Dedicated to zoe_xoxo13

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A/N• Hello guys! What's up? I hope you are having a wonderful Monday! (yes, I know that it's Monday I'm talking about)

• So I've decided to write my Author's notes at the beginning of the chapter. Don't ask me why. I don't really have a reason why as to doing so XD

• Thank you so much for getting this book to hit #125 in Mystery-Thriller!! I can't wipe the smile off of my face! :D

• Note: I started another book called 'Dear Readers' and I hope you take the time to look at it. The chapters aren't long and there are only two of them so far, so don't worry :)

• Without further ado, I present to you the beginning of Act Two. Don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed reading this chapter :)

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A C T   I I

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           “PEREZ!” JOHNSON'S FEET carried him as fast as they could. He was racing down the main lobby of the mall, nearing the entrance. “Perez! I'm here! Where are you?”

              In an out of breath voice, she replied. “I'm in the parking lot! Hurry!”

             The investigator ran out of the building as he tried to spot Perez. Of all days, why did it have to be today that he forgot to wear his contacts?

             A car whizzed past him nearly knocking him over. As he stumbled backwards, he heard Perez yell from behind him and not his phone. “Follow that car!”  

              The investigator complied. His feet carried out the order given by his partner as he chased after the car. It was a black van with tinted windows, the body of the car decorated with graffiti.

               Johnson picked up the pace as he started to catch up to the car. His hair was now shaped by the wind and his breathing rate had increased, however, he maintained a neutral expression.
             Suddenly, the back of the van opened up and Johnson identified a large black object being hurled at his way. He veered to the left, successfully avoiding the object.

             The van had now increased its speed after it made a sharp left, leaving Johnson coughing due to the smoke it was emitting. 

              From the top of his lungs, Johnson hollered, “Don't let it through! Don't let that black van leave the premise!”

             The van slowed down to put the parking ticket into the machine so that it would be let through. There was a small booth that was a few feet away from it and the man inside peered his head through the door.

            “What?” He shouted.

            “I said, don't let the black van—”

             Johnson ran right into a pole.

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              Pain.

              All Johnson could register was pain...and laughter?

               Slowly, the investigator's eyes fluttered open as the pain began to increase. The areas which seemed to be throbbing formed a straight line, right from his forehead to his lips.

             Perez was the first person he was able to identify. She was kneeling down beside him, her left hand nursing the back of his head while the other was pressing something cool against his skin.

              He could feel his skin tingle. “Perez,”

              “They got away, Johnson,” She replied, looking down at him with an expression that he did not know.

                “They?” He repeated. Suddenly, he groaned as montages of what happened in the last one hour flashed through his mind. “Oh,”

                Johnson heaved himself of the tarmacked ground and sat up. “What happened?”

               “You ran smack into a pole,” She said, trying her hardest not to laugh. “And you were out cold,”

               “Damn it,”

               “And no wonder. The momentum you were running at must have made you black out. You hit the pole so hard that you actually staggered backwards before collapsing,” Perez finally let out her laugh.

                Her hands were still on Johnson and he could feel her body tremble and shake with laughter. “I swear, that is the funniest thing I've ever seen,”

               “Would you please forget about what happened? This stays between us,” His voice strained at the ‘us’ part.

                “Don't worry. My lips are sealed, Johnson,”

               “Did you get anything on the glasses?”

                The ‘glasses’ that he reminded Perez to wear when they got to the mall looked ordinary, at a first glance. However, they were equipped with a camera lens where you could take pictures or even a video, but to others, it would seem like you were adjusting your glasses over your face.

              This was another reason why he brought Perez along. She knew a guy who made these gadgets.

               “I took a picture of the number plate,”  Perez removed her hand from behind Johnson's neck in order to remove the glasses. “Along with a few pictures and a video, but I'm sure the pictures are blurry and the video won't help us in any way,”

               “Doesn't the mall have surveillance cameras all around?” Johnson asked, as his mind was racing. “Come to think of it, isn't the whole town under surveillance as we speak?”

                 “You genius!” Perez exclaimed. She removed her other hand from Johnson's forehead to remove the glasses from her face. He learned that she was using a cold cloth to ease the pain. “It would be as simple as flashing our badges to get through the mall security. But how are we going to get to the town's? Isn't it only the government that's allowed to see that stuff?”

                “Also the FBI, even though most of the time, it's classified and they may refuse us to use it,” Johnson replied. “But if I can talk to the Prime Minister, it wouldn't be much of a problem for us to get in,”

                 “Us?” She echoed. “You mean, the two of us?”

                 “What else would I mean?” The investigator got onto his feet, before dusting off himself. “Unless you have something else to do—”

                 “No!” Perez said, quickly. “Well, yes, I do have something else to work on but I'm nearly done. I could make some time,”

                “Great,” Johnson smiled briefly at her before scanning the perimeter. “Now that you are helping me, you can tell me how I am going to tell Mr and Mrs Martinez that their daughter has been kidnapped,”

                 “I will,” Perez stood up, her eyes on the object that was thrown at Johnson. She walked past Johnson and stooped down low to pick it up. “This is an electric guitar and it looks in good shape...almost brand new,”

              “You know what that means,” Johnson caught up to her, trying to read the brand name of the guitar. “We have a lot of places to hit and cover,”

               Perez began to count off her fingers. “The mall. The Prime Minister's house. Isabella's parents' house. And all the instrumental stores in town. Am I missing anything?”

              “The children's home,”

              “The children's home?”

              “Yes. Mrs Martinez mentioned that Isabella's best friend was a girl named Dawn, but I noticed that she wasn't with Isabella today. Dawn lives in a children's home a few houses down Isabella's. Maybe she can shed some light to this case,”

              “Speaking of Isabella's friends...the brunettes she came with are still in the mall, oblivious to what has just happened. We better get back to them before they start to worry,”

               “Good idea,”

               The two began to walk back into the mall just as Perez handed the cold cloth back to the man in the booth from earlier on.

               “Hey, are those glasses actually prescribed with medicine?” Johnson asked, looking at Perez.

               “You know they aren't,”

               “It was worth a shot. That's the last time I forget to wear my contacts,”

               “How didn't you see the pole?”

              “I just didn't, okay? Stop laughing already!”

              “I can't!”

•

                “Unbelievable,” The investigator muttered to himself as soon as he got home. The case for his contacts was on the table, as if patiently waiting for his arrival.

                  After making sure his hands were clean, he put them on. Finally, he could see the world, even though it was through a lens.

                 It was now four in the afternoon. He and Perez had informed the Martinez's and Isabella's friends of Isabella's disappearance. They had gotten the security footage and were able to identify the car that the perpetrators had driven off in.

               Unfortunately, their faces were blurred and Johnson knew that to be able to enhance the pictures to see who the kidnappers were, he would need a high-tech computer.

               In other words, he needed to go to work tomorrow.

              He let out a groan. It was high time he would update his boss on the progress he was making, anyway. 

              After going to work, he planned to visit both the children's home that Dawn lived in and the instrumentals stores around town. The guitar brand was ‘Fender’, a very popular one in the market.

              The investigator went into the kitchen to drink water. On his second glass, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

              Johnson pulled it out from his pocket. He frowned. This was the phone which had no contacts except 911 and the Korean restaurant that was a few blocks from his house.

             “Hello?”

             “Is this Frank Johnson?”

              The man nearly fell over. This was all too familiar to him. There was only one thing that he needed to check first. He glanced at the caller's ID.

               It was an unknown number. This confirmed his theory. “Who is this? Who are you?”

               “Names are simply labels, no matter what size they come in. Your label is 'a failure' since you failed to keep an eye on Melrose Academy's Cinderella,”

                “What is this? A riddle?”

               “Yes. And in it, is your next clue. But hurry. Time's-a-wastin’,”