p style="margin: 20px 0px; font-family:
Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;
text-align: justify;" The small grey car owned by Jareth Spofford pulled up outside of the public library in his town. It was a small building, a quaint little shop that was run by an elderly couple and their two children, who Jareth happened to know were desperate to move out. As they entered the shop, Jareth and Farica could hear someone talking very loudly about how her cousin was murdered and her aunt and uncle hired a detective from England./p
Arial, Helvetica, Trebuchet, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;
text-align: justify;" The small grey car owned by Jareth Spofford pulled up outside of the public library in his town. It was a small building, a quaint little shop that was run by an elderly couple and their two children, who Jareth happened to know were desperate to move out. As they entered the shop, Jareth and Farica could hear someone talking very loudly about how her cousin was murdered and her aunt and uncle hired a detective from England./p