I spent the rest of my day researching the FBI agents. That's when I came across a criminal database. It couldn't hurt to scroll though even though that's not what I was looking for. As I was scrolling, I saw two familiar faces. The FBI agents, Wesson and Smith. Although, their names on here were Sam and Dean Winchester.

When my phone rang, I nearly hit the ceiling. Once I found my phone, I checked my caller ID. It was just my friend, Alison. I considered hitting ignore, but she'd only show up at my door. I hit answer.

"Hey. What's up?" I said.

"You sound like sh… crap." Her dad must've been sitting next to her.

"Gee, thanks, Ali."

"Anytime. So, I have some… terrible news."

"And what would that be?"

"My stepmom committed suicide early this morning."

"Really? Why? I thought she was happy."

"She must've been acting. Anyway, we're really broken up about it." I rolled my eyes. Ali hated her stepmom with a passion. It wasn't one sided, either.

"Your dad must be so upset."

"Yeah. I had to force feed him baby food for breakfast and lunch. If he doesn't feed himself for dinner, I'm dropping him off at your house."

"No thanks. I actually got a visit from FBI agents today."

"Really? Did you do something illegal?" She sounded so excited.

"Of course not. They were asking about my mom."

"Oh. Wait. Why is the FBI interested in a suicide?"

"No idea. Um, I do need to talk to you, though. Can I come over?"

"Please. Maybe my dad will perk up with some company."

"Okay. I'll be over in, like, fifteen minutes."

"Hey. Bring a lot of good food."

"Okey dokey."

"Nobody says that anymore."

"I do."

"You're so weird."

"Thank you. See you in a bit."

"See ya." I hung up, and slid my phone into my back pocket.

I packed up my laptop, my sketchbook, and half of the desserts I had hidden in my kitchen, and stepped outside. It had been sunny earlier, but it now looked like it was about to rain. I unlocked my bike anyway, and headed down the street.

Alison lived five blocks from me, and it started raining before I got there. That was my luck for you. At least my sketchbook and laptop wouldn't get wet before I got there. My priorities were in the right spot.

"You know, you really need a car," Jackie called from the porch. I hopped off my bike, and walked it up to the porch.

"I am not paying for gas when I have a perfectly good bicycle."

"You're soaked. Let's go get you dried up." She smiled, and led the way inside.