"Hello, this is the FBI."

"Yes, this is anonymous. If you wish to track down the real suspect, then scan the inside of the glove for fingerprints. If the suspect has held something, the gloves will have prints on the inside of them."

"Thank you." I hung up with the FBI.

"Now for stage two," Lilly said. Lilly was in on the plan, unlike...

"Stage two." Stage two was getting Kunkel's fingerprints.

We took off in Lilly's brand new Silver Bug. Feeling the wind against my face was perfect. It swiped away all the stress from my mind. For once, I could breathe.

"Where's the Haunted House?" Lilly asked. We used code names and Kunkel's home was the Haunted House.

"Here's the address, Lollipop." I handed her a piece of paper with the address to the Haunted House. Her code name was Lollipop, and mine was Rusty. I had a rusted heart so I must be rusty.

"You know, why didn't you pick, like, coyote or eagle? To show your boldness. You didn't have to pick Rusty, Rusty."

"Do you want me to be Falcon?" I liked Falcon. They had viciously, sharp claws—those could've torn apart my already broken heart. "Remember, we gotta pick up the moldings, Lollipop." I reminded. We were going to get her moldings so that we could permanently keep her fingerprints.

"Right." So we went to the store and get the moldings that we needed. Kunkel would be trapped.

"Here we are, Falcon. The Haunted House," Lilly announced.

"Heading into the very core of this situation."

"Possibly, never coming out."

"Ready?"

"Ready." I gulped.

"Here we go." I stepped out of the Bug and slammed the passenger's car door. I walked slowly, but breathed heavily. This was not going to be easy. This was the hardest stage that Lilly and I would accomplish in this mission. I suddenly felt like I was on Zombie High, charging into the Zombie's Main Castle, where the leader of all the Zombies—I guess you could say the Zombie Principal—rested. No Zombie ever came out of this corrodor. I wasn't sure if I was going to come out alive either. I didn't know what was worse, a Zombie Principal or my History teacher. It was a tie.

I rang the doorbell, scared that my arm would be torn off. "She's not here, let's go," Lilly rushed. Then Kunkel opened the door.

"Stewart. Truscott. What are you two doing here?"

"We have a project for Girl Scouts where we have to handprint the most inspiring person we've ever met, and we chose you," I lied.

"You're inspired by me? I guess my lessons and discipline have paid off in school but why aren't you two wearing uniforms?" Girl Scouts wore uniforms?

"We lost them in a puddle. Totally unpresentable," Lilly said. Thank you, Lilly! "Also, there's a raffling of these handprints and if you get picked you win a thousand dollars."

"I don't have to pay or anything?"

"Nope. Handprints are free," I said. I felt stupid.

"Well, who doesn't love a thousand dollars? Come on in." We entered the Devil's lair. Kunkel's code name was Devil. It fit her well.

We got the moldings all set up when someone rang the doorbell. "Lillian, be a dear and get the door." Lilly did so. But who was at the door, I didn't expect.

"Ms. Kunkel, is it alright if I step in?"

"Yes, of course, Nick."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realze you had company. Would later be a better time?" Always polite. I was going to be sick. Where were all the rebbles?

"No, now's fine. What is it?"

"I have an English assignment—a personal one—where I'm supposed to interview one of the most interesting teachers that I met this year at school. I find your strictness and discipline only a mask and was wondering how you acted outside of the education."

"Very well."

"Now, I'm told to be specific about dates and every detail so how about we start from the night I was shot, seeing as I wasn't at school for four months."

"Okay...let's see. What did I do that night?" she pondered over her events. I eyed Nick as he pulled out a notepad. He refused to look at me. He knew what I was doing, but I didn't know what he was doing.

"I was out at the Diner with four of my single friends, Macey, Ja—."

"I need last names, too, Ms. Kunkel," he interrupted.

"Macey Michaelson, Janice Evans, Kathy Bartha, and Johnathan Hewitt. We were having a few shots at the Diner. I came home and read..." She continued on with her four month-long story while Nick took notes.

After she finished the story, Nick left with his notes. I knew he was up to something because I was in his English class with Mr. Young. I would've known about such an assignment. There was no assignment like that planned for homework. I excused myself and followed him out the door to talk to him, but he was already taking off in his car. He looked straight at me and stopped the car from backing out. He got out of the car and walked towards me. My feet glided towards his body. We were close enough that I cold feel him breathing on me. Then a second later, his hands cupped my face and his lips covered mine.

At the end of one long smooch, he left without any words. I just watched his ostentatious car fade away down the street.

Soon, Lilly came up to me with the molded hands of the Devil. "What'd he say?" she wondered.

"Absolutely nothing."

"What'd you say?"

"Absolutely nothing," I repeated.

"So what happened?"

I was too speechless to answer, still watching the edge of the road where I last saw his car.

Then Lilly and I went straight to the police station. We told them about the phone call to the FBI and that we thought we had matching fingerprints. Apparently there were fingerprints on the inside of the gloves, so we handed them the molding with Kunkel's full name on it. However, they didn't believe us. Just as I'd suspected.

"...but to be sure, we'll call Ms. Kunkel and tell her to come to the crime scene. We'll also call Hannah Montana and compare stories," the police said. I rushed out of there, knowing they'd call me as Hannah.

They had called me and I gladly accepted to go, knowing that Kunkel would be cornered and arrested. I got dressed and quickly met Lola at the crime scene. She was there with Kunkel.

"Hello, what's going on?" I asked.

"Miss Montana, the FBI seem to think that I'm a suspect to the shot of Nick Jonas but I assure you I was no where near this party that very night."

"Ms. Kunkel, right? I know two very wonderful girls named Miley Stewart and Lillian Truscott. Later this afternoon, they were at your house, molding your handprint, am I right?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Miley told me. Anyway, I asked her for the molding to show it to the FBI. Miley also said that you had lost a glove and that she examined your remaining one which seems to look exactly like this one. The one found here at the crime scene. I politely asked the FBI to check the inside of the glove for fingerprints on the inside and fingerprints were found. Now, this molding that you've taken this afternoon, has matching fingerprints."

"But I wasn't even here for this party. I was out with a few of my friends drinking."

"Actually," a dark voice said from behind me, "I called each of your friends and they said that you weren't with them that night, and that they were each in Florida but you didn't want to go."

"Ms. Kunkel..." one of the FBI's people started to say.

"You found out about this party from my phone call with Miley three days before the party and that's when you started planning. You knew I would be at the party so you used the gun and the gloves to sneak into the party and frame me for shooting someone, Ms. Kunkel," I blurted. "You tried to frame me into almost killing this man." I pointed behind me where Nick was standing in the dark.

"You...you set me up!" she screamed at Nick. "And Miley and Lilly! They all knew! But you..." She pointed at me. "You shot him!"

"She had no possession of the pistol and you did, Ms. Kunkel, so she is free of charges," the FBI person said.

"Why would you help her with this little scheme?! She shot you!!" Kunkel yelled at Nick.

"Because I'm madly in love with her. And I forgive her."

"Karen Kunkel, you are under arrest for framing Miss Montana and for holding possession of a pistol illegally." The FBI took her away, and now there we were, the three of us, left at the crime scene of terrible memories.