The Hades Test

Chapter 15 - Digging

I slam the book shut, the resulting boom roaring through the noiseless space. With a shake of my head and a sigh to rival the wind, I toss it onto the top of a towering heap. The stack teeters precariously, but remains standing. I pick another up and start reading.

I repeat the process, reading, thinking over and discarding books, until I'm sure that I've read every single crime and mystery novel there is to be had. The librarian comes over with yet another grouping of books, these mostly about new age crime solving tactics.

"This is quite the collection you're amassing here, deary. What did you say this was for again?" The librarian is a quirky, elderly lady with silver hair and perching round eyeglasses.

"It's a research project for school. I'm looking up how to solve mysteries and the like." I lie.

"It's so nice to see you young people taking an interest in the real world. And reading books! Oh I have a little grandson, you see, and when I come over he only wants to play on his Y-box, or something like that. When I was your age there weren't such thing as touch televisions or colour computers, we only had rocks to play with, you know. Then, after school, we had to go out and plow the fields. Tough work it was. Young'uns today have no idea." she turns away then, taking off down an aisle, still muttering about teenagers.

I smile and look back down at my collection of books. Who ever would have guessed that detectives have to do this much work for only one single case. Sure they had access to the crime scene and witnesses and real resources, but they must have to do this amount of research as well. The television shows really don't give the real people credit for the amount of boring work they had to do.

Taking on another section of text, I nearly jump out of my chair. How Nolan and I could have missed this is beyond me.

"I feel like such an idiot for missing this." I mutter to myself.

"Who's an idiot? Not me I hope. Bryan for sure." Nolan asserts. Scared to my wit's ends, I actually leap out of my seat this time.

"Never ever do that again." I reprimand him, smoothing out my shirt to distract myself from Nolan's humour filled eyes.

"Eternally sorry, Sunshine. I promise to never scare you again. Scout's honor, I swear it on my grave." His word choice can't mask the lack of genuine tone; they only add to my gloomy mood. "I actually could do that, now that I think of it." I don't find it as funny as Nolan seems to. Instead, I settle back down onto my chair and reopen the book.

"So what was it that you were so giddy about before?" he asks, finally choosing a more serious topic. I hold out the section, tapping the cold paper with a finger.

"This." I state, as though the world's future depends upon my new finding. My world relies on it, at least.

"Motive? Like the show? Every Monday night at 8pm eastern." he says, still joking.

"Of course. We have looked at the witnesses, at the suspects, and even at the memory, but never once did we consider who would have had a reason to kill you. A motive." I declare, but Nolan simply shrugs.

"Who would that be? I was just a regular old teen, nothing special. I went to school, played sports, probably went to parties. Got all the girls." he smiles one of those boyish smiles. "I can't tell you all the details of my life, but I can be sure that I didn't make any enemies on purpose. Why would anyone want to kill me?" He makes a valid point.

"Your guess is as good as mine, but it gives us something to look for." I take a glance around at the stacks of reading material. "It's getting late, let's head home."

Together we walk amonst the rows of books, between the shelves that watch from each side. They track our progress, and I feel the unusual sensation of being watched. We walk into the main room, where the librairina is watching the tiny screen of a portable television. It flashes with today's latest news.