The Unlikely Detective (Part 1)

“Come on dad! There’s something I gotta show you!”
“Coming honey. Man, for a girl who is supposed to be sick, you’re pretty damn fast.”

We where in the museum in San Francisco, around the early afternoon. The security guards were posed in a casual posture, defiantly implying that they knew the routine all too well as many excited children clamored past them on a field trip with eyes aglow. In other words, a perfect afternoon for a young teenager to spend time with her dad as they took in the sights. At least, that is what it appeared to be. In reality it was a super secret covert investigation that was so secret, and so covert that not even the real agent was even aware of it.

“Okay I’m here sweetie, so what is the big thing that we had to book a flight, hotel and bus fair to see?” my dad inquired impatiently.

I smiled. He had no idea what he was in for. Overhearing things that you’re not meant to hear can hurt. Make you cry, curse, and swear a make you question everything you knew. Needless to say I did a bit off all of the above when I found out that death was now stalking me like an inevitable shadow. Yet after that, it was time to stare death in the eye, spit in the other, and do something with my life. My destiny was to help my dad bust this creep, and wasn’t going to leave this beautiful earth until then.

As it turns out, I had a knack for being a Nancy Drew wannabe. From the information I was able to glean from that initial call, and few others my dad made while on the flight here, the perpetrator stole a ring, a pot, and a scroll. So I googled the museums where the artifacts were stolen, and discovered that they’re linked historically! Big whoop right? Ah, but the items can be traced to a specific influential family during the Sengoku Jidai, or Era of Warring States, 1467-1600(inserted!~KED), which name I really can’t pronounce. I guess that is why for the most part they’ve disappeared from the history books.
The rest gets really sketchy with the whole hocus pocus stuff, but the fact remains that this fan was also a possession of the family, in particular of a daughter who was married to an individual that has long since disappeared from the history books. If my sources are correct this bugler (I still don’t buy into the whole ninja crap) will come after this relic next.

Under the innocent pretense of writing a history paper for class I reviled as much about the item (minus the whole eavesdropping and private investigator part). For being a secret agent type my dad has a real terrible poker face, for not only did his eyes widen his smile as though he won the lottery and hugged me tightly. “Sweetie you must excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back for…”

“James Bond stuff?” I asked nonchalantly.
“James Bond stuff.” He repeated while kissing me on the forehead. “Love you.”
“Love you too dad.”With that my dad left the exhibit, and standard to my trade I closed my eyes and listened. I couldn’t wait to hear this conversation.