I approached the door cautiously. I never really had company- now that I think about it. The only friends I really have are hunters and they aren't much of the visiting, tea-party type. I didn't really have friends...A little depressing, don't you think? I guess I thought so too, back then.
I opened the door warily. The first thing I saw was a pair of bright green eyes, filled with wonder, that stood out against fair skin. "Cory, hey," I said, a little confused.
"Hello," he said with a sweet smile, "may I come in?" I have to admit, although he was a little (completely) strange, he is quite the gentlemen.
"Um, sure?" I responded, opening the door wider.
"I just checked in down the hall," he smiled, eyes full of wonder, "I- I saw you earlier with a stack of… newspapers?"
"Oh, yea, that," great response, Carson, way to go, "I'm a…um," Excuse, excuse, excuse, I thought to myself.
"I'm a detective for the F.B.I.," I said, "I like to look into odd occurrences; murders, anything along those lines."
Yea, because federal detectives aren't assigned cases, they look for them in the newspaper… and they most certainly proclaim their relation to the F.B.I. to complete strangers. Again- way to go, Carson.
Cory looked at me skeptically as if he knew I was lying .
"Oh," he said, widening his eyes, "Well may I help?"
"Sure, I guess," I answered, and sat back down in the partially-wrecked wooden chair. He leaned over my shoulder and examined the papers.
He leaned over to grab one of the papers and stopped mid-way. "May I?" He asked politely.
"Oh, go right ahead," I said, a bit surprised at his manners.
He scooped up the article. "Here," he said, furrowing his eyebrows, "it seems like exactly what you're looking for."
"Really," I asked curiously, "where?"
"Um, h-here," he said, tilting the page so that I could see the date. Two weeks ago.
He began pacing around the room. "It says here that there is a string of murders, four people so far," he stopped pacing for a moment, I assume that he was gathering his thoughts. His voice wavered a bit when reading the words 'four people', "each victim has a different letter carved into their doors, and each were killed in their own homes. The police are calling it the 'alphabet killer' because he seems to be going in alphabetical order, from 'A' to 'B' and so on. They believe that he will proceed with 26 kills for all 26 letters," the looked at the page with a bit of disgust.
"Alright, sounds like a case," I responded with pleasure," I'll get right on that this afternoon."
Before I got a chance to respond, Cory's eyes widened and put on a big smile, "I'll grab my coat," and with that, he was gone.
I didn't know that then, but I had just obtained a new partner, and this case was just the beginning.
I guess I do have a friend, I thought to myself as I saw him come in with a big grin on his face.