Lisa Wells walked up to the glowing lit up mansion on 48th street. It was the same house she had grown up in as a kid. With its old, rusty windows which seemed to give a vibe of stay away stay away, and its red vacant door with the paint chipped off. She walked up the marble stairs where flashing lights lit up the sad windows. Cameras they were but she looked at them as clue finders, or evidence collectors due to the fact that they could catch things that the naked eye could not. The first thing she noticed was the blood stains on the spiral stair case as she remembered creaked beneath your damp feet. She turned the corner into the foyer where one motionless body laid. She squatted next to him as in the corner of her eye she caught the rain drips fall helpless and then fall on the dirty, black pavement. Splash,....splash,......splash. She got caught in the moment and then shook her head as the though of work needed to be done. Right away she noticed a blood print on his face she swiped it for D.N.A, then she dropped it into a little plastic baggy and stuffed it into her brown fuzzy bag in which she takes everywhere. She turned to Ricky her helper who usually is the first one to arrive.
“Who is he?” she demanded.
“Excuse me?” he questioned.
“The guy who is he?” she demanded again.
“O I see, he's Roger Omened, works for S.T.I, hes the head of staff there.” He replied with no hesitation. She asked no more for she did not like to get personal with these people, nor did she like to get close it only made things worse.
“Are there others?” she waited
“Are there others?” she asked again.
“Yes,....unfortunately there are 2 more up stairs in the master room the other is in the kitchen.”
“Ok thanks” she sputtered.
Then stood up waited a minute and went into the kitchen. She looked at the detail of the crown molding how much time was put into it. The people were almost as dedicated as she is but this case was more than she could handle. Already three murders had happened which are believed to be by the same killer. In 1974 a man killed 31 people and now its started over. This guy was a copycat of the worse serial killer in America. How could she tackle such a risky case? The answer was right before her all she had to do was finish the investigation here and then go back to the lab where she would test the D.N.A and get thinking. The first thing she noticed was the dust on the counter. It was in a circler shape which meant there was an object there which had been moved. Maybe a pot, or a or a..... she looked around the room in the corner next to the rusty stove was a pile of smashed pieces of clay. They were in a powdery form which looked as if it was swiped into the corner. The pot had a fake cactus in the center and considering the dust stains around the window it seems as if it was broken on accident. The window too was broken meaning that they knocked it over when breaking in. She started dusting the pot for finger prints, concentrating on every detail, and questioning her knowledge. She stood up looked around and pulled up her hood and walked out the door. One week later she finally got the D.N.A back from the lab, finger prints came back as a Zoe Carthorse. Lisa new what she had to do, she had to find where Zoe lived and take her into custody. Lisa found where Zoe lived, it was a small apartment with only two or three windows so there wasn't a lot of light. There were a lot of people waiting outside the apartment, they were drug dealers, one gave a look of go-home-you-don't-belong-here as his eyes shifted back and forth. Once I made eye contact he turned away and whispered something into another guys ear, I don't know what it was but I am sure it was insulting. As I approached Zoe's door she refused to let me in I had a search warrant though so I could enter. Zoe had legs the size of pencil and the bones sticking out of her neck screamed I have not eaten in weeks. Her dried out scraggly red hair looked as if it had not been washed for months.
“What ever you want me to do, I ain't gotta do!” She screamed.
Her grammar was in proper and her Texas, hillbilly accent did not help her intelligence level either. Every time she opened her mouth her nasty, yellow snarly teeth would grind together. She kept refusing and I did not want to touch her so hard for I was worried that she would have snapped in half. Still refusing I snapped the hand cuffs on her bony wrists and told her she had the right to an attorney. Once we were in the police car all I could feel was her piercing eyes on my back watching me ... watching me as I tilted the mirror I saw her shuffling threw her pockets with what room she had and half way I saw her pull what seemed to be a gun. I yanked the car over making a screeching nose as the vibration gave me a headache. I took the gun from her and raced to the police station. Once we got there I threw her butt on the seat she flew back and hit the wall.
“Why did you kill the Tom house family?” I declared.
“I did not kill em John did!” She screeched.
“And who might John be?” I questioned.
“My associate!” She declared.
“Hes as dumb as a box of rocks and gots turrets!”
“Then he couldn't have committed it could he?” I asked stupidly.
“Because he was to shaken, he had not took en his medication yet which means he could not have killed them!” I Yelped
“So what if I did!?” She declared proudly.
“They deserved it!” She started breaking down crying.
“No they diii.......... before i could finish my sentence I felt a sharp, intense pain in the center of my right shoulder, then another in my heart. I fainted and closed my eyes for the first time.
**********************
As I stood there in the cold my jacket blowing in the wind, hair now died a dark, rich, brown I stared at her nicely polished face cheeks as rosy as the first time I saw her. I walked away, walking away from my problems, walking away from her coffin, and walking away from my beloved detective.
“You almost caught me!” I thought
“You almost caught me!” How deeply you will be missed!