The Mystery of the Flaming Ranch

Chapter 1

It was a beautiful early morning in the city. I was walking down the street to the local coffee shop before work. Hi, I'm Megan. I own a small detective business. I like to say I'm pretty good at my job. I went to college for it and everything! But unfortunately, people prefer detectives hired by the police department because they know they are "legit" or some bullshit like that. Whatever. I don't need their business anyway. It's been, what? Two years? Two years since I started this business. I haven't got any cases so now I have to work another job on top of it. My second job is pretty simple. Shitty pay, but at least it pays my rent and my phone bills. My mother said I could've been a hairdresser, or worked in a morgue. The thing is though, none of those suits me.

I mean, I do like sports so I could have been an athlete or a coach. I could have been a teacher or something. I just thought I could have been successful. My father said if I wanted to be successful I should've just worked for the county instead.

I know what you're thinking. No, I do not live with my parents. I'm twenty-two and I live by myself in an apartment. I never found dating interesting so I don't have a boyfriend. It's just me and I like it that way! It's quiet so I get better sleep and I can concentrate on the things that matter more. I guess it's not completely quiet though. My apartment complex allows animals, so I have two cats. They're such sweethearts but sometimes they do get into some trouble.

I also have some damn-bad bad luck, or maybe I'm just clumsy. I'm not exactly sure, could be both for all I care. Anyway, I get hurt a lot. Luckily, I also studied medical care, so I can take care of my own injuries. But I've been to the hospital three times for broken bones. I broke my nose once, but I don't really consider that a bone. I've broken my wrist, collarbone, and leg.

Do you remember when I said I hadn't gotten any cases since I started? Well that changed when I was hired to participate in a search party looking for a missing kid and some dog. Not much, but it was enough to get my business out to the public. Now every once and a while I'll get cases if people are desperate enough to pay the prices for my services. The prices vary depending on the case, like if I'm helping find someone's lost cat I'll only charge twenty-five because I know how hard it is to lose a pet, but at the same time I still need to pay my bills. I think twenty-five is pretty reasonable when I put all my energy into finding one small cat that was five blocks down.

One of the most important cases I've ever gotten was a few months ago when they asked me to help solve the case of a house that burned down that week. I thought, "Okay, well how hard could it be? The house burned down, so what?"

I was so fucking wrong.

That perfect morning at the beginning of the story comes into play here. My office is just down the street from the coffee shop. As I was walking in, I saw a strange man standing outside looking in through the windows. I was not sure what to do because I was not sure what he was doing. I didn't know whether I should stop him in case he tried to break in, or if I should just let him be. In all honesty, I think he was just trying to see if anyone was present in the building at that moment in time, and there was nobody present at all.

I decided to get my coffee and if he was still there when I came back, I would deal with it accordingly. He, in fact, was still there when I exited the cafe. So with that in mind, I slowly but surely made my way over to the man sitting on the doorstep. I was quite nervous. I'd seen a lot of strangers lately but something about him was odd. Especially if he was desperate enough to sit outside my office and wait for me to arrive.

As I approached I found a young man, around twenty-five years old. He looked professional, but not professional at the same time. How one could do that was uncertain to me because I always tried to look as professional as possible. I believe it was his hair. His hair made him look almost as if he were sixteen.

Oh, my bad. I guess I should describe what he looked like rather than talk about how professional he seemed. His hair was dirty blonde, very curly and poofy, but not in a wild, crazy way. It was very well kept. I think in that moment I really wanted to touch it. It honestly looked like a cloud, and I am not ashamed of it either. His skin was pale, not sick pale, but still pale. He wore a light blue button-up polo with black slacks.

This moment is where the saying, "Don't judge a book by its cover", comes into play. He may not have looked at all like a businessman, but trust me, he was there to do business and only business.

When I got up to him, he instantly stood up and moved out of the way of the door so I could open it even though I thought he had no clue who I even was. I fumbled with my keys for a moment since I could never remember which one worked for which door. The keys always looked the same (Keep in mind I have about fifteen keys on that keyring). When I finally got the door open, he just stood there, like a dog waiting for approval.

"Well? Are you going to come in?"

"Right! Sorry, miss." He panicked, scrambling into the building.

I walked in behind him, turning the lights on and opening up everything.