The Murderer's Experiment

Chapter Two; A Failed Artist

"Just in case you weren't listening after the fifty five times I've said it in the last ten minutes, YOU HAVE RESEARCH HOMEWORK AS PREP FOR YOUR UPCOMING PAPER! Alright, now get out of my sight." A round of relatively quiet laughter goes around the room at the Professor's antics. He was an eccentric man, to say the least. 

I quickly slip my things into my bag, jogging up to the Professor's desk. 

"Hey, Professor, when is our paper due?" the Professor spins around with exuberance, too much, probably.

 "Alice. I know you like to be on top of the game, but you have only begun your research today," he says and turns around, continuing to wipe off the board. 

"I know, but I like to know how much time I have. If you could just give me an estimate . . .?" I send a small smile, praying that he'll give me an answer not in the form of a riddle. 

"Tell you what. If you bring in some good, in depth research on your topic, I might just tell you the due date. Now out of my sight!" 

I send one more smile before turning away and walking out of the room, ready to go meet up with Mara for our daily coffee date. 

I walk down the hallway, slightly happy with today, when my phone begins to vibrate. 

'From Mara

Our coffee date has just turned into a Code Red coffee date! Get here ASAP!'

My mouth drops open a little bit before I continue the path to my car,  rushing slightly. 

We only have used Code Red once before, when Mara thought she had killed someone with her car. 

Did Mara actually kill someone this time? 

* * * 

I pull up to the Starbucks down the road from our college, almost forgetting to put my car in park and take my keys out of the ignition before getting out. 

I look through the glass, seeing Mara at our usual table, tapping the side of her coffee cup with her nails impatiently. I walk in, the dinging of the bell causing Mara to look up instantly. Her eyes are wide, and she almost looks scared. 

Mara waves me over with her hand, and I make my way to our table before quickly sitting down across from her. 

"Did you kill someone?" instantly comes out of my mouth in a hushed tone. She instantly begins to shake her head, as if she knew that's what I was going to ask. "Then what is it?"

"I think you killed someone," she replies in the same hushed tone, quickly glancing around to check if anyone heard her. 

My breath stops for a second before I quickly respond,"What the hell are you talking about? I haven't even-"

"Darren," Mara interrupts my sentence,"Last night you told me that you hit Darren over the head with a bottle." 

"Yes, Mara! I knocked him out, I didn't kill him!" I whisper-yell. 

"Are you sure? Did you check his pulse?" Mara asks. 

"No, of course not! But I'm not stupid. I know he was still alive. I could tell he was breathing," I lean back in my chair, looking at her with disbelief. "I can't believe you think I killed someone. Where did you even come up with this anyway?"

Mara holds up a finger to me as she pulls out her phone, signaling for me to wait a moment. She seems to get on Facebook, scrolling for a second before turning her phone to show me.

As I read the article my heart rate picks up and my stomach drops.

'Local college student found dead after house party' 

I continue to read the article, my stomach dropping lower and lower. 

"Local college student Darren Hartford was found dead in one of the many bedrooms in a house that was hosting a party. The cause of death is unknown and the police currently have no suspects or murder weapons in possession. If you know anything about the incident, contact ***-***-****. " 

"Mara. It says they don't have any weapons in possession. I hit him over the head with a bottle. they would have gotten my fingerprints already and arrested me or at least would be holding me as a suspect," I retort as she sets her phone down on the table. 

"And that makes you confident how?" 

"It doesn't. It means that someone else killed him and took the bottle I hit him with, so I would have been framed if they hadn't taken that bottle," I sigh, bringing my hand up to the bridge of my nose.

 "Okay, I'm lost. What exactly are you planning to do about this?" 

"I'm going to find Darren's killer." 

"It could have been anyone at that party." 

"Yeah, but you even said yourself that the party thrower was only allowing students who go to the local college and brought either alcohol, snacks, or weed. So that means they go to our college, are most likely 21, and have a little money to throw around." 

"Alright, Sherlock Holmes, what are our next steps?" 

"Well, Watson, it's time for a little research and investigation."

* * * 

A/N: I don't know if you guys got why I named the chapter what I did, but if you didn't here is the explanation: Alice almost got framed, or could've gotten framed, such as a failed artist would could have gotten framed but didn't. My chapter titles will either be really obvious or you'll have to think about it, just a heads up.