Dillan Blight: Paranormal Detective

August 17, 2008

Dillan wove down a side street, getting some distance from the confrontation before finding a set of back-steps from some building to sit on. He leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes, trying to drown out the complaints echoing through far too much of his body at this point. He gave himself a few minutes to wallow in the pain, then forced his eyes back open and pulled out the wallet he had grabbed.

Conveniently, the man carried cash. $143 worth of it, in fact. Dillan went ahead and tucked that into his pocket. Only fair as payment for saving the man, after all. The ID wasn’t any help. Local, high quality, but a fake all the same. Alan Robertson might have been the man’s real name, but Dillan doubted it. Nothing else in the wallet had a name. In fact, the id was the only card in it. Dillan tossed it aside with a sigh.

The slightly metalic sound of it hitting the ground drew his attention back to the wallet. “Tink?” Dillan pushed himself up and moved to pick the wallet up. He felt along the edges and font the metal pin in the lining. A light tug slipped it free and opened up a small compartment in the wallets lining. Dillan tapped the contents out onto the ground.

The small picture of himself in the set didn’t make Dillan happy. Telephoto lens, him leaving the office. Roof across the street, most likely from the angle. They’d had him under surveillance, apparently. But the two suits hadn’t been in on it at that point if they needed a reference shot. There was also a business card sized bit of cardboard with a strange symbol on it in what very much looked like blood. Dillan held it up, examined the empty back-side of the card, then looked back at the symbol again. It had the same feel as the others. So these were in fact goons of the man weilding the dead. That was good. He really didn’t need multiple angles on this one. Just one guy to shake down would be plenty enough.

That did raise the question though. What was the card for? His first guess would be to identify the man so the creatures wouldn’t attack him. But obviously, if that was what it did, then it wasn’t working. Dilllan frowned, staring at it for another minute before finally shaking his head and tucking it into his pocket as well. Worth keeping around, at least, until he could sort it out.

Dillan levered himself back upright. Maybe there was a print shop on the way north. He could fax the symbol off to the Bookworm and see if he could dig anything up. Assuming he’d take another raincheck on payment this time around… Also, there was something to be said about any excuse to stop moving for a few minutes. The extra attention to his damaged leg was not going over well. It had turned from a slow throb to a nice white hot, constant burning anytime he was in motion. And it felt a bit wet. He probably should have checked the stitches,  but really, there wasn’t anything to be done about it right now.

Dillan sighed. He had a feeling there would be some angry calls from the insurance agency again after this case. Hopefully he could talk them into keeping him on, anyway. Getting a new insurance carier in his line of work was never much fun. Dillan shoved that to the back of his head and started limping heavily up the street again. “I need a vacation…”

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