Lockwood and Co. The see-through girl.

Chapter 3

The kettle booked so loudly that I heard it from the basement. I was put off and missed Lady Esmerelda (the straw dummy named after the famous ghost) by miles and went tumbling to the floor. And it had to be at that moment when Lockwood came in. He looked down at me and smiled.
"You Ok?" He lifted one eyebrow up.
"Um, yeah cause," I got up too quickly and tripped over my feet. I sighed and brushed my skirt off. I looked at Lockwood and saw that he was fighting back laughter. I did my trademark Lucy Carlyle scowl and Lockwood's face drooped.
"Well you tell George to warn me when he's putting the kettle on that loud."
Lockwood cocked his head back and forth. "Well he was doing some gardening, he didn't want our garden to get into the state the Rease's did."
At the sound of the Rease's house, my mind went straight back to the mystery girl who survived a Visitors embrace.
"I wrote it up in the casebook, I may have missed out stuff in the poltergeist incident. Can you help?" He smiled at me. It was a different sort of smile; strange and different to his 108 giggawatt smile. I nodded. He leaned closer to me and I felt my stomach drop. My hand slipped into his. I leaned closer. I smelt his bubble mint breath. Around one more lean and...
"Guys, do you want biscuits with your tea?"
Lockwood cursed under his breath. I pushed myself (with regret) away from him and picked up my rapier that was strewn across the floor.
George came down the steps with a donut in his mouth. I took a half-hearted swing at Floating Joe (the other straw dummy. Also named after a famous ghost.) as Lockwood sat down with a huff by his desk.
"What's wrong with you two? Your seeming very down in the dumps."
I know it wasn't George's fault but at that moment, I seriously wanted to punch his pudgy face in.
"So what did you find in the archives about the Rease's house, George?"
George's face darkened.
"Well, the Rease's house was built smack bang in the middle of a World War 2 bombing. It killed many people and practically blew one of the apart. Daniel Hope."
"We've found our Raw-Bones then." Lockwood slumped in his chair. He agreed with me.
"However, that complicates things." He said plainly. He looked at me with sadness. I knew the sadness wasn't because of the bombing. It was because of what didn't just happen. "That means the Source isn't his bones."
"Ah, I can help you there," George said, rubbing his glasses on his T-shirt. "Apparently, Daniel Hope was well known for his love of music. Apparently his prized saxophone survived the bombing. It must be buried in the garden somewhere."
"Makes sense." I said, chewing on a biscuit. I wanted to distract myself from the Lockwood incident. "You couldn't find anything in that garden."

A few write ups in the casebook and rapier practices later, we were sat in the kitchen. Lockwood was reading one of his celebrity magazines, George reading a book and me doodling on the thinking cloth. There was a sharp rap on the door, followed by an impatient trill of the bell.
"I'll go." I said, dropping my pencil and heaving myself out of my chair. As I walked down the corridor, there was another rap.
"Yes, yes I'm coming." I said under my breath. What was the hurry?
I opened the door to find a pristine grey jacket staring back at me. Wait no, four pristine grey jackets and a bristling moustache. You guessed it, Quill Kipps, Kat Godwin, Ned Shaw, little Bobby Vernon and, at the rear, as grumpy as ever, Inspector Barnes.
"Hello, Inspector." I ignored the Fittes group. "For what do we owe the pleasure?"
The moustache bristled. "I came here to see you actually Miss Carlyle. But since we're here, can we have a cup of tea?"

Authors note~
Sup? How do you think it's going? Please comment to tell me how I'm doing on my first fanfic! YAY!!!