THE CAT MURDERER

Chapter One - Cry for Help

MABLETON, WI - FRIDAY, OCTOBER 14, 2014; 4:57 PM.

Autumn in Wisconsin was always beautiful. The chilly, crisp air; the colorful leaves; the bracing wind. During times as peaceful as these, no one expects anything to happen.

My name is Detective Elliot Fletcher, and this is the story of how my partner and I took matters into our own hands and solved a serial murder in our junior year of high school: the case of the cat murderer of 2014.

I sat in the passenger seat of a black Jeep, staring out of the open window as we drove home from school through the woods. My fluffy brown hair was blowing back in the cold wind that was drying out my round brown eyes. I was wearing my usual outfit. That particular day I was wearing a yellow t-shirt underneath a red plaid flannel. I wore a denim jacket and a mustard yellow beanie to protect me against the frigid evening air. Those warm colors seem to go well with my porcelain pale skin. My mom always told me I was autumnal when she helped me pick out clothes in the store.

Lynne Thomas, my best friend, was driving the Jeep. She was tall and curvy and had a mane of curly black hair and caramel-colored skin. She was wearing a forest green t-shirt and a grey cardigan, which made her look like a librarian. She was talking about something, but I wasn't paying attention; I was busy taking pictures with my school-issued Canon EOS Rebel T6 that hung on a strap around my neck.

"This is my favorite season," I told her as I took a photo of the colorful treeline against the sky.  The breeze flourished leaves through the air and carried a chill behind it, and birds drifted lazily through the crystal-blue sky towards the South. It was an amazing day; so amazing that everyone I knew had spent some time outside to enjoy the beautiful weather. At lunchtime at school, we had all eaten out in the courtyard instead of the cafeteria. I ended up having to dart after a stray napkin that got snatched away by the wind.

Lynne snorted. "So you've said, like, a million times today."

As I took a snapshot of the woods, I spotted something. In an outburst, I shouted, "Oh, pull over! I wanna get this!"

Lynne groaned, replied, "Okay," and pulled the Jeep over. I leaped out onto the side of the road and squatted into one of my weird photo-taking positions, and took a beautiful shot of a creek. I could've stayed there snapping photos forever, but Lynne sat impatiently in the Jeep, waiting. I quickly got back in.

"Are those for the yearbook?" Lynne asked as she continued driving; we had just arrived in our neighborhood, Cherry Grove, and were driving around the cul-de-sac of Rockfish Road. I was the photographer for our high school yearbook, so I could take pictures all the time and no one would ever question me. It was really nice.

"Nah," I replied. "I just wanted to capture this. Fall doesn't exactly last forever." In just a couple of gusty weeks, the beautiful trees would be bald.

Lynne sighed in an annoyed manner. "You take so many pictures."

I smirked, replacing the lens cap. "I have plenty of you."

Lynne barked out a loud laugh. "For what, blackmail material?"

Nonchalantly, I answered, "I have loads of that, too." without meeting her eye.

She scoffed dismissively. "You do not,"

"The 'baby got back' incident, the banana incident, the shoulder incident, the time that you malfunctioned and started drooling, the fact that you can't read, spell, or speak English properly, and the fact that you used to think the Earth was in a cereal bowl. That's just a few instances off the top of my head." I recited without missing a beat.