Trapped In A Dead Man's Mansion

Prologue: How It All Started

Prologue: How It All Started

   Flash. "Are there any words you would like to say in response to the high praise given by the state governor?" Click. Click.

   "Did this case, in any way, resemble the 'MIller-The-KIller' case from last year?" Buzz... Beep.

   "There's been rumors circulating about a supposed scandal that you'll be working on nearing the end of this month, care to confirm this claim?"

   Masses of paparazzi swarmed around us as I lead the group outside. The blood staining my clothes indicated how violent the latest case had been. All I could smell was the irony, greasy smell of the blood that had been splattered moments earlier. Of course it wasn't my blood, but the blood of a criminal brought to justice.

   "Excuse me, pardon me, please, just move," cameras flashed feverishly as Aaron pulled my face to his chest and wrapped his untainted arm around my shoulders. There we goes doing it again, feigning politeness. "Are you alright, Raine?"

   I grinned against his shirt. "Peachy," I mumbled as the cameras continued to click audibly.  Aaron hated being "photogenic" - as the reporters called him. Men and women scrambled like children, hoping to get a shot at the town's most famous celebrities.

   I gathered a fistful of his shirt as he directed me into our white van.

   "Ngh," I'd just sat down in my seat and Aaron had already started groaning about his bloody shirt sleeve. "I knew we shouldn't have involved ourselves in another egomaniac-killer-case," He had been talking to our driver and advisor, Jonathan, but a few mystery-fangirls in the background errupted in cheers at the thought of his naked chest.

   Finally, I saw James and Mel walk through the building doors, going over the case we had just completed. Behind them, the unconscious murderer was being arrested. The last one to exit the bloodied crime scene was Dylan who seemed to be in an interesting conversation with one of the policemen.

   James, Mel, and Dylan were crowded by reporters and journalists as they approached our van.

   "Come ON," Aaron was wailing now. "I want to go home!"

   I covered my grin as Aaron's childish, cute side began to show. I'd always found it amusing to watch him grow irritated and become the boy I loved.

   "Alright, stop your whining," James climbed into the van followed by a smiling Mel and a bored-looking Dylan.

   "Wait!"

   "Can we have a private interview?"

   "I love you!"

   "What's your secret to case-cracking?"

   A bunch of raised voices got louder as we shut the door and sped down the road.

                                                                                            *

   "Seriously, that was too easy," Dylan yawned and pushed his shiny, frame-less glasses up his slightly freckled, straight nose.

   "I'm really starting to think that this town is boring," I whispered as my eyelids drooped. Crime fighting and mystery solving always got me tired.

   "I agree," Aaron wrinkled his nose and glanced at me. "This time, it was as if the guy had no fight in him!"

   "You're always looking for a bloodier fight," James said in genuine amazement. He was our group's most recent recruit from last year.