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very well. Clinging to his arm, but still a few steps behind was a redheaded woman in a yellow and white dress.
    “You must be Mr. Truex.” He said in a thick British accent, as he extended his hand.
    “I can tell you are not from around here.” Rod said and immediately realized how rural and uncivilized this man must think he sounds.
    “Why yes, I must apologize my parents were from Great Britain. I, on the other hand, was raised in upstate New York.”
    “Well that certainly is no New York accent, it is Brit through and through. By the way, what did you say your name was?” Rod continued.
    “I didn’t. My name is Bartholomew Wadd.”
    Rod couldn’t help but notice how eccentric and dapper Mr. Wadd seemed to be.
    “I am an author, and I’m currently working on my fifth murder mystery.”
    “I see.” Rod said assuming he knew where the rest of the conversation was going.
    “Please, judging by your tone I assume that you think that I am only here because of the recent and unfortunate event that occurred in your fine town. But, that could not be further from the truth. I purchased a cabin on the east end of town four months ago. I have been living here for two weeks already. I have no interest in your current events.”
    “I understand.” Rod replied.
    “I only plan on making an appearance in your town once or twice a week. I like my privacy while I write, which is why I bought my cabin. This area, your fine town included, is quite peaceful. I hope to accomplish a great deal, I only want to introduce myself to you, simply to let you be aware of my presence.”
    Rod was astonished by how forward and upfront Mr. Wadd was. Never in his life had someone spoken to him so sternly, yet so eloquently at the same time.
    “That sounds perfectly fine. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
    “Good day.” Mr. Wadd said and he continued on down the side walk.
    Rod turned around to see Mr. Wadd and his lady friend, (whom he did not introduce) walking away. It was then that Rod noticed Wadd’s female companion’s shapely, well rounded bottom. A thousand thoughts ran through Rod’s mind in a second. He thought of Marcy and a feeling of guilt emerged from the pit of his stomach. This feeling coursed up and over his entire body. He felt worthless. He no longer felt very hungry and definitely did not want anything from The Main Street Café.
    Besides he had work to do. He would eat later.
     
    -
     
    Later that afternoon, Rod sat down with Ricky and Evelyn Parker to discuss their daughter, and the events that preceded her death. It was obvious that they loved their daughter very much. Both of them took a great deal of interest in her activities. She received good grades and was an outstanding track athlete. The only unpleasant thing that they had to say was related to her relationship with Owen Kelly. Neither parent cared for him, and hoped that she would have found someone else. Ricky did not come out and say it, but it was kind of clear that he was already holding Kelly responsible. The scowl that came over Ricky’s face when the name was mentioned made this more than obvious.
    It was starting to seriously look like Rod was going to have to bring Owen in for questioning. Rod understood this, but didn’t like the idea especially since he himself didn’t feel that Owen was guilty. After the interview Rod asked for Ricky and Evelyn’s permission to take a look at Gabrielle’s room. Despite being a little hesitant, they both agreed to let him. They of course followed close behind.
    Gabrielle’s bedroom was exactly what Rod had expected a typical teenage girl’s bedroom to look like. It was brightly lit and covered with posters.
    “I come in here every day.” Evelyn said despondently. “It is almost as if I think she is just going to come home and head straight for her bedroom.”
    Evelyn’s words were terrible and gave Rod unexpected emotions he hadn’t ever felt before. Rod was already deeply involved with this case, but