santine gracefully walked over to stand besides her partner, looking tiny in comparison. “Alright,” she said simply. “Please, tell us everything you know.”
Kimberly Everhart took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a few moments. She opened her eyes, staring directly at Archer before turning her gaze to Santine. “Like I said, it’s not much. And it’s hardly even information.”
“Anything is helpful,” Archer Daugherty said kindly. She smiled, flashing her white teeth.
“It’s just a Pokeball,” Kimberly admitted sheepishly. She quickly explained herself she noticed the confused looks on the detectives’ faces. “Neb gave it to me, before he left. He didn’t even give me a reason why he left or anything, but he told me that whoever is inside this Pokeball can help me find him. He told me to only locate him if something big happened. To Shea.”
“I didn’t chose to find him when we found out Shea was pregnant, mainly because it was only a few days after he left,” the mother explained, smiling sadly. “My husband hates Neb the way only a father could. He’s actually a very sweet boy. I still don’t know why he left.”
“We have reason to believe that Neb is traveling with a man named Lackar Rouge,” Marley explained, resting her hand gently on the woman’s shoulder. She looked like she was about to cry. “According to Shea’s Espeon, that is. Lackar Rouge is wanted for several assaults, so we need to find him too.”
Mrs. Everhart nodded weakly. “I… I see,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please, take the Pokeball. Neb promised me that I could find him if I needed to.”
Santine took the red and white orb from her trembling hands. “Would you like to see your daughter?” she asked softly.
“I’ll visit later tonight,” she replied swiftly. “After my husband has left for the football game, I’ll see her…”
“She’s staying at the YelloWind Hospital, room 216,” Archer said encouragingly.
Mrs. Everhart smiled sadly.