Red

Chapter Two: Sleeping Beauty

----------SIX WEEKS EARLIER----------

I jogged into the precinct, one hand carrying a warm coffee cup, and the other toting a small grey garbage bag. 

"Red Benedict?" I turned to see Dorothy at the railing of the second-floor balcony. "Gran's waiting for you." 

I walked slowly, sipping my coffee, and disposed of the trash bag in the nearest garbage can. 

Once up the stairs, I headed to the right, to where the detectives resided. 

From the first desk, Goldie looked up scornfully. "Can't you read the sign? It says 'detectives'. Not 'wannabe teenagers'." 

"It also doesn't say 'burglars' but here you are." I threw my empty cup into the garbage can at Goldie's feet. "Besides, Gran's called me in for a case." 

Goldie blustered and ignored me, and I continued on to Gran's office. High-tech screens covered every inch of the walls and computers dominated the floor space. In the center of the room, there was a large round wooden table with several metal chairs, and there stood a tall boy with wavy, sandy-blond hair, grey glasses, and a quick smirk. Gran, short for Greydan. 

"Hey Gran," I smiled. 

Gran rolled his eyes. "Red, punctual as always." 

"Like you can talk. When we were kids, your mother set your alarm clock half an hour earlier than everyone elses', and you were still late." 

The detectives around the table laughed, and Gran gestured for me to sit down. 

"I called Red in because she has a lot of real-world experience we don't, and she has raw talent," Gran began. Although he was only two months older than me, being homeschooled allowed him to finish school and get a job far faster than the average teen. His pure genius gave him an edge and by the time he was seventeen, he had a job as a computer forensics expert for the Department of Magical Policing in Greater Grimmsville and even headed a few of his own cases. 

I smiled. 

"She also doesn't have to go through the red tape we have to," Ginger pointed out, his mechanical limbs creaking. 

Gran nodded. "That's true. So here's the case; we all know Rosamund Briar, Castle Hill royalty, heir to nearly a billion dollars and Perrault Estate, right." Images flashed on the screen of a smiling blonde, Castle Hill, and the Perrault Estate. "She went missing last night from a party and was found unconscious this morning. Our officers believe she was drugged and sexually assaulted and then left on the side of Freeway 490. Her family wants to press charges, so we have to find the culprit." 

The detectives murmured amongst themselves. "What does Rosamund think?" Pinocchio asked. 

"Rosamund hasn't woken up yet," Gran responded. 

"I think I know who did this," I muttered, the wheels in my head turning. "If you'll excuse me, I have to talk to an old friend." 

Outside the precinct, I hopped on my motorcycle and took off to Castle Hill. If I was right, if he'd done this... oh, I was going to kill him. 

The Charming Estate was gaudy and gleaming. Since his parent's retirement, Prince Charming had become increasingly unstable, partying and drinking, and collecting harassment charges like children collected baseball cards. 

From the looks of his front lawn, Prince was at it again. It was trashed, covered in God-knows-what from a party the night before. 

I threw open the door. "Charming, what the hell?" 

Charming lazed across a throne, his eyes bloodshot and his hair mussed. He was conventionally attractive but had the manners and attitude of a very drunk frat boy. "Red, looking hot and bothered as always." He grinned sloppily, his words slightly slurred. 

"Where were you last night?" I yanked him upright so he could face me. 

"I threw a major party. You should have stopped by." 

"And did you..." I trailed off, unsure how to ask this. "Did you..." 

"I mean, Rosie and I had a fun time last night." He smiled at the memory. 

"Did you sleep with her?"

"Why, you jealous?" 

"Did she consent, Charming? Or did you drug her?" 

"Well," he leaned forward, his cocky grin still on his face. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "She never said no." 

I hauled him, kicking and screaming, onto her motorcycle, where the entire country could hear him hollering about his lawyer. 

My phone rang just as I was crossing the street to the precinct. It was Gran. 

"Gran? What's up?" 

"Red, Rosamund- she's..." 

"She's what, Gran?" 

"She woke up when we got there. She had a bit to eat, and then she just- she started foaming at the mouth- she's gone, Red. Dead. They thinks she was poisoned." 

My blood ran cold. My grip tightened on Charming's arm. "I'll be right there."