Charlotte's POV
Me and Alison stood before the city hall, which was where we are going to work for the next few years.
I looked over at Ali, and smiled. We were co-presidents of the Jr. Detective club at our middle school, and got discovered when we solved a hard case, when lockers ended up empty. It was the janitor all along. Which was suspected because-
Oops, I'm rambling.
This happens a lot, Ali says. Its weird, because I'm used to being super quiet, while Ali does the talking.
That changed after the case was cracked. I was the one who found cases, I was the one who got us the jobs.
I digress.
We wore trench coats, with out pockets stuffed (Well, I stuffed mine, I don't know about Alison) with magnifying glasses, powders of various sorts, and candy.
Explosive candy.
"Todays the day!" I squealed.
Ali paced, mumbling things.
"Um, Al? You okay, this is our dream job, sleuths!" I squirmed.
Ali stopped pacing to look at me.
"Are you kidding? Lottie, this job is awesome, but requires skills we don't have!" She gestured to the large building.
"Alison? Charlotte?" A booming voice trailed down the steps.
"Miz Gerfield!" I bowed.
Gerfield smiled, and glanced at Ali.
"Pleasure." She muttered.
Gerfield walked us up the steps, and into the building.
"As our operative agents, you will investigate things I approve of." She tapped on the windowsill, looking out.
I looked up at the ceiling.
"Is it always this glamorous?" Ali asked sarcastically.
"I don't like your tone, young lady." Gerfield scowled.
Her face looked like she scowled at everything.
She let us wander around, letting us open doors, and look at books.
"Miz...Gerfield. This book has newspaper articles dating bcak to World War II." Ali said.
Gerfield smiled, "Yes, we have newspapers that are as current as this mornings, to as early as World War I."
Ali then proceeded to bury her nose in old newspapers.
