Sadie didn't realize she'd been staring at the photograph of her deceased client for a full hour until the clock chimed seven. She'd been staring at it ever since she'd gotten home, not having been in the mood to cuddle Melvin or make dinner for herself quite yet, having had no appetite. She was growing curious into how the sweet child in the photograph had decided to become such a surly punk in death. She had many questions to ask Lars when they met again, both regarding the case, and his situation. She just needed to know.
It wasn't until she had started making dinner that she realized she'd not even asked Lars what could have been the most important question of the case; Who was responsible for his death if it wasn't an accident?
She wanted to kick herself for having not asked that or alluding to it at least. If anyone could know who the murderer was, it would be their victims, right? Or maybe she should have expected him to come forward with a killer, and tell her himself? Or maybe he didn't know, and was an innocent bystander to a crime?
Sadie got up at 4 am to look at everything Lars had given her, trying to make sense of it all. She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she began to list out possible theories of this case:
She'd looked up Lars' mother and found that before her son's birth, she had divorced and was living in an all white neighborhood as a Chinese immigrant. That was sure to catch attention. Maybe Lars was caught as an innocent victim in a hate crime? But then again, Beach City never those sorts of crimes, even in homogeneous neighborhoods. And Sadie was pretty sure Lars would have told her if that had been the case.
She then found that Lars' bicycle which was found with his corpse had been the same model of a bike that had been stolen from Beach City Bikeland hours before Lars had disappeared. Maybe the bike shop owner had chased Lars and smashed the bridge to get him off the bike? After more reading, Sadie nixed that theory too, finding that the stolen bike was recovered elsewhere, and that the owner hadn't chased after the thief. Besides, how could a bike owner smash a bridge badly enough to leave the damage found?
Maybe there was an undercover gang plot to destroy the bridge for insurance, and Lars was the unfortunate person who was caught in the crosshairs?
After coming up with about 50 more theories, some stranger than others, Sadie realized she sounded more like the weird guy Ronaldo in Forensics than an actual detective, and settled that she'd just have to ask Lars about it when they met again.
Around eight, Sadie answered the door, smiling as she was met with the bubbly grin she'd grown so fond of.
"Hi Sadie!", the chubby and cheerful boy sang happily, jumping for a hug, which she gifted immediately.
"Hi there, Steven," she greeted warmly, petting his soft black curls, "How're you?"
"Great!", he grinned, then scurrying inside to her comfy sofa to watch his evening cartoons on the tiny tv, while Sadie looked to his aunt, Pearl, a tall slender woman with brushed back ginger hair and wearing her dance clothes under her coat.
"Thanks again for this, Sadie," Pearl smiled, "Either Garnett or Amethyste will be by to pick him up in a couple of hours."
"Sure thing," she smiled, waving as the dancer left. For the last three years, she'd been Steven's babysitter for his three aunts when they were tied up with their respective jobs, and they didn't feel like leaving the boy at the car wash with his father.
Once Pearl had left to her dance rehearsal, Sadie went over to Steven, "Have you had any dinner yet?"
"Pearl made me dinner before we left, but no dessert!", the boy whined, flopping dramatically on the sofa, which made the officer giggle.
"And what makes you think I have dessert?", she teased him lightly, going into her kitchen, only for Steven to follow almost underfoot.
"You're a cop! And cops get doughnuts, right?", the boy looked up hopefully.
"Not unless we defeat a big bad guy, and that doesn't happen much in this city," Sadie sighed, "But I do have ice cream I think."
The jubilant cheer Steven gave made her giggle, and she dished him out a small dish of butter pecan ice cream, "Don't spill any on my couch, ok?", she smiled as she got to cleaning the dishes she had stacked in her sink.
"Ok!", he called back, already on the couch, enjoying his cartoons and ice cream, a match made in kiddie heaven. Sadie smiled as she continued to work, not afraid to admit that even if she really wasn't the most skilled with kids, Steven was definitely an exception. When she was drying a dish she'd just rinsed, she grew suddenly alert as she heard a 'clinking' noise right behind her.
Thinking for a second it was Steven, she thought nothing of it, only that she heard it again, and glanced behind herself, only to give a stifled yelp as she saw her newest client sitting in one of her dining table chairs, eating what looked like a bowl of macaroni and cheese.
"Lars?", she whispered harshly, "What in the world are you doing here?"
The scruffy individual made no direct response, mouth full. When it seemed he would answer, he took another bite, then spoke, mouth full, "Eating mac' n cheese."
"But why?", she asked, voice still a hushed tone, and noticed the brimming bowl of steaming hot pasta, "And where did you get that?"
"Made it," he spoke with a sense of cockiness, taking another big bite. It was then that Sadie noticed it was in a ceramic blue and white bowl, dishware that she didn't even own. Did Lars just make that out of thin air? Was it even real? It certainly smelled real, but it could be like one of those dream dishes she occasionally had, where in her sleep, she'd imagine smelling food, seeing it, and eating it, but no taste to it, as it just became air.
"...Ok, never mind the mac and cheese, but what are you doing in my house? Why?", she hissed again, arms crossed, trying not to look too freaked out.
"I jus' wanted to see what you do when you're not a cop," he shrugged, still eating, the bowl never having gotten emptier it seemed.
"Well I'd rather not have ghosts in my house while-"
Her tirade was cut off by Steven walking in, and she turned to face him, slightly startled, "Ste-! Steven!"
"Who are you talking to?", he asked, having heard her whispering in the kitchen.
"Well I-...", she began, and realized it would be no use to explain, "My imaginary friend."
"You have an imaginary friend?", he grinned, "What's their name?"
"...Lars," she sighed.
"Woah, cool!", Steven giggled, running near her, waving at thin air, "Hi Laaaaars!"
"He's sitting in the kitchen chair," she laughed, seeing Steven waving at the fridge, much to her amusement, and Lars' annoyance.
"Oh! Hi Laaaars!", he repeated, waving at the chair. Knowing he wouldn't be seen by the boy, Lars made an obscene gesture to him, appalling Sadie, who scolded him, much to her babysitting charge's confusion.
"What is he? A person, animal,...or mineral?", Steven asked curiously, eyebrow raised.
Sadie was going to answer, but wanting to get that smug look off Lars' face, she grinned, "He's a big pink butterfly with heart shaped sunglasses."
"That's amazing!", Steven cheered in awe, contrasting the scowl Lars had.
"Hey, kiddo, why don't you watch TV a little more. I gotta talk to Lars more OK? Gotta discuss butterfly things," she smiled knowingly to Lars, who made an unkind face to Steven in return. The boy obviously didn't notice it, and went back to the living room to watch Crying Dinner Friends (The sequel to the Breakfast series.) As soon as he was out of the room, Sadie looked at Lars, who was still chewing away at his bottomless little pasta bowl, "OK. I guess I can use this time to ask you questions, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so," he mumbled, wiping cheese off his face.
"OK," she nodded, and closed the kitchen door, telling Steven to stay in her living room. Seeing hevwas preoccupied with ice cream, TV, and Melvin purring on his lap, she went back to Lars, and pulled out her notepad and pen. "I don't think a tape recorder is going to work in this situation. And your claims are going to need material evidence and witness stories that match."
"There were no witnesses. Everyone involved is guilty," he mumbled.
"There's more than one killer?", Sadie asked, "How many?"
"...three," he mumbled, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Names?", she pressed, still writing.
"...can we talk about this later?", he asked nervously, "Tomorrow?"
Sadie frowned, but gave a sigh, "Yeah. Sure. Just don't be lying about anything, got it?"
"What do you take me for, anyway?", he snorted, "Relax short stuff, I ain't jerkin' your chain."
"Don't call me that!", she huffed, face red.
Looking a greater amount more relaxed, he continued to eat his endless meal as if he hadn't eaten in forever. Sadie was left to watch him sit in her kitchen, hoping she was actually solving a ghost's death, and not completely losing her mind.
Sadie had no idea if Lars had left her house during the night, but she did notice very quickly that the punk was laying on her couch, shoes still on, a mess around him. She had gone to bed about an hour after Steven's aunt Amethyste, a spitfire gym manager with wild bleached hair, came by to pick the boy up, literally, as he was passed out on Sadie's sofa, worn out from his day's adventures. The officer had told Lars she would help him in the morning, and had retired to her room with Melvin.
Lars didn't seem to notice or at least, not care when Sadie walked in and put her hands on her hips, looking quite displeased at the mess.
"You better be planning to pick this up," she spoke sternly to the ghost, giving an annoyed snort when his only response was an eyeroll and no action implying he would do as she said.
"Make me," he smiled smugly, expecting her to get huffy. What he didn't expect was her to grab him by the ear, surprising both him and her for being able to touch him, and she dragged him onto the floor, holding him by a stretched lobe. "Clean it. Now."
Scowling, he began to do so, grumbling all the while. As he did that, Sadie allowed herself to enjoy her morning coffee, and paper. Once she was dressed in uniform, she spoke from the hallway, "Ready to go?"
"Yeah. See you there," he spoke blankly. Before the officer could answer, or enter the room, he had disappeared. And Sadie figured from then on not to offer him rides since he didn't need them.
Reaching Dead Man's Mouth, she looked around to see if Lars was there. Seeing no sign of the ghost, she began to observe the area, noting the water was stewed with thick slimy weeds and moss. What an unfortunate end for someone so young.
Before she could step near the water, a voice startled her, "Don't you fall in."
Whirling around, hand on her gun, she went into a defensive stance, only to relax when she saw Lars, "Oh gosh, don't scare me like that."
"I'm a ghost, I'm supposed to be scary," he announced with teenage snark.
She snorted, and looked around, "This place has always been shifty."
"Yeah, no kidding. Come on, I'll show you where to look," he spoke, gesturing her to follow. He nimbly lumbered up a steep embankment without trouble. Sadie struggled to climb up, but finally managed, looking at Lars with slight curiosity, "If you're a ghost, can you float?"
"Why all the questions?", he snickered.
"1. I'm an officer, I have to ask questions. 2. You're the first ghost I've ever met," she shrugged with a welcoming smile.
Lars rolled his eyes, sighing, "So, yeah, up here's everything that happened," he began, walking over to the old bridge which had since grown old, moss eaten, and decrepit. In the middle was the split in which the structure collapsed, sending Larson Chang plummeting to his watery grave. Sadie began to examine the splits and fractures in the splintered old beams, taking their age into account. Upon closer inspection, Sadie found cuts in the wood that matched those an axe might make if it missed its mark. She looked to Lars, "...I want you to tell me what happened right before you fell."
The ghost, staring at the water below the bridge gave a small gulp, and licked his sore looking lips before talking, "...so...it was after school, and I was taking my new bike for a ride. I was taking a shortcut home around here when...they came over to me, and asked if I wanted to hang with them...I thought they were cool," he snorted, sounding a little worn, "I was showing off my bike and they told me to ride it on the bridge, and see me pop a wheelie. I didn't even know what that was," he mumbled with a mirthless chuckle, "I said no, but then they threatened to tie me up to a rock," he snarled, then went quiet, "As soon as I got halfway across the bridge, well...that's when it broke, and I fell. I never learned how to swim, and I was trying to get them to help me, but they just laughed at me!", he spoke with slight hysteria, then took a deep breath, "Then...that was it. I woke up and when I realized what had happened, I kind of just watched...well...myself...float under there, and waited for someone to come. Nobody came for a whole week," he spoke, voice strained, "I was waiting that whole time. And when the police finally came around, they didn't even look around the bridge. They didn't even wonder how the bridge broke, they just said it was an accident," he mumbled, "...the...the people who did it, they never even got punished."
Sadie stared at Lars with a face of both shock, sadness, and sympathy. "You poor thing," she mumbled, seeing the pain and grief in his face as he spoke. She'd written everything down, finding it even sadder to read.
Lars suddenly gave an annoyed look, "Don't call me that, I ain't pathetic, ok?", and glared at her, only to take a deep breath, sighing, "I-I...I'm sorry," he spoke softly, rubbing furiously at his eyes, "I've just been waiting out here for so long for someone to finally listen to me. Nobody's remembered me since I drowned. It's like I never existed to begin with. I didn't even get so see my mom," he admitted forlornly, "I...really miss her," he then confessed too quietly for Sadie to hear clearly.
Giving a soft sigh, she nodded, and without thinking, gave him a hug for comfort, which he immediately stiffened at, wanting to back away from her. She quickly pulled back, shocked at her actions, "S-sorry!", she yelped, "I'm just used to hugging people..."
He didn't give a response, just rubbing his shoulder awkwardly, and walked over to overgrown bushes on the steep slopes, "They chopped the sides of the bridge before I came around here," he growled, "They knew the bridge would break when I rode over it. I bet they chucked the thing they chopped it with in the bushes."
"Why would they do this?", she asked as she carefully climbed the steep slope, beginning to look in the tangled ivy and wild foliage that grew under the bridge halves.
"They knew I was a little kid, easy target for their ideas of fun," he mumbled, "They're the kind of people who would flush goldfish."
Sadie sighed, "Sadists, huh?", and after about a half hour of searching, saw something gleam in the tangled plants, and with rubber gloves, picked up an axe, putting it in a plastic bag for the forensics lab to look at. She'd have to listen to Ronaldo's endless list of theories as he worked, but it would at least confirm the truths Lars gave her. She looked at the axe, seeing it was old and weathered, moss having grown on the wooden handle, and the blade having rusted.
She stared at the weapon for another minute, then looked right at Lars, "I need you to tell me the names of your killers."
The sullen looking ghost hesitated before he finally answered.
Rapping her knuckles on the large door, the blonde waited in front of the affluent looking beach house, ready to confront one of the three killers. The owner finally answered with a raised brow, looking both confused and annoyed "Is there a problem, officer?"
Sadie sighed, "Hello, Mayor Dewey. I need to speak to your son."