A/N: Sorry for the obscenely long wait, everyone. I got distracted, and then I got busy... but I finally have this one up. It's a little longer than my other chapters, but I suppose that makes up for me not updating for a while. This part was a real pain to write...

As always, I want to thank all of you for your patience and for your continuing interest in this story. Now, on with the chapter.

Chapter 13: Start

"Hm? Yeah, everyone down there knows everyone…why do you ask?"

Laurent shrugged, "I was just curious."

It had been a couple days and Laurent couldn't let go of his thoughts about the robber, not that he really tried. It was interesting to him, and therefore it was something to look into. However, it was becoming apparent that no one else was very interested. They figured it really wasn't their job to go looking around in such areas, that the professionals would end up sorting it out. After all, they weren't the ones who were getting attacked. It was best just to let it blow over… do what any normal person would.

It was starting to become glaringly obvious to Laurent that he wasn't exactly a normal person.

…which is why he was in one of the common rooms then, talking to an upperclassman named Timothy Jameson. Timothy was one of those rare people whose parents actually lived in town. If anyone would know anything about the little village, it would be him. Unfortunately, he really wasn't that interested in talking about it.

Timothy sat in one of the room's old armchairs, holding in his hands a book on botany. He had just settled in to read when Laurent had abruptly approached him. Understandably, he felt a little irked that some lowerclassman had decided to talk to him at that precisely that moment.

Timothy's eyes drifted back to the book and he muttered, "There isn't much to be curious about. I've lived there my whole life. It's a very nice place, but it isn't very exciting."

That was enough to get Laurent talking again, "Did you hear about the robber, though?" Laurent asked, "That's pretty exciting, right?"

Timothy shrugged, grudgingly looking back up from his book, "Crime happens everywhere. It's not exciting, it's just sad."

…so he was another one of those people.

Before Timothy's eyes could drift back down, Laurent continued, "…but aren't you a little curious as to who it might be? I mean… if everyone knows each other, then obviously the robber is someone new. If it's someone new then…"

"You're getting ahead of yourself," Timothy said, shaking his head, "There are a lot of odd people in the neighborhood. Perhaps people don't want to admit who it is because it would just stir up trouble."

"Why would someone just let someone else do that sort of thing?" Laurent asked incredulously.

"I don't know… politics?"

"Politics?" Laurent repeated.

Timothy shrugged, "Whatever it is, you don't have to worry about it. The police will get this whole mess sorted out, you'll see."

"…but there were five attacks in the last week, shouldn't the police have caught him by now?"

"Don't rush them. They'll find him eventually."

"What if…"

"Please, just stop with all of these questions, you're giving me a headache," Timothy groaned, "Can't you just let me read?"

Laurent's face fell slightly, "You don't find this interesting at all?"

"I like plants, not people," Timothy said with a smile, gesturing to the book he was holding.

Laurent was silent for a few moments, and Timothy thought he was done talking. He smiled slightly and began to read again, only to be interrupted by the boy once more, "…do people come to this town a lot?"

"Come on," Timothy groaned.

"I'm just asking," Laurent said.

Timothy shook his head again, "Well, sometimes. It's seasonal. Now we're getting more tourists because winter is approaching. People like coming here in the winter for some odd reason. Maybe it's because of all of the snow…"

Laurent cupped his head in his hand, "I see…"

"You're looking far too into this," Timothy sighed, "You're a little kid. You shouldn't be thinking about these sorts of things."

"Well, what should I be thinking about, then?" Laurent asked.

"I don't know… sports, jokes, homework, friends…" Timothy said, trying to get back into his book, "…normal things like that."

"What about plants?"

Timothy blinked, "What?" he asked, looking up from the pages.

"Are plants a normal thing for people to think about…?" Laurent asked innocently.

Timothy frowned, "Well, it's uncommon…"

"It doesn't stop you from thinking about them, though," Laurent continued, motioning at the book.

Timothy frowned, "But…"

"I find this to be interesting like you find plants to be interesting," Laurent said, "Just because not very many people are interested in it, it doesn't mean someone can't be… right?"

Timothy sighed, "I suppose…" Laurent smiled, but Timothy made a face, "It doesn't mean I'm interested in it, though. Just as you aren't interested in plants, I'm not interested in crime," he snapped.

"I'm only going to ask you a couple more questions," Laurent said, "I know I'm bothering you, but you're one of the only people I can actually talk to."

"Oh, alright…" Timothy sighed.

"Okay… are there any hotels or motels in town?"

"What?"

"Well, if he's someone new, then he probably stayed… or is staying… in one of them…"

"You don't-"

"I know that I don't know whether or not he really is someone new…" Laurent agreed, "That doesn't mean I'm not going to look."

Timothy sighed and rubbed his forehead, "There's really only one," he said, "A hotel. My uncle actually runs it."

"Really? Do you think I could get a list of…"

Timothy sighed and gave him a look, somehow stopping Laurent from continuing, "Do you think that you can honestly go to my uncle and ask him to give you anything? You're what…eight years old?"

"Nine," Laurent corrected, "It was my birthday a few days ago…"

"That's still too young to be taken seriously," Timothy said.

Laurent blinked, as though the thought had never occurred to him. He looked down as he thought. Yes, it was true… he was rather young to be doing such things. Why would anyone humor a little kid like him? It really didn't make much sense… life wasn't a mystery novel, after all. "I understand," He sighed.

Timothy shrugged, "Sorry."

Laurent frowned, but nodded, "Well, thank you, I guess," he said, and then walked away.

Timothy looked down at his book but didn't see the page. He was quiet for a few moments as his thoughts drifted. The boy looked a little too disappointed for his liking. Placing a knuckle to his lip, he muttered softly to himself, "Hmm… I guess it wouldn't hurt…"

A few days later, Laurent was sitting in the library, staring at the book spread out on the table before him. However, he wasn't reading it. His mind was elsewhere… mostly about that robber that still hadn't been caught. Though he wasn't giving up on this new interest of his, other people certainly tried to discourage him…many people who would at least humor him began paying him less and less attention the more he talked about the crimes. Like every other human being, Laurent didn't take well to being ignored, so he began to be a little less vocal about his current fascination. It certainly didn't help him get over it, though.

I wish I could have gotten more information from Timothy… Laurent thought. It certainly didn't help matters that the robber had struck again the day before. He was just toying with them now.

He sighed and turned the page in his book, mostly just to get a new sight in front of him. Other people got to peruse their own interests… why didn't he get that opportunity?

Suddenly, a big stack of papers landed with a thud on the open book, scaring Laurent into the real world. He looked up, confused and saw Timothy Jameson standing before him. He then looked down at the rather hefty pile of papers on the book.

"Wha…?" he asked.

Timothy smiled, "I guessed I could help somewhat… I went to my uncle and asked for copies of the hotel guest list," He tapped the pile of papers with his forefinger, "You're welcome."

Laurent blinked and began looking at the papers eagerly, "Why…?" he asked.

Timothy shrugged, "If this interests you as much as plants interest me, I guessed it wouldn't hurt to help you out... especially since I'm probably the best person for the job…"

"How…? Did you just…?" Laurent asked, fingers flipping through the pages.

"Oh, I just told him it was something for school. He didn't question it…" Timothy said with a smirk.

Laurent looked up at him, "You really didn't have to do this…"

Timothy shrugged.

"Thank you, though," Laurent continued.

"Don't mention it," Timothy smiled.

Laurent stared at the papers spread out on his desk. He hadn't had a chance to get a good look at them before, he had classes to attend. He picked up one and random and examined it, his eyes scanning the names and dates. From what he gathered from the papers, the people who stayed in the hotel stayed roughly a time of one to three days before checking out. There were only a handful of people that stayed longer than four days, and only one person who had ever stayed over a week.

…that person was still staying.

"So… Benjamin Green, huh?" Laurent said, picking up the latest paper. This man had checked into the hotel a day before the attacks started happening… Laurent sighed, "This is too easy… the police would have found this out immediately, wouldn't they?" he asked himself.

"Found out what?" a voice asked. Laurent whipped around to see Matthew in the doorway, grinning at him. Matthew took a few steps into the room, his smile persisting, "What do you have there?"

"This is the list of people who stayed in the local hotel…" Laurent replied, "…and… wouldn't the police have already looked into this?"

"Into what?"

"The people staying in the hotel," Laurent said, "Wouldn't that be the first place to look?"

Matthew shrugged, "I don't know…"

Laurent sighed.

"Why don't you ask them?"

Laurent blinked and looked questioningly at his roommate, "Huh?"

"I said, why don't you ask them?" Matthew repeated, "Maybe they haven't looked into it yet. Maybe you're giving them too much credit."

"I can't just ask them…!"

"Why not?"

Timothy Jameson's words echoed in Laurent's head, he sighed, "I'm only nine years old. Who will ever listen to me? What if it were something they hadn't come up with already? They might take it seriously because a little kid suggested it…"

"You said that they probably already did do it," responded Matthew, "So, no harm done, right?"

"Yes, but then it would be like I was insulting them for thinking that they couldn't come up with it on their own," Laurent responded.

"Since when do you care about insulting people?"

"I try not to."

"You aren't very good at it."

Laurent sighed.

"Come on, you've come up with something… maybe they'd want to know," Matthew said, "There is a chance that they haven't seen it yet."

Laurent looked doubtful.

"You won't stop talking about it, but as soon as you find out something you don't want to report it?" Matthew asked, cocking his head, "You're strange."

"I know," Laurent responded.

Matthew laughed, "Follow me, you're going to report it," and with that, he crossed the room, grabbed Laurent's wrist, and pulled him out into the hallway.

Students weren't allowed to use the school's telephones unless it was an absolute emergency. That was because years ago, people had abused the privilege by crank calling anyone everywhere. The monstrous phone bills they had to pay every month were terrible, and complaints from unamused targets were even worse.

"So, how are we going to report it?" asked Laurent as Matthew led him down the hall.

"Well, do you remember that upperclassman with the cellular phone?" Matthew asked.

"We're just going to walk up to him and ask if we can use it?" Laurent asked disbelievingly.

"We don't even have to ask! He lets everyone use it," Matthew responded. He then grinned, "He's into technology, too… so he messed around with it a little bit. Now, your voice sounds completely different when you talk through it…"

"He broke it?"

"No, he can switch it back when he wants… but people have been using the voice-changer to crank call people again…"

"…I bet his parents aren't very happy about that…"

"He's very strict about it," Matthew said, "Oh, here's the room!"

Matthew walked in, followed closely by Laurent. The upperclassman, who was reading at his desk, looked up. "Hello," he said.

"Hello… er… my friend was wondering if he could use your phone," Matthew said, motioning to Laurent.

The upperclassman shrugged and pointed to the brick-like contraption on his desk, "No long-distance calls."

Matthew smiled, "You don't have to worry about that," he said. He then went over and retrieved the telephone and handed it to Laurent with a smile.

"Is the voice-changing on…?" Laurent asked.

"It's never off," was the response, "Why? What are you planning on doing?"

"Nothing…" he said, rolling the phone in his hands, "Do you have a phone book…?"

The upperclassman sighed and pointed again to his desk. Matthew immediately went and got it, "I'll look it up. The local police department, right?"

"You're calling the police?" the upperclassman asked, alarmed.

"It's a tip about that robber," Matthew responded before Laurent could explain, "Here, here, I found it," Matthew pointed to the number in the book and grinned again.

"Do I really want to…"

"Yes, yes you do," Matthew urged.

Laurent sighed and punched in the number on the telephone, then held it up to his ear.

"Hello? Police department," the voice said on the other end.

"Uh… yes… I'm calling to give some information that might be useful about that robber case…?" Laurent responded.

"You've got an odd voice," was the response.

"Sorry," Laurent said.

There was silence on the other end, then a sigh, "Well… say your piece. We have no leads right now, so this can only help."

Laurent looked at Matthew questioningly, but Matthew nodded for him to continue. Sighing, Laurent continued, "Well… I was looking at the list of people that stayed in the local hotel and…"

As Laurent continued to speak, he couldn't help but notice how quiet the room was. He heard the faint peal of an unseen grandfather clock announcing the hour… why was it so still?