Kentsville was the definition of the American small town. The town had only one traffic light. In fact, it was the only traffic light for miles. The main street was clad in glass storefronts with hand stenciled business names and previews of the store's finest merchandise. There was a small diner on the edge of town that was a favorite morning hang out for the town's senior population. The hardware store on Main Street was where many teenage boys who attended Kentsville Area High School held a part time job. The largest class to ever graduate from Kentsville High was 132 students. Everything about Kentsville was perfect. The grass was green, the people were friendly, and the children were polite. The parents were children of manufacturers, and the children were children of farmers. They all led simple and peaceful lives.
Kelly Richmond stood on the front porch of her Victorian style home on Main Street. Kelly was twenty-nine years old and had just come back from medical school and came home to carry out her residency at County General Hospital. The house she had just bought was the one she had admired since childhood. She would walk by it on her way home from school everyday and told herself that she was going to have a beautiful house just like it some day. Kelly had lovely auburn hair that cascaded down her shoulders and half way down her back. Her tall athletic build was typical of the girls in the town. Since most were farmers' daughters they got in shape by helping out at home.
As she stood on the porch admiring the scene she knew very well she heard a commotion down the street.