The Write Service (Part 1)

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Dear readers and Noodles, please welcome our guest writer JoymomentsSISTER! *breaks into loud applause* Grace has kindly written a one shot that crosses over with my characters from Mr. Write!

I'm excited because I haven't even read this so I will be reading right along with you and commenting! So! See you in the comments!

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The tall grandfather clock in the foyer rang out, announcing that it was now nine o'clock in the evening. The only occupant to hear barely noticed the chiming as she sat with her nose pressed against the front window, her breath fogging up the glass. Her eyes were fixed on the dark street below.

At this time of night, Charles Street was quiet. The business people were already home and tucked in with their families and the street offered no nightlife. It was all the better for Cece as she kept her gaze glued to the street, watching for a single person.

Five minutes passed, and she checked her watch. They were running late. She looked down at her notebook, scanning her log of times to make sure she had the right time, but she knew she had the right time.

It had been five past the hour every hour for the last two weeks. She looked back down at the street and smiled as a single figure rounded the corner from Revere Street and slowly started walking up Charles Street. Cece grinned in delight. It was go time.

She quickly glanced down at the sleek black briefcase at her feet and felt her coat pocket to make sure she had everything. She looked back out the window and watched as the person nonchalantly walked to the Hal's and Son's Painters van parked across the street from her house and climbed it. They made it too easy.

She reached for the fake pair of glasses sitting on the windowsill and put them on. She moved to the small mirror beside the front door and quickly checked her tight, neat bun. She was grabbing the briefcase when she heard footsteps on the front stairs. Someone put a key in the lock and a moment later her sister opened the front door.

"I will admit I am enjoying Proust..." Cece's sister Elliot said, as she stepped into the house followed by her boyfriend. They didn't notice Cece.

"Ha!" Beck said, "I knew you would."

"I did not say..." But they never found out what Elliot did not say because she turned to find Cece and stopped. "Perfect, Cece can help us with this debate."

"Actually, I can't," Cece said, breezing past them and out the door.

"But..." the words were lost when Elliot took in Cece's full attire. "Cece, why are you wearing slacks and a trench coat?"

"And why are you carrying a briefcase?" Beck asked.

"Murder mystery party?" Elliot asked, her eyes brightening.

Cece straightened her glasses as she gave them a serious look. "Something like that. Have fun you two."

She didn't wait for any more questions as she continued down the stairs but no more questions would have followed. She could hear Elliot and Beck return to their argument about Proust as they shut the front door.

She hit the sidewalk and paused to take a deep breath. All her planning from the last week came down to this moment. She squared her shoulders and walked with determined authority towards the van. This was going to work or she would most likely end up shot.

Without giving herself enough time to think about the last option, she opened the back sliding door of the van and quickly climbed in, slamming the door shut behind her. When she looked up she was met by the barrels of two guns.

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