ARKEN

Murderer

Curtis and Wendy went to the address of Rhonda Dipiero. Apparently, the police had wanted to keep her at the station since they did not catch the man responsible for the killings at the church, and there were concerns that the killer could try to finish what he started. However, Rhonda's parents wanted her to come home and be with them.

Curtis still felt wary about doing this, going to the house of a woman who recently survived something so traumatic, only to ask her to tell them about it, but Wendy plowed ahead. The house on North 9th Street in Lamesa was a tiny little white painted house with blue trim and a small driveway to the right. The property was bordered on the east by another little house, and on the west by another house overgrown with foliage. They were affirmed of their location upon reading the side of the mailbox, 'Dipiero'.

"I'm not so sure about this," Curtis wavered. Wendy turned to him, "What? Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? This woman just survived a terrible event. Why would we make her relive it?"

"To figure out who is responsible."

"That's what the police are for."

"But what if he has powers? If he does, the police aren't prepared for that, but you are."

"Wendy, I've had my powers for just under two weeks. I don't think I'm prepared."

Wendy turned around and walked up to the door, knocking and waiting. The man who opened the door was older, Curtis guessed he was Rhonda Dipiero's father. He had thick white hair and a mustache that was almost as white.

"Who are you?"

"Sir, I'm Wendy Willis and this is my friend Curtis Walker."

"What do you want?"

"We wanted to interview your daughter for our independent newspaper that we do."

"No."

He started to close the door, "Wait!" Wendy pleaded. "We know it's a bad topic, but we care about what happened to Rhonda. We want to tell her story, not in the way these bigtime news groups do it."

The man still did not want to let them in. He was about to close the door when someone called from the back of the house, "Dad, who is it?!"

The man shouted back into the house, "It's just some kids! Nothing to worry about!" He spoke quieter now so no one could hear them. "Rhonda has been through enough. She just wants to keep living her life, and that means getting past this. Please, leave my house." He closed the door on them.

"That's that, I think we should hop a bus back home before they're all gone."

"We have to talk to her somehow."

"Wendy, her parents aren't going to let us. We can't just barge in there."

"No...but if we can talk to her directly, try to convince her to tell us."

"How do we do that?"

"I don't know."

They turned and began to walk away when the door opened again, "Wait."

At the door was Rhonda Dipiero, dressed in her pajamas and not looking so well. "You two want to talk to me?"

"We do. I know it's not easy to—"

"It's okay." She stepped out and closed the door, "Everyone wants to know about what happened." Rhonda Dipiero sat down on her front step, beckoning Curtis and Wendy closer.