phone and looked at the nasty picture again.
Should I call the cops? Or…
On the bright screen flashed a mutilated bald doll head with bloody eyes. The doll’s blood-smeared lips smiled, making it look like a masochist. The red-font message under the image was:
Death to the Daniels. The boy goes first.
If this isn’t a death-threat, then I can strut down any haute-couture catwalk and pose as a supermodel.
In the Uptown, only one famous family was associated with the name Daniels- Jameson Daniels and his son, the boy in the message, Jaiden Daniels, a.k.a. snooty Rich Boy in the red sports car that almost killed Mina.
Asides from being an active political figure, Jameson Daniels owned a corporation, D.L.P., that invested in multiple businesses in the Uptown.
After scourging the web for information, Mina discovered Jameson Daniels’s net worth was eight point eight billion dollars, slated to rise to nine billion before the end of the year.
How many zeroes are in a billion? Sheesh. He wouldn’t think twice about spending fifty-grand to ensure his son’s safety, right?
Jameson Daniels dealt with the Uptown’s budget, finances, and audited city agencies and businesses. He also managed eight hundred city employees-surely not all of them were happy with their affluent and powerful boss.
Naturally, Jameson Daniels had enemies. Even the Mayor could be a suspect since Jameson was a mayoral candidate.
A brilliant idea launched in Mina’s head. Instead of alerting the cops, she decided to handle this threat for the Daniels.
I don’t have what it takes to be Sherlock. But I can be a great bodyguard. Rich Boy could use someone like me by his side to handle blackmailers and kidnappers, the likes.
Mina climbed down the roof and practiced Mina-Jitsu on her front lawn, a form of martial arts she had created. Martial arts was one of Mina’s obsessions. She grew up watching Jackie Chan, Jet Li, and Bruce Lee films with her father. Mina-Jitsu consisted of moves she had stolen/borrowed from the masters in the movies.
After an hour of sparring with the air, Mina belly-flopped down on the grass and closed her eyes.
I hope my plan works. I’d rather have a sex change than lose Daddy’s house to loan sharks.
The next morning, she rode her bike to North Uptown, a gated community in the city where only the wealthy lived.
According to the web sources, Jameson Daniels lived on Eighteen Richmond Lane.
With the plethora of information on the Internet, anyone who could browse the web could become a private detective.
Or a super-stalker.
Mina also discovered how she could easily infiltrate North Uptown without a special pass or an invitation from the inhabitants. All she had to do was pose as a delivery girl. She tied her unruly hair in a thick ponytail. Garbed in a black vest, white shirt, black pants and old black shoes two sizes too small for her chubby feet, Mina looked just like a waitress from a Chinese restaurant. Instead of takeout food, she had Jaiden’s cell phone in a brown paper bag.
She stopped her bike by the guard booth at the gates.
“Welcome to North Uptown. State your business please,” said a bored-looking guard inside the booth. He yawned and poked his head out to study Mina.
“I’m from Phoenix Garden Restaurant. I’m here to deliver food to Eighteen Richmond Lane,” she stuttered. Mina hoped her nose didn’t twitch too much and the guard couldn’t read body language well. She forced herself to look him straight in the eye. A trick she had learned was to stare at the area between a person’s eyes when she didn’t feel comfortable enough to make direct eye contact.
The guard tilted his head. “The Daniels ordered takeout? Strange.” The guard narrowed his eyes. Mina gulped.
“Fine. Go right ahead and take a left on the next street.”
“Thanks.” Mina smiled at the inept guard and biked in through the opened gates toward Richmond Lane. Every home she
Should I call the cops? Or…
On the bright screen flashed a mutilated bald doll head with bloody eyes. The doll’s blood-smeared lips smiled, making it look like a masochist. The red-font message under the image was:
Death to the Daniels. The boy goes first.
If this isn’t a death-threat, then I can strut down any haute-couture catwalk and pose as a supermodel.
In the Uptown, only one famous family was associated with the name Daniels- Jameson Daniels and his son, the boy in the message, Jaiden Daniels, a.k.a. snooty Rich Boy in the red sports car that almost killed Mina.
Asides from being an active political figure, Jameson Daniels owned a corporation, D.L.P., that invested in multiple businesses in the Uptown.
After scourging the web for information, Mina discovered Jameson Daniels’s net worth was eight point eight billion dollars, slated to rise to nine billion before the end of the year.
How many zeroes are in a billion? Sheesh. He wouldn’t think twice about spending fifty-grand to ensure his son’s safety, right?
Jameson Daniels dealt with the Uptown’s budget, finances, and audited city agencies and businesses. He also managed eight hundred city employees-surely not all of them were happy with their affluent and powerful boss.
Naturally, Jameson Daniels had enemies. Even the Mayor could be a suspect since Jameson was a mayoral candidate.
A brilliant idea launched in Mina’s head. Instead of alerting the cops, she decided to handle this threat for the Daniels.
I don’t have what it takes to be Sherlock. But I can be a great bodyguard. Rich Boy could use someone like me by his side to handle blackmailers and kidnappers, the likes.
Mina climbed down the roof and practiced Mina-Jitsu on her front lawn, a form of martial arts she had created. Martial arts was one of Mina’s obsessions. She grew up watching Jackie Chan, Jet Li, and Bruce Lee films with her father. Mina-Jitsu consisted of moves she had stolen/borrowed from the masters in the movies.
After an hour of sparring with the air, Mina belly-flopped down on the grass and closed her eyes.
I hope my plan works. I’d rather have a sex change than lose Daddy’s house to loan sharks.
The next morning, she rode her bike to North Uptown, a gated community in the city where only the wealthy lived.
According to the web sources, Jameson Daniels lived on Eighteen Richmond Lane.
With the plethora of information on the Internet, anyone who could browse the web could become a private detective.
Or a super-stalker.
Mina also discovered how she could easily infiltrate North Uptown without a special pass or an invitation from the inhabitants. All she had to do was pose as a delivery girl. She tied her unruly hair in a thick ponytail. Garbed in a black vest, white shirt, black pants and old black shoes two sizes too small for her chubby feet, Mina looked just like a waitress from a Chinese restaurant. Instead of takeout food, she had Jaiden’s cell phone in a brown paper bag.
She stopped her bike by the guard booth at the gates.
“Welcome to North Uptown. State your business please,” said a bored-looking guard inside the booth. He yawned and poked his head out to study Mina.
“I’m from Phoenix Garden Restaurant. I’m here to deliver food to Eighteen Richmond Lane,” she stuttered. Mina hoped her nose didn’t twitch too much and the guard couldn’t read body language well. She forced herself to look him straight in the eye. A trick she had learned was to stare at the area between a person’s eyes when she didn’t feel comfortable enough to make direct eye contact.
The guard tilted his head. “The Daniels ordered takeout? Strange.” The guard narrowed his eyes. Mina gulped.
“Fine. Go right ahead and take a left on the next street.”
“Thanks.” Mina smiled at the inept guard and biked in through the opened gates toward Richmond Lane. Every home she
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