There was crime scene tape at the gates and patrol cars were littered on the campus grounds. Who knew that in the short time it took to cross the campus and come back, so much could happen. The boy picked up his pace. What was this all about?
Right away, he could here the urgent hushed tones of police detectives, all standing in a heavily guarded area. He had hit the jackpot.
Now you see, the reason that all of this was strange was that the posh Prep school was very secluded and left alone to its highness and esteem. It was very quite quiet normally.
He tried to edge in closer and catch a glimpse of the scene, which was now very clearly a crime scene. He was stopped,
"Can't you see what this is, young man? This is a crime scene! This is no place for a boy of your age!" A bigger, African-American police officer barked. Clearly he did not usually get up before nine, so this ungodly hour of seven was wearing on him.
The boy ignored him, which was probably not wise, but he had noticed something was amiss. Then he saw it, or rather, her.
The scene was murder, that fact was now obvious. What the boy noticed was that there was a backpacks contents strewn over a ten-foot perimeter of the body.
The body, now it was something the boy had never even thought of in his wildest imagination. From a criminal standpoint, it was pure genius. The body, which was a girl, had small, neat cuts through each finger, so no print could be lifted, clearly.
The girl was shockingly pale, and if the boy were putting two and two together, he would have realized that the reason for her aura of whiteness was because all her blood had drained out, because this way her blood could not be traced. Though you should really cut the boy a break, seeing as this was his first body.
Something had most likely poisoned her, seeing as her face was swollen beyond recognition. At this point there was no way to identify the victim. The murderer was clever.
The girl wore the Prep schools standard uniform, so personal style was not a factor in the search for her identity. Her backpack, already being meticulously sorted through by some of the detectives, who the boy now knew were homicide. They did not seem to be finding her identification card, and this was agitating to the detectives.
As the boy turned his head to look away, something flashed on the body and he looked again, and it was then he saw it. Clasped in her hand was a necklace.
Ignoring the yells of the officer, he walked towards the body and unclenched her hand. His hunch was right, she was holding a necklace in her hand. He knew the girls identity in an instant.
"Young man, please back away from the body and tell us your name." The original officer who had yelled at him said.
"My name is Carter Stone, and I can do something none of you can." The boy stated.
The officer looked peeved, "And what is that?" All heads were now facing them.
"I can ID the body."