Hey Writer Bees! Sorry, I’m a bit busy and sick this week, so no writing advice post today. Instead, here’s a short story inspired by this week’s prompt of the week. For more exclusive stories, or if you just want to support a starving writer like me, check out the Patreon. Coming out with new goals and reward tiers soon, so stay tuned. Hope you guys enjoy this story!

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“I’m sorry… What were your names again?”

“Jonathan Cobalt, pleasure to meet you, son.” His handshake was far too aggressive. My wrist almost snapped. The man tossed a moon-eye glance towards his lady companion. “And this darling doll is Dorothy Pink. My angel. The spring in my step. The…-“

 “Oh honey, stop it.” With a playful giggle, the young lady caressed his dark blue tie. Her dress was a pretty lilac number, adored with beads and sequins. Those two must’ve came straight from some ritzy event. They couldn’t take their eyes off each other. Leaning over, Miss Pink gave one big smooch, leaving him with a lipstick stained cheek. “He’s a real charmer. I adore him.”

“Ain’t she a peach, fellas?” His proud grin was infectious. Like chicken pocks. “Yeah, sure.” I agreed, with a shrug. Usually, we get some shady characters, these lovebirds, all twinkly and bright, were a nice change of pace. What screwball names, though. I stifled a laughed. My employer did not seem to find the humor in their names.

“Mr. Cobalt and Miss Pink,” The detective pressed on. “You require my assistance for something?” His narrowed eyes hid under thick eyebrows. All this lovey-dovey stuff was making him sick. 

With a snap of his fingers, Mister Cobalt remembered he was in a Private Detective’s office and not a hotel room at the Plaza. “Oh yes! That’s right! Show them the letter, sweetheart.”

Out of her cleavage, Miss Pink pulled out a small, square envelope. She handed it to me. The paper felt warm. I quickly passed it over to the detective. With a dramatic sigh, her fingers intertwined with her lover’s. “Someone’s been sending me such awful notes. Lately, they’ve become more and more threatening. I’m worried.”

Eager to jump to the rescue for his princess. “Don’t worry, angel. I’m sure a professional detective can take care of this in no time. He’s the real McCoy.”

Mr. Cooper read over the note carefully. I tried to glance over his shoulder. Messy cursive writing, warning Miss Pink to watch her back. Creep. “Do you have any idea who would send you this letter?” 

“It could be my ex-beau. He was the jealous type. His name Mr. Vernon Greene, from Staten Island.”I chuckled to myself. Wouldn’t you laugh too? Mister Cobalt and Miss Pink needed help finding Mister Greene. What are the odds? When did I leave Coney Island to go to Wonderland? What’s next? The Red Queen storming into the office? “You think you can find him, Mister Drooper?” 

“Detective Cooper.” My boss corrected. 

“Sometimes, they call him Mister Purple and me Mister Orange.” I mumbled the joke under my breath, trying to contain my laughter. I couldn’t resist. 

He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Oscar…” He warned. “It’s not that funny.” 

I burst out laughing.