Fenton and Frank Hardy walked up the weed covered path in front of Vance Morris's house. A dilapidated house it was, with grimy windows and very unpleasant aroma about it. According to county records, the license plate 2B78-90 belonged to Mr. Morris.
Fenton knocked once, and then twice after a moment. The door opened a small amount, revealing a thin, wizened old man who wore a filthy bathrobe and reeked of tobacco and liquor.
"What do you want?" he growled unpleasantly.
Fenton smiled kindly. "Mr. Morris, we're here to ask about your car, we think it may have been involved in a shooting."
Mr. Morris looked at Fenton and Frank. "You cops?" He sniffed.
"No sir, we're detectives."
The man only grunted.
Mr. Hardy continued, "May we come in?"
The man shook his head, frowning deeply.
Mr. Hardy ignored the man's rudeness and continued his smile. "Do you own a green pick-up truck with the plate number: 2B78-90?"
Mr. Morris rubbed his nose and said, "Well, I did. A fellow bought it about a week ago. Walked right up to the door and offered 500 bucks for the thing. That's more than it's worth, and I took the offer. All the cash was there, so I gave him the keys, and that was that."
Frank piped up, "What did the man look like?"
Mr. Morris glowered at Frank. "Shouldn't you be in school, boy?"
Frank stood up a little straighter. "School's out for the day."
"Hmm." Mr. Morris turned to Mr. Hardy and directed his response at him. "He was an older feller. Bald with glasses. Seemed nice. He took the keys and drove off."
"Which way did he go? Did you see?" Fenton asked.
Mr. Morris. "No. We're done here."
Mr. Morris closed the door abruptly. Frank was taken aback. "What a pleasant fellow." He commented to his father, who grinned.
They walked back to Fenton's car and he said, "Well, the police will keep an eye out for the car, but it may be a dead end. The gun he used was a dime a dozen-"
"How do you know?" Frank interrupted.
"The slugs we pulled from the shop wall were pretty tell-tale. It's a common gun, anyone could own it." They got into the car and pulled on their seatbelts. "We'll tell Joe what the buyer of the car looked like, and he can ask Paul if that could be anyone he knows, but other than that, we have very little to go off of."
Frank added dramatically, "Until he strikes again."
"Well, hopefully we'll figure it out before then."
Author's note: Is this story making sense? Are there things that are blatantly stupid that I'm missing? I'm a novice, so I could use all the feedback you have. Don't hold back, let me know how I can improve this story. Thanks readers! *Insert a heart here*