Get a Clue, Already!
By B.S.N.

Prologue: Welcome to My Life

Have you ever been stuck living in a sleepy small town out in the middle of nowhere? I have, and still am living in one to this very day, which is July 31st, 2006. This is an account of what happened to my two best friends and I our junior year of high school. The freakishly small town that I live in and have spent pretty much the entirety of my life in is called Redfern, and it’s located between the cities of Columbus and Cleveland, Ohio, just outside of Ashland, off of Highway 71, headed North. Redfern is pretty much a perfect example of a typical small town. It’s tiny, quite picturesque (old houses, cute shops, friendly neighbors, decent weather, etc.), everybody in town knows everybody else and their business, and there’s a diner in town that’s the local hangout spot. It’s not a bad place to grow up, all in all…

By now, you’re probably wondering to yourself, “Who on earth is talking to me?!” The answer? Me, of course! My name is Ruby Redfern (yup, that’s right; my family founded the town back in the 1700s! Pretty cool, huh?) and I am a 17-year-old detective. (Before you even have to ask, I’m a girl.) In regards to my physical features, I have red curly hair that’s currently chin-length, green eyes like my Mom’s, a bunch of freckles, very pale skin, and a tendency to sunburn very easily, even if I haven’t been in the sun very long. Height-wise, I’m about 5’7”, and I’m skinny enough without looking like the slightest fall windstorm would blow me away instead of my backyard fence. In regards to my personality…well, I definitely have one! I’m quite sarcastic for a girl my age, but that’s just who I am and if you don’t like it, tough luck. Clothing-wise, I tend to wear a lot of jeans, t-shirts, and comfy sweaters most of the time, although I will wear a dress or a skirt once in a while if it’s for a party or formal occasion.

Other aspects of me include a desperate love of coffee that almost surpasses my Mom’s plus a total addiction to caffeine, a definite like of math and science subjects (although Pre-Calculus and Chemistry last school year, junior year, totally bit), a rather analytical brain and the occasional tendency to speak before my brain has had a chance to catch up with my mouth. I love to spend time hanging out with my two best friends/cousins, Bridget Nickels and Jennifer Purple, who are detectives as well. The three of us work together in the town’s only detective bureau, the Redfern Detective Agency, or the R.D.A. for short. The three of us founded it back when we were in middle school (although Bridget was still out in California at the time) and Jade Kimono, an infamous jewel thief/murderess/serial killer/anything else that applies to her, kidnapped Bridget’s old English teacher. And we’ve been around ever since back then. And that’s pretty much me, in a nutshell…

“What’s your life at home like?” you ask? Well, by all means let me fill you in on that. I am the child of divorced parents, and I was raised primarily by my Mom, Lena Redfern, and my Grandparents, Mary and Robert Redfern, as Mom and I had been living with them ever since I was a baby. My Dad is pretty much out of the picture, sadly; I only see him once in a while, although he does call occasionally. He lives out in California these days with his mom and siblings last time I checked…

When I was a freshman in high school (so about three years ago now), my Grandpa Robert finally retired from the world of high finance and insurance, and decided that it was time for them to move out of the family’s Victorian mansion. The house, by the way, is enormous! It sits on an entire acre of land, which includes the house itself (which reminds me and Bridget of a small castle; it’s even got a tower!), the rose gardens and the patio out in the backyard, the old maple tree which holds our old tree house, the circular driveway out front, and the garage, which is where my beautiful, red ‘65 Ford Mustang currently lives. The house is shaped like a sideways C, except not quite so rounded. It’s currently painted different shades of red and pink, which reminds me of Valentine’s Day. Mom says that one of these days we’re going to repaint the place, but I’m hoping that she’ll change her mind in regards to that, as I love the colors!

So, with about half of the money that Grandpa had earned from his company (they left Mom and I the other half, although we’re already quite well off as it is) Grandma and Grandpa bought a very nice beach front condo in a small town just outside of Orlando, Florida, called Winter Park and moved south permanently, enabling Mom and I to claim the house for ourselves. Mom claimed one of the master suites on the north side of the house, and I claimed one of the other suites on the east side, along with the attic as well.

I converted part of the attic into a kickin’ office space for myself, Jennifer, and Bridget, complete with separate offices for the three of us which reflect our personalities and a nice waiting area/working space in the middle of the attic as well. When we were converting the attic, Mom and I realized that we would need to install an elevator in the house so that the girls and I wouldn’t have to use the rickety old staircase that went up to the attic all the time. (I don’t blame her for it; that staircase gives me the heebie-jeebies.) Needless to say, the Office turned out fantastic, and I will be forever indebted to my Mom’s friend Luke Barnes, who runs the town’s Fix-It shop and did a lot of the construction for me. I’ve been paying him back by working part-time there, and since his sisters Jiz and Lulu helped us out as well, Jennifer and Bridget have been working part-time for them. Jennifer works at Purl Up & Dyed, the yarn shop that Luke’s younger sister Jaz runs (her real name is Jasmine, but everyone calls her “Jaz” for short), and Bridget works part-time, weekends, and whenever we don’t have a case to solve over at Lulu’s Diner, which is run by Luke’s twin sister Lulu. They have one more sister, Lisa, who owns the coffee shop called “The Buzz”…

“Do you have any pets?” you ask? Well, funny you should mention that. Not too long ago, Mom and I both felt that the big house was rather empty with just the two of us living in it, so we adopted a black cat with blue eyes (very unusual in a cat) from the local S.P.C.A. whose name was Baxter. Little did we know that “Baxter” was short for James Baxter, a local teenage Redfern boy who had mysteriously disappeared 300 years ago after a run in with a trio of witches who lived in the woods just outside of town. From what Mom and I have managed to learn from him (he talks, obviously), he had been living in the woods the last three centuries, surviving off of mice and other rodents, waiting for the day when he could return to society and find a family who would take him in and try to break his curse. Two years ago, he finally emerged from the forest, allowed himself to be caught by the S.P.C.A. and was brought to the animal shelter here in town, where Mom and I saw him and promptly adopted him. So, seeing as Mom and I have absolutely no idea as to how we’re supposed to break poor Baxter’s curse, we’re pretty much stuck with him for all eternity.

Besides having to deal with Baxter and his curse, my aforementioned cousin Bridget is currently living with my Mom and I. (She moved in with us last summer.) Before she moved out to Redfern, she used to live in San Francisco with her mom (my Aunt Ressa), her step-dad, and her little brother and sister. (Her dad lives in Portland, Oregon.) She was happy there, but then things began to get so crazy wither her school life and home life that she decided that a change of scenery was desperately needed. So my Mom, in her family-minded and very kind way, invited Bridget to come and live with us out here in the sticks, an offer that Bridget gladly accepted. So, in July of 2005, Bridget packed up her clothes, guitar, stationery, knitting supplies, and the rest of her stuff, bade her family farewell and headed east, not necessarily realizing that the school year ahead of her would be an interesting one, and not necessarily knowing that she was not the only one who had decided to move to Redfern that particular summer. That little surprise would make its presence known on our first day at Redfern High that school year…

Chapter 1: School Dazed

Why is it that the first day of a new school year is always eventful?
Something of interest tends to happen every year, from the mundane, such as getting your class schedules and locker assignments, to the more exciting, such as having an unexpected run-in with an old crush of yours (or a family member’s) whom you thought was still living out on the West coast, bumping into the bitchiest girl in school, or all of the above. The first day of the 2005-2006 school year (so our Junior year, as was previously mentioned) at Redfern High was quite eventful for both Bridget and myself, to say the least. It all started that morning, when my alarm went off…

Picture in your head, if you can, my lime green room at home. (The walls are lime green, and the border at the top is forest green) It’s 6:50am, and the sunlight is just starting to slant through my diamond-patterned window, making rather pretty designs on my forest green rug. (My room is on the East side of the house, which faces the front yard and also gets the sunrises. Bridget’s room is the circular room in the tower next door, and it has a 360-degree panoramic window, so it faces both the front and the backyard.) Besides the ever-so-cheery sunlight decorating my floor, my old black alarm clock was still blaring at me from on top of my bedside table, which is in-between my mattress-bed and my Maplewood desk, which is in front of the window. I groggily reached over with my right arm and smacked the top of it, thankfully shutting it off until the next morning, when it would wake me up yet again. Day-to-day life can be so predictable sometimes.

Meanwhile, after I shut off that more-than-a-little-annoying alarm clock, I leaned back against my down pillows, gazed at the white stucco ceiling, and groaned inwardly.

“How can it be the first day of school already?” I asked to no one in particular as I glanced over at my Orlando Bloom calendar for a second. “It seems like it’s still summer to me…” I sighed in irritation and tried to get myself out of bed, but for some strange reason it seemed like there was something rather heavy on top of my legs, pinning me down! Glancing at my lower appendages, I quickly discovered the reason why I couldn’t get up: our human-turned-cat, Baxter, was sound asleep on top of them. Realizing the fact that if I didn’t get up soon I would be late for the first day of school and also understanding the fact that the only way I could get up was if Baxter moved, I quickly decided that I was going to have to wake him up myself.

“Baxter…” I called softly to him as I leaned over on one elbow. One of his pointy black ears twitched for a second, but the rest of him remained motionless. “Baxter, wake up!” This time, both of his ears twitched, but the rest of him stayed quite still. I groaned again, rather annoyed. I decided that one of the only ways I was going to successfully get that darn cat to move was if I threatened him.

“James Baxter, if you do not wake up and get off of my legs now, I am going to give you a bath!” That epithet thankfully got his attention, as he opened his sapphire blue eyes (one of the only human features he managed to retain, regardless of the curse and even though it’s quite an unusual trait for a black cat), stood up slowly on his four white-tipped paws, arched his back and stretched everything out for a second, and then sat back down again on top of my legs like an Egyptian Sphinx. I glared at him, my red hair all rumpled from sleep, my arms crossed in front of me. He stared back at him, obviously nonplussed by my behavior.

“You rang?” he asked me dryly, apparently trying to be funny at 6:55 in the morning. He crossed his paws in front of him. “I believe you threatened me with a bath if I ‘didn’t get up’.” I continued to glare daggers at him.

“Considering the fact that you are still sitting on top of my legs, Baxter, and have not yet gotten up, I could still give you that bath. Therefore, my threat will still be quite true.” I replied smugly, although I was still rather grumpy due to the unfortunate fact that I had a bad dream the previous night. Meanwhile, Baxter thought about what I had said, his tail twitching a bit.

“All right, all right, I get your hint,” Baxter grumbled as he jumped off of my mattress and landed on the hardwood floor with a muffled THUMP! He immediately sat down again in the middle of my fuzzy forest green area rug and (to the point/extent of a cat) raised an eyebrow at me. “Gee, Ruby, you’re rather grumpy this morning. What did you do last night, eat bad tuna?” He chuckled to himself while I sighed and shook my head at him.

“I wish I had done that, but, no, Baxter I did not eat bad tuna last night,” I said tiredly as I managed to swing my legs(and my feet, which were attached, of course) out from under the warm blankets and comforter-quilt, placed them firmly on to the cold hardwood floor, and then slid them into my black fuzzy slippers, which I always keep next to my bedside table. I sat on my bed for a second and rubbed the back of my neck with my hand, feeling slightly uncomfortable, because I had a feeling that Baxter was going to inquire as to what was bothering me. Needless to say, I wasn’t disappointed.

“Then what did you do?” he asked me wonderingly. I glared at him again.

“I had a bad dream, ok? Leave me alone…” I snapped at him as I stood up slowly so as to avoid getting a head rush and stretched my arms out, then walked over to my desk, leaned across it, unlatched the window and stuck my head outside, to see what the weather was like. On the morning of September 5th, the weather was perfect for a walk to school: temperature around 65 degrees Fahrenheit(which means that it would go up to about 75 degrees or so that day), clear skies, sunny, but there was a distinct Fall chill in the air. Definite sweater and scarf weather, but not necessarily cold enough yet to be wearing gloves and a hat. I stuck my head back inside my room, closed the window most of the way but kept it open a teeny bit so I could get some fresh air in the room, walked across the room to my chartreuse dresser(which stands next to my bedroom door) and started looking for clothes to wear to school that day.

Meanwhile, Baxter (who was still sitting in the middle of my rug, observing me getting dressed) was not about to let me get away with telling him to “leave me alone”. Considering the fact that this was him, he wanted the full details, of course. (If Baxter had opposable thumbs, he’d definitely be a gossip columnist…or something to that affect.) He gave me a rather piercing gaze while I was pulling clothes out of my dresser and went into my closet to change. (It’s a rather large walk-in, so there’s more than enough room to do so.) When I came back out again to grab my black skater shoes and my sweater, he was still staring.

“What are you staring at, Baxter?!” I asked him exasperatedly as I sat down in my desk chair and pulled my sneakers on(with the laces inside instead of outside) and then pulled my black cardigan sweater over my “I Am Ghost” tee-shirt. He rolled his eyes at my query. (It’s really freaky to see a cat rolling their eyes, but, then again, Baxter isn’t exactly a “normal” cat…)

“I’m staring at you, obviously,” he replied pointedly, gesturing with a paw in my direction. He paused for a second, thinking, and then turned to look at me again. “Ruby…what was that dream of yours about? It must have really bothered you…” I glared at him yet again, my bright green eyes narrowed.

“Of course that dream really bothered me, Baxter! It was about my father!” I snapped again as I abruptly got out of my desk chair, grabbed my black corduroy messenger bag from on top of my desk and headed for my bedroom door, Baxter following right behind me. The two of us paused in the doorway for a second, me trying to open the door (it had jammed again, of course) and Baxter just watching me, most likely wanting to ask me more about my dream. Of course, he didn’t let me down…

“It was about your dad, huh?” Baxter asked me quietly while I tugged on the old-fashioned bronze doorknob, trying as hard as I possibly could to get the door open.

“Yes, it was,” I replied while I was straining at the door, both feet now firmly braced against the doorframe. “And if you continue to ask about this…”

“I know, I know…you’ll give me a bath…” Baxter replied, grumbling. I shook my head in reply.

“No, the bath threat was so I could get you off of the bed, Bax,” I said while I continued to yank on the door, which was still stubbornly refusing to open for me. “In this case, I probably wouldn’t feed you for a while.” Baxter’s eyes widened in surprise at that.

“Gee, that’s pretty harsh treatment just for askin’ a couple questions, Ruby,” he said annoyedly, his black tail twitching a bit. I rolled my eyes at that.

“Well, Baxter, considering the fact that you are asking questions in regards to a rather painful subject, it makes pretty good sense to me.” I grunted while I continued to pull on the doorknob. “Why…won’t…this…thing…open!” Of course, seeing as how I was attempting to pull the door open and off of its hinges at the same time, I lost my balance and ended up falling butt-first onto my forest green rug, the door remaining firmly closed, mocking me. Gotta love embarrassing moments, especially first thing in the morning…

“That definitely hurt,” I grumbled to myself as I got up off of the carpet and dusted myself off. I headed back over to the door again, making sure to pick up my book bag from off of the floor.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Baxter said in agreement as I pondered for a moment as to what I should do about the door situation. “Uh, Ruby, before you attempt to pull the door off of its hinges again, why don’t you try turning the handle this time?” he asked me pointedly. I blushed (which doesn’t happen that often) in embarrassment.

“Heh, I knew that…” I said embarrassedly as I grabbed the handle and turned it clockwise. And sure enough, the door opened for me, and the two of us headed out into the second floor hallway, which was a bit grayish still, as the morning light hadn’t come all the way through the wall-to-wall windows on the left side of the hallway yet. Just as Baxter and I were headed towards the back staircase and breakfast, my aforementioned cousin Bridget unexpectedly shrieked at something from her room, so we raced back down the hall to investigate, quickly followed by my Mom, who was already dressed in a navy blue blazer and slacks, a white blouse and a string of pearls around her neck, and her red hair (I get my hair from her, obviously) up in a chignon and looking very classy. (Mom likes to dress nicely for work, although sometime she looks more like an F.B.I. agent than a high school Principal…)

“Any idea what’s happened to her?” Mom asked us worriedly as the three of us ended up in front of Bridget’s bedroom door (which is to the right of mine and has an “Enter At Your Own Risk” sign on it) and were about to knock. Baxter and I shook our heads in regards to Mom’s query. (Well, I did anyways. It’s rather difficult for a cat to shake its head, n’est-ce pas?)

“No clue on that one, Mom,” I replied straightforwardly as I reached out with one hand and rapped on the door. “Bridget? Everything ok?” I called to her through the door, rather worried.

“Uh…that’s currently debatable,” she replied nervously as she opened the door for us, still dressed in her teal blue pj bottoms and top, her auburn hair still bedheady from the previous night’s sleep. She looked considerably shocked (and still rather sleepy) as she turned around and sat back down on her four-poster bed, the three of us following after her into her room. (Bridget’s room is similar to my own in the fact that we both have a desk and a chair and a walk-in closet, but hers differs from mine in the fact that her room is in the tower, so the walls are circular instead of square or rectangular-shaped.

“What happened?” I asked straightforwardly (or as straightforward as it was as possible for me to be at about 7 o’clock in the morning), raising an eyebrow at her. She glanced away for a second.

“I could have sworn I saw…no, it’s not possible…” The three of us glanced at each other before looking back at her.

“We’re detectives, Bridge; anything’s possible,” I said quietly, Baxter and Mom nodding in agreement. Bridget nodded as well.

“True, but this one just doesn’t make any sense!” she said, looking decidedly bewildered. “He should still be in San Francisco, along with the rest of the skeletons in my closet…”

“Huh? Who did you think you saw?” Bridget gave me a particular look and gestured out her bedroom window.

“Does the name Will Monroe ring any bells with you?” she asked pointedly as the three of us looked out onto the backyard. It took me a minute to think, and then the light bulb suddenly clicked on.

“Wait a minute…as in Fritz Monroe? The little twerp who practically ruined the Flushmann case for us and has a crush on you?” Bridget nodded.

“They never proved the second one, but yeah, the same guy.” She sighed in irritation as she walked over to her dresser, picked out an outfit for the day, and went into her bathroom to get dressed. “Anybody know as to what the Hell he’s doing here in town, if that was him I just saw?” she shouted over the sound of running water. I shrugged my shoulders in response. Mom, however, looked rather guilty.

“His mother, Angela, is the new Vice Principal at Redfern High, Bridge,” Mom called to her as she came out of the bathroom, now fully dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans, her favorite purple turtleneck sweater, her purple high-tops with the teal blue laces, and her black beret. She raised an eyebrow at Mom, her arms crossed in front of her.

“And you decided to conceal that information from me because…?” Bridget enquired as she walked over to her desk and put her glasses on. (She’s practically blind as a bat without them.)

“Well, I knew that one of the reasons why you left the City was because of him, and if you somehow found out that he was here in Redfern after you moved here only a few months before, you would have blown a fuse for sure,” Mom explained quietly, looking pretty sheepish now. Bridget nodded slowly, although her expression was skeptical.

“I guess that makes sense,” she admitted as she quickly grabbed her black Jansport backpack and headed for her bedroom door, Mom, Baxter, and I right behind her…

An hour later, Bridget and myself having eaten breakfast (I had a bowl of Cheerios, Bridget had a bowl of granola), the two of us and our best friend Jennifer Purple, whom we met up with at the corner of our block, were walking to school. All three of us girls were unusually quiet that morning. I was still grumpy because of the dream that I had had the previous night, Bridget was probably still nettled by her supposed sighting of Mr. Monroe, and Jenny is just generally quiet in the mornings. I guess that not one of the three of us can be classified as a “morning person”…well, except for me, that is.
When we got closer to Redfern High, the girls seemed to perk up a little, although Bridget still seemed a little nervous. I pinned it down to “the first day jitters”, which happens a lot and just about every kid on the planet gets ‘em. But poor Bridget most likely had them the worst, as this was her first day in an entirely new school. The only people that she knew so far at Redfern High were: myself, Jenny, and my Mom, who’s the Principal here…
About two feet away from the main steps leading into the main building of Redfern High, Bridget stopped dead in her tracks, her face chalk white and her eyes wide. Of course, since Bridget stopped walking, so did Jennifer and myself. We were wondering what had caused Bridget to stop like that, so we looked around to see if there was anything suspicious. We happened to notice Bridget’s Mr. Monroe, the unfortunate brown-haired doppelganger from this morning. Given poor Bridget’s expression, we realized that this had to be “the real deal”.
“Do you want to go say hi?” I asked her, a little bit on the sarcastic side. Bridget shook her head wordlessly, her mouth still agape. With that, the three of us briskly walked up the main steps and into the building, Bridget silently praying that Will would not notice her…








Chapter 2: Locker Up
“Ruby?” Bridget asked me uncertainly as the three of us walked down the main hallway. “Was I imagining things, or was that…?”
“…Will Monroe we just saw?” I replied, finishing her sentence. She nodded, as did Jenny. “Yeah, that was him all right. Who would’ve thought we’d bump into him here of all places…” The girls nodded again.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Bridget mumbled under her breath as we walked into the Main Office. “What on Earth is he doing here? I thought by leaving home I’d be rid of him!”
“Apparently not, cherie,” I said over my shoulder as I walked over to the main desk, Bridget and Jenny right behind me. “It seems we now have an unfortunately new classmate…” Meanwhile, from behind the main counter, Ms. Lisa-Ann gave us a rather bewildered look. (Then again, it’s the first day of school; she’s probably frazzled from all the insanity going on around here…)
“Can I help you with something, girls?” she asked us as she went through a stack of freshly printed schedules, putting them in alphabetical order. Bridget nodded.
“Um, yeah. I’m here to pick up my schedule,” she replied nervously, drumming her fingers on the countertop while she waited. Ms. Lisa-Ann nodded.
“Name?” she asked quickly as she thumbed through the stack.
“Bridget Katherine Nickels,” Bridget replied tiredly as she started to hum the theme to “Jeopardy!” “My birthday is September 7th, 1989 if that’ll help at all…” Ms. Lisa-Ann nodded again as she quickly rifled through the stack, stopping when she apparently found Bridget’s, then handed it to her.
“This should be the correct schedule,” she said as Bridget perused it. “It seems you’re not the only new student here this year, though.” The three of us nodded again as Ms. Lisa-Ann continued. “A young man also transferred here from California, possibly from the same city as you, Ms. Bridget. He should be here in a minute to fetch his schedule as well.” Bridget sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Out of sheer curiosity, could I take a look at that?” she asked quickly, glancing over at the two of us for a moment. Ms. Lisa-Ann thought for a moment, and then shrugged her shoulders.
“I suppose I could let you take a look at his schedule for a minute,” she said as she handed Will’s schedule across the counter to Bridget. The three of us huddled over it, then suddenly did a double-take. Apparently, William and Bridget would be taking more than one class together this school year…
“Oh, good grief!” Bridget exclaimed. “I’m stuck with him for 5 classes!” She shook her head in disbelief while Jenny and I rolled our eyes at each other. Sometimes, Bridget can be a little overly dramatic. I quickly grabbed the two schedules from her, and scanned them.
“Yup, looks like it,” I said handing our dear Mr. Monroe’s schedule back to Ms. Lisa, and gave Bridget her schedule back as well. I raised an eyebrow at her. “But, you forget, I also have those same classes as well.” Bridget nodded again, looking distracted. I knew why she wasn’t exactly happy about having Will around, but figured I’d ask anyways. That is, until…
“Ah, hello, Will!” Ms. Lisa-Ann exclaimed brightly as a rather familiar-looking old adversary walked into the Office behind us. Bridget’s shoulders tensed as Will walked up beside her, a black Jansport backpack rather similar to hers slung over his right shoulder. “Here to pick up your schedule?”
“Yup,” he said, almost smiling to himself when he noticed how desperately Bridget was trying to ignore him. I’m not entirely sure why he decided to say hi to her when she was doing her best to pretend that he didn’t exist. “Well, well. Bridget Nickels herself. Never thought I’d see you here.” She slowly turned around to look at him, and raised an eyebrow.
“That makes two of us, William,” she replied mildly. “When did you and the family move out here?”
“About a month ago or so, give or take a week,” he replied off-handedly, shrugging his shoulders as he took a look at his schedule. Bridget glanced over at us, who were looking just as skeptical as she was.
“Really? How come I haven’t seen you around town, then?” she asked, her arms crossed, trying to stare him down. He shrugged again.
“Beats me,” he said as he grabbed his backpack and headed for the door out into the hallway. “We’ve been unpacking and stuff the last month, plus my Mom’s been here a lot; she’s the Vice Principal now.”
“Yeah, we knew that already,” I quickly cut in before Bridget could put in a proper retort. “My Mom’s the Principal here, so we hear all the school-related news from her.” Will nodded, then headed out into the hallway and out of sight for the time being. Jenny and I turned to look at Bridget, and raised an eyebrow. “Ok, Bridge. What’s so bad about having five classes with him? It seems like he’s matured a bit…” Bridget rolled her eyes at that.
“Well, appearances can be rather deceiving,” she quipped as she grabbed her backpack and headed upstairs to where our lockers were, Jenny and I walking right behind her. “If you judge a person on face value alone and don’t see anything past that, you tend to make an ass out of yourself.” I nodded in agreement.
“So, any ideas as to what we’re going to do about Will?” I asked. Bridget shrugged her shoulders as she slammed her locker door shut
“I’m not entirely sure,” she said, shrugging her shoulders in response. “I ain’t exactly happy that he’s here, but I suppose we should be glad that we’re not working with him on a case!” Jennifer and I nodded in agreement, then did a double take when we realized she was already headed for the staircase.
Before either Jenny or myself could manage to get a word in edgewise, the bell rang, noisily summoning us all to get our butts to homeroom, or direly suffer the consequences if we were late. Bridget, myself, and Jenny all sighed in annoyance.

“Come on, guys,” Bridget said, grabbing her bag and heading for the Main Building. “We’ve got to get to Homeroom.” And with that, the three of us set off, not necessarily knowing what would follow…

Chapter 3: The Lunchroom Dine ‘n’ Dash

One week after the incident in the Main Office, things hadn’t improved much. Our dear Miss Bridget was still way ticked by the fact that Will was at school with us, and was trying to do everything within her power to avoid him at all costs. Neither Jennifer nor myself understood why Bridget was avoiding him, but we both felt sorry for Will…

One day, Bridget went so far out of her way to avoid him that she fled the cafeteria when she saw him, leaving poor me there to talk to him. Am I not making sense to you? I’ll try to explain…Here’s the gist of what happened…

Bridget, Jennifer, and myself were all standing in line at the school cafeteria that day at lunch, trying to figure out what to order. My current boyfriend, Ethan Brighte (who Bridget calls either “Mr. Not-So-Brighte” or “The Jerk”; it just depends on her mood…) had promised to get a table for us at our favorite spot, which was exceedingly nice of him. I had just paid Mrs. Thro (one of the people who runs the school cafeteria) for my cup of minestrone soup and soda and was heading over to our table when I realized that Ethan was not sitting by himself. I stopped walking for a second, quickly trying to figure out what I should do, knowing full well that Bridget was not going to like this…

I quickly turned to talk to her, as she and Jennifer had caught up to me, and said, “Uh, Bridge? We’ve got a slight problem…” Bridget, who was managing to balance both her chicken salad sandwich and a Coca-cola in one hand, her books in the other, gave me a Look and sighed.

“Let me guess…” she said, annoyed for the umpteenth time that day. “Fritz is sitting at our table, n’est-ce pas?” I nodded. Bridget groaned again. “I just saw him in Chemistry, and I still have to deal with him in US History! Can’t he just leave me alone?!” She shook her head sadly. “That’s it! I’m going to the Library!” And with that, she headed out the Cafeteria doors, through the breezeway and out into the Courtyard.

Jennifer looked at me and said, “You know, Ruby, I think I’ll go join her. I’ve gotta finish my History homework anyways; maybe Bridge’ll give me a hand with it…”

“She probably will,” I said as I headed towards the table and Jennifer headed outside. “Just make sure you don’t mention Mr. You-Know-Who sitting over there,” I called over my shoulder as she followed after Bridge. As I approached the table, I could tell that they were having an awkward time. “Great,” I grumbled as I weaved my way past the other tables towards our corner in the back. “Looks like it’s up to me to salvage this situation.”

“Hi, Ethan,” I said sweetly as I sat down next to him at the table, and kissed his cheek. I glanced over at Will and raised an eyebrow at him. “Will Monroe? This is a surprise. To what do I owe the honor of you sitting at our table?” Ethan looked embarrassed for a second, while Will merely smiled.
“I was talking to Ethan about the possibility of me trying out for the school baseball team, and happened to spot you and the girls over by the counter.” He looked around for a minute, slightly perplexed. “Speaking of, where are those two?” I sighed and rolled my eyes.
“Bridget suddenly remembered that her paper for Levap isn’t done yet and dashed off to the Library, as did Jenny,” I said, wondering if Will would figure the actual reason for her sudden disappearance out for himself. “If you don’t bump into her now, you’ll definitely see her in U.S. History.” He raised an eyebrow at me across the table, then smiled again.
“Good to hear,” he said, pausing for a second as he looked at me. “So, the three of you still running that detective agency?” Ouch. If he was aiming for a nerve, he definitely hit one. He knows full well that that’s a sore spot, especially considering the fact that he nearly ruined us…
“Yeah, we are. Your little stunt during the Flushmann case actually earned us our detective’s badges instead of blacklisting us, though we’re still not allowed to handle firearms. And what happened to you? Still shoving paperwork in your Dad’s office?” I smiled smugly as Will flustered. Ethan quickly excused himself to the bathroom, as he unconsciously didn’t want to be privy to a grudge match. “I take it I’m right?”
“Not necessarily,” he replied slowly, as he took a sip of his soda and glanced out the window for a moment. “For starters, my Dad’s not a judge anymore.”
“Oh, really? I’m sorry to hear that…”
“I wouldn’t be,” he said off-handedly as he took a bite of his burger and ate a couple fries. “He’s a cop these days.” I suddenly glanced up at him, surprised. It was Will’s turn to grin this time. “You didn’t know that? Huh. I thought the whole town knew by now…” It suddenly dawned on me as to why Will and his family moved to Redfern (besides his Mom being the Vice-Principal at school).
“Wait a minute! You mean your Dad’s a cop here? Why didn’t anyone tell us?” He grinned again as Ethan slid back into his seat next to me.
“Maybe Chief Denton forgot to tell you girls? You three generally don’t work with the P.D…or so I’ve heard.” He suddenly glanced up at the wall clock and did a double-take. “Holy crud! It’s almost 1:30? I gotta go grab my books!” He quickly scooted out of his chair, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the door. “See ya in class!”
“What was all that about?” Ethan said curiously, as he looked from my dumbstruck expression to Will’s departing backside and back. I merely shook my head in response.
“I honestly have no clue on that one…but I’m going to get one,” I replied, wondering how on Earth Will knew that the R.D.A. (meaning us) didn’t work with the Redfern Police Department. I paused for a moment, thinking. “Ok, to clear something he said, technically we are under the Police Department’s jurisdiction and are a part of them, but we prefer to work on our own when it comes to cases…don’t know why he brought that up…”
“Something he say annoy you, babe?”
“Nah, just Will being his delightful little self. However, the fact that his Dad is now a cop here in Redfern and the fact that no one told us that is seriously out of place. I think it may be time to give Grayson a call…”
“You mean Grayson Burke?” Ethan asked suspiciously. “Why would you call him?”
“I need information, and Grayson can get it for me. You may not like him much, but he is rather good at digging up dirt,” I replied as I grabbed my bookbag and dumped the remainder of my lunch in the trash, Ethan right behind me as I headed for the door and the breezeway outside.
“Of course I don’t like him! He’s had the hots for you for ages! Can’t you get your information from someone else?” Ethan’s face was almost bright red now. I sighed and shook my head at him.
“Ethan, Sam is out in Florida visiting her grandparents, Tabor is up in Cleveland for a conference, and Chlorine is AWOL. Grayson’s the only person I’ve got around right now who can help on this one.” Ethan looked like he was about to say something, but I held up a hand. “And before you even think about mentioning it, I am not asking Ronnie or the girls!”
“Why can’t you?!”
“Ronnie would have a field day with that information, I’m doubting Jenny knows anything on this, and if Bridget found out that Will’s dad now works for the Redfern P.D. and that no one told her, she’d probably murder Will!”
“So what’re you going to do?”
“I’m going to ask Grayson about it, as was previously mentioned. I don’t really have a choice, and he’s a good guy.” I sighed again and smiled at my Not-So-Brighte boyfriend. “Eth, I know you don’t like him that much, but could you please trust me on this?” I gave him my best puppy dog pout. He sighed irritatedly and smiled.
“Ok, I’ll give it a shot…”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said under my breath as we walked to class…


Chapter 4: The Worst Day Ever


By the time October showed up, things had sort of settled down…well, temporarily. Sure, Bridget and Will were constantly having sparring matches in almost every class they had together, Vivian Baxter (the bitchiest girl at school and one of Baxter’s, our cat, descendants) was being a pain, as per normal, and the teachers were just being themselves and assigning us students a boatload of homework. However, when October 31st rolled around, things went decidedly downhill…

Halloween has never necessarily been Bridget’s favorite holiday, and it has always been a hard day for her. This year, was if possible, her worst Halloween ever. Everything started going badly that morning, when the two of us received an unexpected piece of news from my Mom at breakfast…

Bridget and I were eating our cereal at the long wooden kitchen table when my Mom walked in, looking quite agitated. She was already dressed for work, wearing a dark teal blue suit and a string of pearls around her neck, her dark red hair pulled back in a French twist. Her green eyes were very wide behind her half moon glasses, and she seemed pretty distracted while she was fixing her morning cup of coffee. Bridget and I glanced at each other for a second, before I turned to look back at Mom.

“Mom? Is everything ok?” I asked her, quite worried. She glanced over at us, smiled sadly, and came to sit over at the table with us, carrying her coffee cup with her, of course. She squeezed my shoulders for a second.

“No, honey,” she said quietly, blowing on her coffee for a second and then taking a sip. “Everything is definitely not ‘ok’.” Bridget raised her eyebrows at me again, while I just shrugged my shoulders.

“What happened, Aunt Lena?” Bridget asked quietly, her hazel eyes worried. Mom sighed as she leaned forward on her elbows, massaging her temples.

“Well, Bridge, what happened is definitely not good,” Mom said, glancing at me. She sighed again and shook her head. “Apparently, dearest Marty wants to come visit during the Holidays this year.” Bridget and I both stared at her. The last thing that I was expecting her to say was that…

“What?! Are you kidding me?!” I shrieked in surprise. Mom shook her head. Mom and Bridget nodded sympathetically.

“I wish that I was, honey,” Mom said quietly, getting up from the table and putting her empty coffee cup in the sink. “This was quite a surprise.”

“Yeah, no kidding, Sherlock,” I said sarcastically, as I got up from the table as well and put my cereal bowl in the sink. “ ‘Visiting us’ is definitely out of the blue…” I shook my head sadly, as did Mom. She suddenly glanced at the wall clock.

“Come on, girls. You gotta hurry up and get your costumes on before all three of us are late.” And with that, Bridget and I went upstairs in order to finish getting ready…

Let me just tell you now that the rest of the day did not go well for either Bridget or myself. I’ll elaborate for you. The rest of the day started getting worse in our Chemistry class that morning…

Bridge and I arrived in class a few seconds after the final bell rang, considerably out of breath, as we had run the entire way from Main and 5th street. Ms. Yung (one of the school’s science teachers, who taught Chemistry, Biology, and Integrated Science) glanced at us from behind her projector, and raised an eyebrow. She laughed to herself as me and Bridge headed for our table, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. (Then again, considering the fact that I was dressed up as Ariel, and Bridget was dressed up as Belle, it was kind of hard to pull that off…). Bridget turned white as a sheet when she remembered that she was sitting next to Will, and frantically glanced at me, begging with her eyes for me to trade seats with her. I smiled and shook my head, pretty much meaning “no”, which annoyed her indefinitely. (The fact that she’s been stuck with Will as a science partner hasn’t been fun for her.) She grumpily turned around in her seat again, and began unpacking her backpack, doing her best to avoid Will’s gaze.

Meanwhile, Ms. Yung (who was patiently waiting for Bridget and myself to take our seats) cleared her throat and said, “Now that Ruby and Bridget have sat down, we can begin today’s lesson on the different types of chemical bonds. Please note,” she continued as our fellow classmates and we rummaged around for our notebooks and pens. “That there will be a quiz on this lesson next Friday.” Everyone groaned when they heard that. She raised an eyebrow at us, shaking her head sadly. “Well, it could be considerably worse than that; I could make you take the quiz this Friday instead.” She paused for a moment, and looked around at us all. “No? Well then, next Friday it is. And speaking of exams, I finally finished grading your Chapter 4 tests. I must admit,” she added as she walked around the classroom, handing back the tests, “that very few of you actually passed this one.”

That last comment of hers made me more than a little anxious as to how I did on the test. I had a strong hunch that I did not do very well, as a matter of fact. And when she handed mine back to me, I was not necessarily surprised to see the 55% scrawled across the top of my paper in bright red ink. My grade, coupled with her comment underneath it, made me feel pretty badly. I shook my head sadly, wondering how on Earth I was going to get myself out of this mess. I glanced over at Bridget for a second, and did a double take when I saw her staring down at her paper in shock. I waved a hand in front of her face.

“Bridge? Are you ok?” I asked her worriedly. Bridget just stared back at me, and wordlessly handed me her test. My jaw dropped when I saw her score.

“Wow, Bridge! A 95%! That’s great!” I said as I handed her test back to her. I paused for a second before adding, under my breath, “That’s considerably better than how I did…”

“How did you do?” Bridget asked me quietly as she quickly put her test in her binder so she wouldn’t forget it later, apparently having heard my comment. I glanced away for a second, feeling embarrassed.

“Not very well, as it turns out,” I said quietly, looking down at my test again. I looked back at her, and smiled sadly. “Then again, that’s life for ya. You win some, you lose some.” Bridget nodded in agreement as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her right ear.

“That’s considerably true, Ruby,” she said, as she looked over at the board and started to copy the notes. She glanced over at me for a second, and raised her eyebrows. She gestured towards my notebook and said, “Aren’t you going to copy the notes? We’re already behind!”

“All right, all right,” I said, just a little bit annoyed now. “I’m copying all ready…”

After Chemistry, things somehow got even worse. Bridget ended up with a double detention after she told off Redfern High’s Home Economics teacher, Mrs. Hedges, in our class that morning, as did I when I tried to defend her. After that, things went to Hell in a handbasket. By the time lunch rolled around, I was near tears and Bridget was feeling pretty sick, so we headed for the Main Office to see if we could possibly go home early from school that day.

Bridget and I were sitting in the two wooden chairs next to the wall, right by the door into my Mom’s office, which was also close to Ms. Lisa Ann’s desk. I was very grumpy, and poor Bridget was looking really green about the gills. Ms. Lisa Ann, who was sitting behind the desk going through old envelopes and transcripts, raised an eyebrow at the two of us. She quickly noted the fact that Bridget looked like she was about to hurl, and wasn’t very surprised when she leaned over the nearby trashcan and vomited. She and I both winced when we heard the remains of Bridge’s lunch come into contact with the plastic bag that lined the trashcan.

“I’ll get your mom,” she said matter-of-factly as she walked into Mom’s office while we both sat there, me twiddling my thumbs and Bridget puking like crazy. Ms. Lisa-Ann and Mom thankfully came back out before Bridge could vomit again. Ms. Lisa-Ann walked back over to her post behind the desk and Mom walked over to us, looking quite worried.

“Girls? What’re you doing here? What’s wrong?” she asked, considerably worried. I looked up at her, my bright green eyes unexpectedly starting to go blurry with unshed tears, and started sobbing right there in the Main Office. Mom gave me a hug, and rubbed my back until I managed to calm down again. She gave me a look and said, “Ruby, what happened? You girls should be at lunch, not in here.”

“Mom, Bridge and I have had a horrible day so far!” I burst out, sniffing for a second, trying to regain some sense of composure. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now what happened in Home Ec this morning with us and Mrs. Hedges…” Mom nodded, her expression sympathetic as I continued. “Honestly, this wasn’t our fault. Mrs. Hedges did say that Bridget was ‘a lazy ignoramus who never does anything right’! Bridget was sticking up for herself, and I was backing her up on that. Bridget was speaking the truth when she said that Mrs. H was ‘a stuck-up, small-minded bitch that was trying to force her small-minded agenda onto everyone else’! I don’t think it’s fair that we’re stuck with a double detention when we were merely exercising the rights granted to us in the First Amendment…”

Mom sighed, and raised an eyebrow at me. “I know it doesn’t seem fair to either of you (and I do agree with you on that one; she is out of line for what she said!) but you were still disrespectful to her, and that is not tolerated here. Therefore, the fact that you two received detention is perfectly valid.” I nodded, my expression downcast.

“I feel like I want to rip someone’s head off, and poor Bridge is sick as a dog…” I gestured over at my poor cousin, who was still vomiting copiously into the trashcan. Mom glanced over at her for a second, wincing. I looked back up at her. “Can Bridge and I go home for the rest of the day?”

Mom paused for a moment to think, then turned to look at the two of us. “Will you girls be missing any important classes this afternoon if I let you go home now?” I shook my head, meaning “no”. (Bridget would have too had she been able to do so.)

“No, it’s just Homeroom and that assembly this afternoon,” I said, rubbing my neck with my hand for a minute. I looked back up at her, imploringly. “Please, Mom? Bridge’s sick and she’ll need someone to help take care of her. Besides, I’ve already had a very bad day as it is. Please?”

Mom glanced over at Ms. Lisa-Ann for a second, who shrugged her shoulders, and then turned to look back at us. She sighed. “All right, you girls can go home now. But make sure that you get plenty of rest, Bridget Katherine! And as for you, Rubiana Rissa, you better take care of your homework before doing any office work, all right?” Bridget and I nodded, both of us managing weak smiles. Mom smiled back, and gestured out the door. “All right, off with you two! I’ll tell Jenny what happened later,” she added as we tiredly walked out of the main doors and headed for home, thankful that our bad day was done for the time being…

Chapter 5:
A Death in the Teachers’ Lounge

So, after the nastiness that was Halloween had dissipated, things more or less became normal again. Bridget thankfully got over the flu, and I somehow managed to get over the fact that I had done so poorly on a test. (Mom was quite surprised when she saw how I did, needless to say.) All three of us girls (not to mention Jenny and Baxter) were still in shock over the fact that Marty was going to come visit in December. Considering the fact that this was very unlike him, we had a good reason to be surprised by it. However, something happened at school during the first week of November that drove it out of our minds for the time being…

On the morning of my 17th birthday, November 5th, Mom, Bridget, and I arrived at Redfern High a little earlier than usual, as Mom had a staff meeting before school started that morning. For some strange reason, we found the entire campus completely crawling with the Redfern P.D., which made us wonder as to what on earth was going on. When we got close to the main doors into the building, we saw our friend and fellow coworker Grayson Burke (who works in Forensics, Homicide and in the Chem. lab at the station, and also goes to school with us) talking to Angela Monroe, the Vice-Principal and Will’s mom. He was wearing an old fedora and a khaki trench coat this morning over his jeans and black t-shirt, which was rather bizarre.

“He’s not much of a mysterious guy, huh?” Bridget asked me as she and I walked over to where they were with Mom. I shrugged my shoulders as I adjusted my bag strap.

“Well, that wardrobe’s a bit of a headscratcher sometimes,” I replied as we walked up to him and Mrs. Monroe. I smiled and said, “Morning, Mrs. Monroe. Grayson.” I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. “Grayson, what’re you doing here so early? And why didn’t you call me back?” Grayson rolled his eyes and shook his head, sighing.

“Nice to see you too, Ruby,” he said dryly, raising an eyebrow at me. “As far as returning your phone call goes, things have been rather busy at my end with school work and the like. However, I’m pretty sure you’ve got at least an inkling as to why young Master William is here in town. It is related to the fact that his dad is a cop here in town.” He paused for a moment, looking rather perplexed. “But I’m surprised that you yourself don’t know why I’m here. Didn’t you girls get our phone message this morning?” Bridget and I exchanged glances for a second, considerably surprised.

“You mean, you guys actually called us this morning?” Bridget asked him in disbelief, one of her eyebrows raised. She glanced at me for a second. “That’s a definite surprise.” I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, no kidding, Bridge,” I said, actually agreeing with her instead of being sarcastic as always. I turned to look at Grayson again. “No, we didn’t get your phone message, Gray,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m guessing you called after we left the house. What exactly did you guys call us about? Apparently something major happened, otherwise this place wouldn’t be so busy as it is now.” Grayson nodded.

“At approximately 7 o’clock this morning, the janitor discovered the body of one Teresa Hedges in the teachers’ lounge slumped over the table. Cause of death is currently unknown.” We all stared at him, quite shocked by what he just said. I mean, just about everybody at Redfern High knew Mrs. Hedges (and not that many people liked her, I should add); she had been the Home Economics teacher for over ten years! But who on Earth would want to do her in…?

“Resa?” Mom murmured to herself, her eyes wide in shock. “How horrible!” And with that, she burst into tears. Mrs. Monroe put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly while Bridget and I nodded in agreement (although on the inside we were both cheering). I looked over at Grayson again, and raised an eyebrow.

“Did you or any of your crew manage to pick up anything of interest at the crime scene yet?”

“You mean the Teachers’ Lounge?” Grayson replied, laughing for a second. He shook his head, his brown eyes tired. “Nu-uh. We haven’t had time to go over the place yet; the investigation team from the lab (not to mention those snoopin’ reporters from the Redfern Herald, of course) have been taking pictures and stuff since Mrs. H’s body was found.” He sighed and shook his head again. Bridget and I looked at each other again for a moment and nodded.

“Is it alright with you if Ruby and I take a look around?” Bridget asked him quietly, leaning against one of the railings. Grayson thought for a moment while Mom and Mrs. Monroe looked on, probably wondering amongst themselves as to what they were going to do next.

“What’re you asking me for? You’re detectives!” Grayson said. “I’ll let Jenny know where you two are as soon as she gets here. Just make sure you let Chief Denton know what you’re up to.”

“We will,” the two of us chorused as we headed up the steps and inside the Main Building. We quickly walked past the empty Main Office and the Student Tutorial Room, headed for the main staircase that connected all three floors (plus the Cafeteria and the Auditorium) of the Main Building together. As we started walking down the staircase, headed in the direction of the Teachers’ Lounge and trying to weave our way through the crowd of early-morning students, teachers, and reporters who were milling around, Bridget stopped dead in her tracks, an idea suddenly popping into her head.

“Ruby,” she said, pausing on the staircase for a moment, nervously adjusting her black beret so that it was at a “more becoming” angle and straightening her plum-colored sweater. “What if Will’s being in Redfern at the same time as me isn’t exactly a coincidence?” I turned around to look back up at her, wondering why on Earth she was asking that question at a time like this (and of course wondering why on Earth it took her that long to ask that).

“You mean, what if Will followed you out here?” I replied sardonically, emphasizing the last four words. “Gee, Bridge, I don’t know why Will would do a thing like that.”

“It was just a question, Rubiana,” Bridget replied sullenly, sighing as she quickly adjusted her bookbag strap and we continued walking down the stairs. “It’s not like it was the end of the world…”

“I know, Bridge,” I said, attempting to be a bit nicer to her. We finally ended up on the bottom floor of the building (a.k.a. The Sophomore Hallway, as that’s where their lockers were) and headed towards the Teachers’ Lounge. “But you could’ve chosen a better time to be asking that particular question.”

“Quite true, cherie,” Bridge said in agreement as we finally arrived in front of the crime scene, only to find it roped off with yellow tape and one of the officers (Chief Denton, I believe) guarding the door. Her expression quickly changed to one of nervousness as he gave us a once-over. “However, I’m going to have to ask that question at some point at a later time if I can’t ask it now.”

“Fair enough,” I said in favor of her idea. I smiled briefly at Chief Denton while I rummaged for my badge and I.D. tag in my bookbag. “Morning, Chief.” He grinned at that, even though the current situation wasn’t the nicest. (Chief Denton reminds both Bridget and me of her Uncle Dave; blue eyes, brown hair, is relatively tall and is a “good guy”. He recently lost a hefty amount of weight, so he’s looking pretty fit these days. All three of us girls in the Agency like him, as he’s very nice and helpful…)

“Morning, Detective Redfern, Detective Nickels,” he replied, giving each of us girls a salute and a wink. He looked up and down the hallway for a second and then turned to look back at us, his expression quizzical. “Where’s Detective Purple?” Bridget and I shrugged our shoulders in response.

“No idea, Chief,” Bridget answered distractedly while looking for her badge and I.D. somewhere within the recesses of her teal blue bookbag. “I’m pretty sure that Grayson’s called both Jenn’s cell-phone and her house about ten minutes ago, to let her know what happened, but we haven’t heard back yet. Most likely she’s still asleep.” I nodded in agreement, Chief nodding as well.

“Well, here’s hoping she gets here soon. You ladies ready to cross over?” he asked us, raising an eyebrow.

“What, are we crossing the Jordan? Of course we are!” Bridget shook her head, annoyed by that question of his. Chief grinned again, his blue eyes twinkling.

“All right, Miss Bridge. Just thought I’d ask,” he replied, chuckling to himself. His expression darkened for a moment, as he glanced at the scene behind him and then back at us. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you two…” Chief quickly stepped aside and Bridget and I ducked under the tape and stepped into the Teachers’ Lounge.

The scene that met our eyes when we stepped in was utter chaos. Most of the C.S.I. team (including Grayson, who had somehow appeared inside the Teachers’ Lounge without us knowing) was milling around the table where Mrs. Hedges’ body had been found that morning (you could tell which table it was, as there was a chalk outline of where the corpse had been), dusting for fingerprints and the like. The remainder of the Redfern P.D. (or at least the main officers and a few of the main detectives) were standing over by the coffee maker, talking amongst themselves and watching the C.S.I. team do their thing. And of course, besides the fine men of the Redfern P.D. and the diligent C.S.I. crew, hanging around the table snapping photos and trying to get statements from the officers was Veronica Vamp and her photographer from the Redfern Herald.

“Where should we start?” Bridget asked me while we placed our bags on top of one of the nearby tables and were still looking around at everything that was going on. I shrugged my shoulders and sat down in one of the chairs, Bridge following suit.

“I dunno, Bridge,” I replied, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by everything for a second. “It looks pretty busy in here.”

“Yeah, no kidding, cherie,” Bridget said sarcastically, turning to look behind her for a second. She quickly turned back around to face me and said tiredly, “Heads up. Tramp alert.” (The Tramp is our nickname for Veronica, in regards to the trampy way she dresses; it’s not a very nice nickname, but then again, she hasn’t been the nicest to us.)

“Oh, joy.” I said dryly as Veronica and co. headed our way. “Must she interview us so early in the morning?” Bridget and I both shook our heads, sighing.

“Well, maybe she doesn’t want to,” Bridget said hopefully, her mood brightening for a second. I rolled my eyes at that.

“Yeah, and maybe Will didn’t follow you out here to Redfern!” I said sarcastically. “Come on, Bridge! Use that head of yours…”

“I am, Ruby!” she said indignantly, crossing her arms and glaring at me. “I’m just saying that…”

“I know you’re ‘just saying that’, Bridge,” I said, realizing that I should not have necessarily snapped at her this early. “But I’m just trying to be reasonable.”

“It’s nice to see that someone is,” Veronica chimed in, more than a little snidely. Bridget and I turned around to see dear Veronica and her photographer JJ standing there, looking quite pleased.

“Nice outfit, Ronnie,” I said, Bridget and I both sniggering. She blushed pink, of course. That morning, she was wearing a black bustier, a fire-engine-red mini-skirt, black fishnet elbow-length gloves (fingerless), black stockings, and shiny red pleather pumps. Her short brown hair was all curly around her face, and her nails had recently been manicured as well. (She thought she looked good, but Bridge, myself, and Jenny all thought that she ought to be on “What Not To Wear”).

“Why thank you, Ms. Ruby,” she said smiling at us, her green eyes glinting behind her cat-eye glasses. (She honestly thought that that was a compliment…?) “Your outfits are nice as well.” Bridget and I both grinned at that. (Hey, we both knew for a fact that our outfits would definitely not be found within the latest issue of Playboy Magazine!)

“Was there something you wanted, Veronica?” Bridget asked her pointedly, her hazel eyes twinkling behind her glasses. “Because if not, the C.S.I. team just finished going over the table where Mrs. Hedges’ body was found, and it’s our turn to take a look.” I smiled at Bridge as Veronica flushed pink again.

“I was wondering if you two girls would be so kind as to give me a statement for the Herald? Or possibly an interview?” She looked imploringly at us, her green eyes wide behind her glasses. I sighed. (This is one of those times that my conscience smote me. As annoying as Veronica is, no matter how many times she’s smack talked about me, Bridget & Jenny in that horrible column of hers, she is still a friend of ours…even if she can’t dress very well…)

“I’m sorry, Ronnie,” I said tiredly, shaking my head at her. “But there just isn’t time right now. Maybe we can give you a statement when we actually know more about the case, ok?”

“Yeah,” Bridget said, quickly chiming in after seeing how crestfallen Veronica looked. “And maybe I could give you an interview later.”

“Would you really do that?” Veronica asked, suddenly perking up. We nodded in agreement (although we both had just gotten ourselves into more trouble than we realized at the time, even though it was a good thing we did for her.) She grinned at us, wiped a tear off of her obviously powdered cheek, and hugged us tightly. “Oh, thanks you guys! I promise I won’t let you down!” And with that, she and her photographer left, Bridget and I (and everyone else who was still in the Teachers’ Lounge) feeling quite relieved…

“Boy, I thought they were never going to leave,” Grayson said, laughing for a second. He was standing next to the open refrigerator, and was currently rummaging around for something to eat. He quickly plucked out an apple, and was about to take a bite when…

“Lieutenant Grayson Burke, are you removing a piece of evidence from the crime scene?” Officer Bullock asked him coldly, glaring at him. Grayson hastily turned around to face him, his back to the refrigerator, quickly trying to hide the “piece of evidence” behind his back. (Bullock is somewhere in his late fifties, tending a little bit on the overweight side, is grumpy, grouchy, a bit of a hard-nose, and is a recent transfer from a city somewhere on the East coast. He’s not very well liked in the P.D., although he did help us girls with a case over the summer.) “Because if so, I could have you locked up for it.” The whole room laughed at that.

“Harvey, calm down already,” Chief said, ducking under the Caution tape and walking over to where Officer Bullock was threatening poor Grayson. “It’s just an apple, for Pete’s sake! How can it possibly be a ‘piece of evidence’ if it’s been sitting in that fridge?” Everyone laughed again as Bullock turned beet red, his mustache bristling. He gave Grayson a dirty look and went to stand over by the coffee maker again. Grayson, now left in peace, quickly began munching his apple, quite happy.

Chief, meanwhile, had suddenly noticed that Bridget and I were sitting down at the table. He raised an eyebrow at us, chuckling to himself. “What, you girls haven’t checked the table out yet?” He shook his head sadly. “I would’ve expected better from ‘Redfern’s premier detective agency’.” Bridget and I giggled at that, although he did remind us as to what we were supposed to be doing.

“Sorry, Chief,” I said sincerely as Bridget and I got up from the table and walked over to the one where Mrs. H’s body had been found that morning. “We would’ve gotten right on it, but we were still waiting for the C.S.I. crew to finish up. And besides,” I said, pausing while I pulled on my white cotton gloves and quickly fished my magnifying glass out of my jacket pocket, Bridget doing the same thing. “Veronica Vamp managed to corner us.” Chief nodded sympathetically as Bridget and I began going over the table carefully.

Glancing over the table quickly, nothing seemed amiss, but if you took a closer look, a few things stood out noticeably. One of the first things that caught my attention was Mrs. Hedges’ coffee mug, which was sitting in the same exact spot where it had been left when Mrs. H had keeled over, complete with the remains of her coffee inside it. I picked it up cautiously off of the table, making sure to not smudge it, and began looking at it more closely.

“Hey, Bridge,” I called across the table at her. “Come take a look at this, will ya?” She quickly walked around the table to over where I was, clutching something green and oddly shaped in her right hand. She put the item down on top of the table as I handed the coffee mug to her so she could take a look at it.

“Nothing seems to be noticeably out-of-place,” she said musingly as she ran her cotton-gloved fingers over the outside of the mug. She peered inside the mug again, but did a double take this time, her hazel eyes widening. “Hang on a minute. Ruby, what’s that funny white stuff at the bottom of the mug?” She quickly handed the mug back to me.

“I dunno,” I said perplexedly as I looked inside the cup again. I stuck the first finger of my left hand inside the mug and wiped some of the unknown substance onto my finger. “I’m guessing that this is some sort of powder. It sure feels like one…”

“Don’t most powders dissolve instantly in liquids?” Bridget asked me, an eyebrow raised. I nodded slowly.

“Most powders or powder-like substances do dissolve in most liquids, but apparently this one didn’t.” I placed the coffee mug back on the table again, considerably curious and confused in regards to it and its contents.

“Any ideas as to what it could be?”

“No clue, Bridge,” I replied tiredly, shrugging my shoulders. “I think I’m going to take the mug over to the chemistry lab and see if I can figure out what this is.”

“Sounds like a good idea, Ruby,” Bridget said in agreement. “But before you dash off to the chem. lab over in Ms. Yung’s room, take a look at what I found.”

“Bien sur,” I said in French, a bit worn-out after the morning’s ordeals. She quickly handed me the oddly shaped green item, which I immediately began to peer more closely at. The unidentified green object was relatively small (probably about an inch or two long) and could easily fit into the palm of my hand. The surface of it was smooth and cool to the touch, although it was a little rough around the edges. The shape was quite odd as well. It looked a bit like the top of a wine-opener (one of the corkscrew ones), except for the fact that it had been broken near the top. Color-wise, it appeared to be a solid green if you just glanced at it, but looking closer at it, you could see hints of yellow-green and a bit of teal mixed in.

“Any ideas as to what that is?” Bridget asked me, gesturing at the green unknown. I shrugged my shoulders again as I put the item back on the table and we sat back down over at the table where we had left our things. I rubbed my temples for a second while Bridget sighed and shook her head.

“Your guess is as good as mine in regards to what that thing is, Bridge,” I replied wearily, wanting to be out of the Teachers’ Lounge and over in the chemistry lab. “But I think it’s a safe bet to say that it’s some sort of stone or gem.” Bridget nodded in agreement.

“What do you think we should do with it?” she asked me, apparently not realizing that that was a question with a very obvious answer.

“Don’t you think we ought to investigate it? It is a rather important piece of evidence, after all.” I shook my head at her while Bridget grinned sheepishly back at me.

“Oops! Guess I asked a bit of an obvious question, huh?” Bridget shook her head at herself as I nodded. Her expression changed back to one of seriousness, however, as she quickly got her mind back to the task at hand. “Well, in regards to the little green item, I’m in favor of dusting it for fingerprints.” She paused for a second, her eyebrows contracting. “But shouldn’t we let the P.D. and the C.S.I. team have a look at it first?”

“I dunno, Bridge,” I said uncertainly as I glanced over at the officers and then back at her. “It depends on whether you really want to let them do that…and you’ve never been one for letting the P.D. do that kind of thing.”

“I just thought I’d be considerate of other people for once instead of just immediately grabbing the evidence (or any evidence in particular) before the P.D.’s had a chance to get a good look at it,” Bridget said off-handedly as she got up from her chair and quickly grabbed her jacket and slung it over her shoulder (not realizing that she had left her bookbag behind).

“Where are you going off to?” I exclaimed in surprise as she headed back towards the doorway. I quickly got up myself, grabbed my bag and the coffee mug (my cotton gloves still on, of course) and headed after her.

“I’m going back to the house to get a little more sleep and then call the morgue and see if I can get anything in regards to Mrs. H’s condition from the coroner,” Bridget replied as she paused in the doorway for a second.

“That sounds like a good plan, cherie, but aren’t you forgetting something?” I sighed in annoyance as Bridget’s eyes widened in surprise yet again.

“Oh, my God! My bookbag!” she exclaimed in surprise as she quickly raced back to the table where she had left it only to find…

“Will Monroe. What are you doing here?” Bridget asked him, quite surprised by his unexpected and rather sudden appearance.

Will, who looked quite pleased with himself, smirked. “I’m here to investigate the crime scene, Bridget. What else would I be doing in the Teachers’ Lounge?” He laughed to himself while Bridget and I stared at him, dumbfounded. Bridget was the first of us to come to her senses.

“What?! You shouldn’t even have your license back after the Flushmann case!” she retorted, glaring at him. “Whoever decided to give you a second chance was an idiot!”

“I agree! That should not have happened!” I added, glaring at him as well.

“Since when?!” he snapped back at us, his arms crossed. Both of us were giving him the Evil Eye. “Look, I’m really sorry that I screwed up the Flushmann case for you girls, and I can see that you’re still pretty pissed at me for it! But like it or not, I’m a detective again, and here’s your lousy proof.” He dug into his back jeans pocket, pulled out his wallet, and roughly handed it to her. We flipped it open, and right in front of us was hard evidence that could not be ignored: his detective’s badge, complete with his license number, picture I.D., basic information, and the badge itself. Bridget, her expression irate, flipped the wallet shut and promptly threw it at its owner’s head! Or rather, where his head would have been had he not ducked in time.

“What was that for?!” Will asked her incredulously as he picked his wallet back up off of the floor and shoved it back into his pocket.

“You know what that was bloody well for, William Monroe!” Bridget snapped at him, her fists clenched. (Uh-oh, bad sign. Inch away slowly before more things become airborne…) I quickly ducked around the back end of the round table over to where Bridget had left her bag in order to get away from any soon-to-be flying objects.

“Oh, wait. You threw that at me because of the fact that I’m a detective again and I didn’t tell you? Or are you trying to get back at me for something else?” Will snapped right back at her.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Bridget shrieked at him, her cheeks nearly red. “You’re imagining things!”

“Well, then so are you, Your Worship!” Will said scoffing.

“Whatever you say, Han Solo,” Bridget replied, rolling her eyes at the ceiling, the shouting match ceasing momentarily…before she dove right in again. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a detective again?!”

“Good question! Why didn’t you tell me (or anyone else, for that matter) that you were leaving San Francisco?!” Will shouted at her, quite ticked off now.
“I thought nobody cared!” she shouted back, now near tears. (All of the officers, myself, and some of the reporters from out in the hallway were watching now…) “My well-being and happiness meant absolutely nothing to just about everybody.”

“You’re wrong!”

“Am I, Will? How about you name one person you know of who actually cares…” And this is where the lightbulb finally clicked on for me. The reason for Will’s being in Redfern was as plain as day: he did care for her, and didn’t want to see her go. Hence, he followed her here. Whether Bridget was ever going to realized that herself and whether Will was going to get the courage up to tell her himself remained to be seen. And before Will could even answer her question…

“That’s enough!!” Chief Denton shouted from across the room, finally intervening. Bridget and Will immediately stopped fighting, although they did continue to glare daggers at each other. Chief walked over to where the two were standing over by the table and deftly stood between them, his expression quite stern.

“Now, I don’t know what started this argument of yours, or why it even happened,” Chief said quietly to Bridget and Will (who were looking rather sheepish now) while the rest of us in the room and out in the hallway listened to him. “But it ends now. Both of you have tempers and are rather apt to lose them quickly, and you need to learn how to control them properly. It is pointless for you two to be arguing over whether or not William should have gotten his license back, because the fact of the matter is, he has it back. And Will, as of today, you’re working in the R.D.A.” That statement definitely caught me off-guard…as well as our fighting foes.

“Wait a minute, Chief,” I said apprehensively as I picked up Bridget’s purse for her and walked around the table to where they were all standing. “You don’t mean that you’re…?”

“…assigning Will to work with us?” Bridget said quite shocked, finishing my question for me. “Oh, Chief, please tell me you’re kidding!”

“Yeah, Chief Denton,” Will said quietly, looking at him. “I kinda don’t want to work in the Agency, so would you mind finding me a different assignment?” Chief glared at all three of us.

“Not one of the three of you actually has a say in this, so shush. It is my decision and mine alone. No one else’s. Young Mr. Monroe has been assigned to work at the Agency in order to help strengthen the ties between itself and the Police Department, as well as to deal with any lingering issues between himself and Miss Bridget. It is a wonderful opportunity for Will to get to know you lovely young ladies better, and besides,” he said, pausing for a moment and grinning at the three of us. “It seems like a fitting punishment, does it not?”

Chapter 6:
Murder by Death, or Death by Murder

Later that same morning, after I had gotten back from the school chemistry lab and Bridget had called the town morgue, the two of us and Jenny met up at the Agency and were hanging out in Bridget’s office in order to discuss what had happened so far…such as our Most Mysterious Mr. Monroe being assigned to work with us, which we were still in shock over. And speaking of him…

“I can not believe that Chief assigned Will to work with us!” Bridget fumed to Jenny and me, banging her fist on the top of her cherry wood desk. She was currently sitting cross-legged in her very comfy red leather desk chair, with her arms crossed and her expression more than a little pouting. Jennifer and I glanced at each other for a minute before nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, I can’t believe it either, but I’m still surprised by the fact that you had a shouting match with that guy!” I said to her, somewhere between approval and disgust as I rummaged through one of the file cabinets over by the door out into the rest of the Office. Bridget rolled her eyes at my comment.

“Well, the fellow’s had it coming to him for ages!” she said quite vehemently while she pulled out her notebook and began looking through it. “I’ve been dying to yell at him for quite a while…”

“You certainly got your wish on that one,” Jennifer said matter-of-factly from the couch, glancing over at Bridget and raising an eyebrow at her. I stopped messing around in the file cabinets and went to sit down in one of the red leather chairs over by the bookcase, on the opposite side of the room from where Jennifer was and over by Bridget’s desk. Jenny continued as soon as I sat down. “But if Will is going to be working with us, Bridge, you are going to have to learn how to be nicer to him.” Bridget glared at her for that.

“What you’re saying makes sense, Jenny, but what if I don’t want to be nicer to him?” she said stubbornly as she rummaged around in one of her desk drawers for a second, apparently looking for something.

“Ooh, she’s got a good point on that one, Jen,” I said quietly as I looked across the room at her, and then back at Bridget for a second. “Neither of them has been very nice to each other. They’ve got quite a history of…” I trailed off, not quite sure as to what I should say next. (Or, in this case, what I could say that wouldn’t get me beaten up by Bridget…)

“A history of what? Romantic issues?” Jennifer said scoffing, which was a little bit out-of-character for her, I probably should mention. Bridget laughed at that.

“Romantic issues? Well, not that I know of…” Bridget said tiredly, laughing to herself again. “He and I most definitely have a history of being at each other’s throats all the time, which Ruby pointed out. I’m seriously doubting whether romance has anything to do with this…”

“Are you so sure about that? Then why else would he have followed you out here to Redfern, joined up with the Police Department, and somehow wormed his way into working with us?” I asked her pointedly, having already figured things out for myself. Bridget shrugged her shoulders in response.

“I don’t know, Ruby…maybe he came out here because of the fact that his mom ended up working at the high school and his dad is working with the police department. Or maybe he came out here because he has an old score to settle with me.” She paused for a second, looking at the top of her desk and thinking. She glanced back up at me, her expression wary. “Then again, are we entirely certain that he followed me? This could just be a coincidence…” Jennifer and I glanced at each other again and rolled our eyes.

“There is no way on Earth that this is a coincidence, Bridge!” I said emphatically, Jennifer nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s way too much like ‘Freaky Friday’, Bridge,” Jennifer added, being quite serious. Bridget raised an eyebrow at the two of us.

“Hang on a minute…which one? Do you mean the version that has Jodie Foster as a kid, or the one with Lindsay Lohan and Jamie Lee Curtis that came out in 2003?” she asked us, either really confused or just trying to be a smart mouth. Both Jennifer and I rolled our eyes at that...

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And that's about it so far. There's a lot more, but it's currently between two different notebooks, one of which isn't where I currently am, so that's a problem. Do let me know what you guys think!

Hmm...forgot that there's a few incongruencies here and there. Oh, well. It's still the first draft and is nowhere near being finished, but it's definitely a start...