Rick froze as he read the description of Teddy Flowers’s death one last time. 

“Teddy Flowers was bludgeoned to death with a wooden square block with the letter “A” painted on it.” 

He couldn’t breathe. He repeated in his head that this was just a coincidence. That perhaps a sick serial killer was out murdering people with wooden toy blocks. It couldn’t have anything to do with his show. It couldn’t, it shouldn’t, it can’t. Rick didn’t realize that he was becoming light-headed by walking around his blue sofa in circles with the paper in his hand. 

He felt the need to call someone. He thought of Cameron first, but assumed that he would call him crazy and be more upset with him. He could maybe call the police and tell them that he knows something, but they would call him crazy too. 

He had only one person left he could call, and his gut twisted just thinking about it. He reached for his cell phone and dialed her number. His thumb hovered over the button to call her. He hasn’t talked to her in years ever since the incident they had where she stormed off and swore that she would never talk to him again. He had no other choice or else he was lost.

He took a deep breath and pressed the button. He waited for almost a minute until the beeping from the other end ceased. 

A woman with a tired and dry voice answered, “Hello?” 

Rick couldn’t recognize her voice. “Can I speak to Isabelle, please?” 

“This is Isabelle,” she replied. 

Rick answered as confidently as he could, “Hey Izzy, it’s your dad.” 

There was a long, silent pause as Rick was already regretting his decision, but then a deep sigh followed after what felt like an eternity. 

“What do you want?” she demanded in a cold tone. 

“Did you hear about Teddy Flowers’s death?” Rick asked.

“Yeah. What does this have to do with me?” Isabelle said. 

“How he died was like how Mr. Jenkins died in the pilot of “The Red Raven.” I want your help in looking deeper into this case, and you’re the only person I have that is in the force that can do this for me,” Rick explained. 

“So you find out that one of your co-stars passed away and your first thought is that it matches how a character died in a TV show?” Isabelle said in disbelief.

“Izzy, please, I don’t mean it like that. I want to try and see if there’s any correlation. I want to try and help,” Rick pleaded, heartbroken that she was still bitter towards him. 

“Look Dad, we are on the case and still trying to uncover everything that we can, but you are in no shape to help. You always thought you were the Red Raven even off the screen. It’s so sad to see you still think that,” Isabelle said. 

“I don’t want to be the Red Raven. I just want to know because maybe I can help.” Rick defended. 

“When you called you said that I should do this for you. That’s what it’s always been about. Rick Greenblatt always had to be the star in every moment, even in his own child’s life. I took up being a detective because I knew that I could help people and not just play pretend in a red cape. I can’t help you because it won’t feel worth it because you’ll make it all about yourself,” Isabelle addressed. 

Rick tried one last time. “Please, you are all that I have left, and I wouldn’t be calling you if I didn’t care for your help and if I didn’t care about the impact you had on my life. I just need this one favor, just this once.” He begged her, tears streaming down his face. 

Another long silent pause, with the exception of Rick’s sobs, was brought upon the two again. After a few minutes, Isabelle made her decision. 

“Do you have those old VHS tapes of the show still in the basement?” Isabelle asked. 

“Yes, I do,” Rick nodded, clearing his voice. 

“Bring them down to the station.” Isabelle said. The call ended there. 

Rick wore an awkward smile as he walked to the door that was standing diagonally from the sofa. He opened the door and ran downstairs and grabbed the boxes labeled “Red Raven Collection.”

To be continued…