Principal Edgar Jackson was a well-traveled, intelligent man and yet even he was quite surprised with what he found in the front entrance of his school.  It was estimated that it took at least an hour or two of silence and a lot of patience to accomplish the task.  Edgar and Police Chief Rudy Morris decided that the scene should be left in its present place to prevent any disturbing of clues.  The police chief had already called in the FBI and CIA.  After all murder might be common in the big city but in Danford it was a rarity.  Sure they had had their share of urban legends and freakish happenings, but nothing ever like this.  Usually their crimes involved truancy, petty thievery, a very rare vehicular manslaughter case, and some drunken noise violations.
 The school was blocked off and a temporary school was set up in the town hall, which was in fact the old school house before the new one was built.  Since this would only be the displacement of three hundred total students and faculty the town believed that it would not be as great an inconvenience as it might to a larger town.  The town, however, was abuzz with the news of a body found in the local high school.  Luckily for the police it was Principal Jackson who found the body and Principal Jackson knew how to keep his mouth shut.  It had actually been his idea to call the FBI and to leave the body where it was.  Many people believed that he was more than he seemed, after all a big city principal doesn’t just up and leave for northern New England without a reason.
 Yet, Danford didn’t ask any questions about his past, as he was the highly credited for the job, having a Doctorate in Education and History and having devoted his entire life to education.  He had graduated college at the age of eighteen and had gotten both his doctorates at the age of twenty-one.  He had then proceeded directly to the field of education and had become a principal when he was only twenty-five.  He had come to Danford looking for a teaching job, but the town had had enough teachers, they needed a principal.  So they had offered him the job and he had willingly accepted it.  That had only been five years ago.
 Principal Jackson sat in his office staring at the wall.  His office was empty, except a picture of his dead wife, Maria; he kept his personal effects out of his business life.  Even though he had two doctorates he allowed his students to call him Mr. Jackson and the faculty by his first name, Edgar.  He sighed and turned around staring out at the courtyard.  Usually students would be out there with their biology classes studying why the leaves turned color or why animals hibernated in the winter, now it was barren.
 Edgar Jackson liked kids, he believed that in order to bring change to the world one had to idealize the youth of America.  People blamed children for many things, but Jackson blamed their parents and television.  Frequently a child’s problems in school were connected to problems at home, be it abuse, lack of attention, or just a lack of support from parents who were too busy trying to provide the necessary material things for life.  This was not to say that Jackson was an idealist, he understood that in these days and times it took two parents to keep a household stabilized and life had become much more complicated…but this is not to say he could not dream about a better way of life for his students.
 Suddenly, the phone rang, startling Jackson out of his reverie.  He turned around and picked up the old receiver.  “Hello?”
 “Edgar?”
 “I’m here Chief Morris.”
 “The FBI just called, they’re sending out two agents, a Mr. Damian Coles and a Mr. Roger Christenson.  They told me that they’d be here tomorrow morning.”
 “Thanks, Rudy.  Did they mention anything else?”
 “Nope.  Just that they’d be here tomorrow.  I guess they’re really interested in the case, though, considering they’re sending two agents so soon.”
 “Yes…”
 “You don’t sound that convinced.”
 “I’m not sure.  By the way, how many cops are working tonight?”
 “Let’s see.  Well I’m on call every night, there’s Jon, my son Ricky, but he’s only in training, and Ranger Phillips, but he’s State.  Why?”
 “I think we ought to keep a close eye on the school.  The students are going to know something’s up and I know your other son is probably smart enough to figure out that if it was a water main that burst then the school grounds should be soaking wet.”
 “Pete’s a quick one alright!  You’re right though, we don’t want the kids seeing that.  I’ll post Jon and Ricky on patrol tonight.  We might have to borrow a cruiser from Murbrook, but I’ll make sure that there’ll be two cruisers on sight at all times.  I can even get Shawn on tonight, he was looking for some overtime.”
 “Good.  You might just want to tell Ranger Phillips about what’s been going on anyway.  We want to keep a lid on things but he deserves to know.”
 “Already took care of it.  He’s going to be patrolling the woods tonight for anything our of the ordinary.”
 “Okay, excellent then.  All we have left to do is wait for the FBI then.”
 “I’ll see you tomorrow.  Have a goodnight, Edgar.”
 “You too, Rudy, tell Ellen and the kids I said hi.”
 “Will do.”

 Roger Christenson stared out the car window, glancing at the scenery passing by.  He sat slouched in the rental car a cup of cooling coffee in his hand.  He was on his first case and at first he had been excited and eager to get out into the world and do some real work.  He had excelled at the tests and in the Academy but he had never been on a real-life scenario before.  He had graduated at the top of his class and had shown so much promise that instead of being tied to a desk for his first few months they were actually letting him out.
 His excitement, however, was waning.  Instead of taking what he believed to be the logical route, flying to Boston and then driving, his partner had wanted to drive the entire way.  Not only that but his partner seemed to be inhuman, requiring no sleep or food to continue in this manner.  Roger sneaked a peak at his partner, the enigmatic Damian Coles.  He knew very little about Damian except that he almost always did cases alone and he was one of the most successful workers in the Bureau.  It was rumored that he had connections everywhere and some even said he had connections in Hell.  This was usually laughed off, except that everyone who said it only spoke half-jokingly.
 If there was an X-Files division, like on television, people said that Damian Coles would belong there.  Hell, he would have been the founder.  This was not to say that Damian wasn’t a charismatic young fellow.  He made friends easily and people took to his easy, laid-back style.  He was not above breaking the rules as long as they satisfied one of his three main points: his own enjoyment, the success of a case, or for the benefit of those close to him.  It was said that Damian had the most closed cases and the most violations in the entire Bureau.
 “Enjoying the scenery, Roger?” asked Damian.
 “Wha?  Oh yeah.  Its nice.”
 “Nice?  You’re in the most beautiful part of the White Mountains and all you can say is nice?”
 “Sir, I grew up around here.  I know all about the changing leaves and the beautiful sunsets and all that other stuff.  Is this why we came by car?”
 “Yes, Roger, it is.  I always try to admire nature’s beauty when I get a chance; it centers my life.  I feel that by looking at the beauty all around me that maybe the world isn’t as bad as it appears.  And by the way, didn’t we already talk about that ‘sir’ nonsense?  We’re peers, you’ve just yet to receive your nine millimeter, that’s all.”
 “Okay, Damian.”
 “You said you grew up here?”
 “Well not here, but in upper state New York.”
 “How was it?”
 “It was nice I guess.  I never really wanted to spend the rest of my life there though.”
 “Is that why you went into the FBI?”
 “Yeah, see the world, do good, you know the usual.”
 “Well, we’ll see about keeping those high morals and ethics you seem to have picked up,” said Damian, smiling.
 “Yeah, I guess so.  Have you read the case file yet?”
 “Nope, but I have an inkling about what’s going on.”
 “Oh.  I read it last night do you want…”
 “Are you a betting man?” interrupted Damian.
 “Well…in what way?”
 “Do you bet?  For money?  If you don’t have any we can make it a friendly competition of sorts.”
 “No, I have some money…how much?”
 “Oh, let’s say about ten bucks.”
 “Okay.  What’s the bet?”
 “Well, I’m going to tell you what happened in this town we’re going to, if I’m right then you owe me ten bucks, if I’m wrong then I pay you.”
 “But you haven’t read the case file yet…” protested Roger.
 “I know, that’s the bet,” winked Damian.  “Are you up for it?”
 “I guess so.”
 “Okay, get out a pen and paper.  You ready?  Here we go…We’ll get up there and talk to the local police chief, probably middle-aged, very good at his work but a little overwhelmed by the circumstances surrounding his case.  It’ll most likely be a gruesome murder or a kidnapping.  He’ll probably have outside help, most likely an upstanding citizen, probably the town lawyer.  They’ll both be happy to see us and will probably be willing to help in any way possible.  They’ll want to keep the case fairly low key to prevent any panic of sorts and so they won’t have questioned anyone yet.  The identity of the victim is known, but not right now.”
 “Why?”
 “Hmm?”
 “Why won’t the victim be known?”
 “Oh, he or she’ll be known, but they’ll probably have not investigated the crime scene yet.
 “Waiting for the professionals I see,” Roger said sarcastically.
 “No, I think they’re scared of what it is and they don’t want to hinder our research.  We do have more technology and options open to us than they do.”
 “Oh.”
 “See, Roger, you can’t take the negative view until you’ve collected all the evidence.”
 “I’ll try to remember that.”
 “Well, you don’t have to do that, just keep it in mind, sometimes the smallest things can be the most revealing.”
 “Is that it?”
 “Danford…settled in 1832, population around three thousand.  Not a bad town.  I’ve always like small towns, its so much a part of Americana.”
 “You would love my home town then.  Do you know where the police station is?”
 “Yes and no.”
 “Huh?”
 “It’s a small town so I have a good idea that its on Main Street and most small towns are set up similarly, especially old ones.  On the other hand I’ve never been here before and so I can’t give you pinpoint directions to where it is.”
 “Oh.”
 “Ahh, there it is, right where I thought it would be.”
 “What do we do?”
 “We go up there, flash our badges and talk to the Chief.  Did you bring your notebook?”
 “Yeah.”
 “Good, you take notes.  I’ll ask him the questions and we’ll take a tour of the crime scene.”
 “I’ll let you handle it, this is my first case after all.”
 “Yes, it is isn’t it.  Well just follow my lead and we’ll see where we end up by the end of the day.”
 The two men briskly entered the police station.  Roger stared at the surroundings, oak panel walls were harshly illuminated by overhead fluorescent lights.  The floor was covered with black and white tile.  The walls were decorated with small pictures and awards.  Roger peered closer and saw that they were pictures of the officers in the department.   There were also awards from shooting competitions and a small trophy case with some trophies in it.  A young man sat at the receptionist’s desk.   Damian walked over and lightly tapped on the glass.  The man jumped the back of his head smacking the lip of the pass through.
 Roger sighed as Damian flipped open his badge.  “Special Agent Damian Coles and Special Agent Trainee Roger Christenson.  We are here to speak with your police chief.”
 “Uhh.  Ahh.  Yeah.  Okay.  I’ll, umm, page him,” stuttered the young officer.  He fiddled with the microphone, eventually cause a horrid screeching sound to pierce throughout the station.  Roger and Damian both cringed as he finally found the right button.  “Ahh.  Dad…I mean Chief Morris the FBI is here.”
 Damian turned and watched a middle aged man walk down the hallway.  His uniform was neat and clean and he walked with a quiet assurance of his abilities.  A grin split his face and he seemed to rush forward to meet the two men.  Beside him walked a tall black man.  Unlike the police chief his face was stern and quietly questioning.  He wore a dark, newly pressed suit and gold rimmed glasses that reflected back the two agents.
 “You must be the FBI,” said the police chief.  “My name is Chief Rudy Morris.  This here is Edgar Jackson.  The man at the receptionist is my oldest son, Ricky, he’s in training right now.”
 “Greetings and glad to meet you,” smiled Damian as he shook Rudy’s hand.  “I am Special Agent Damian Coles and this here is Special Agent Trainee Roger Christenson, this is his first field mission.”
 “Glad to meet you, sirs,” replied Roger quietly as he shook the two men’s hands.
 “I suppose you’d like to know what’s going on here?”
 “We got an inkling at the Bureau, but you know our Federal government, she probably keeps secrets from herself,” joked Damian.
 “Well if you’ll come into my office we’ll tell you what’s been going on here.”

 “This is it?”
 “According to the directions that Mr. Jackson gave us it is.  Do you know when he said he’d show up?”
 “He said about an hour or two.  Well, now that we have some time on our hands let’s review the notes.”
 “Okay, the body was found at 7.15 in the morning by Principal Jackson.  It was in the main entranceway tied up fairly well.  It was hard to tell what it was until he looked at the floor and saw a massive amount of red liquid on the floor he thought it to be blood.  The victim was hanging from the ceiling, Principal Jackson could not see how it was rigged up the way it was, but it was estimated by Chief Morris that it must have taken at least two hours and plenty of patience.  It was decided that the body would be left in the condition it was found to prevent the loss of evidence.  Both men also kept as much information away from the public as possible, all that the town knows is that there has been a homicide in the school and that a water main burst last so they were forced to move the school.  The water main was used as an excuse to move the school and is still intact, however.  That’s pretty much it.”
 “Just in time, too.  Here comes the Chief and Edgar.”
 “Damian…Roger, I’d like to introduce you to Ranger Phillips, he’s the Forest Ranger around here and the Fire Marshal for Danford and Murbrook.”
 “Hello.  As the Chief said I’m the State government representative up here,” said Alex as he shook Damian and Roger’s hands.  The group of men headed toward the school.  What do you think we’re going to find?”
 “I don’t really know,” said Damian as he peered into the school, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.  “What’s this?”
 “What’s…holy shit!”  Edgar Jackson walked into the hallway, staring at the water that had flooded the school.
 “This wasn’t here before, I’m guessing.”
 “No, when I left last night it was fine, everything was left the way it was.  I swear…dear Lord…”
 Chief Morris looked around and eventually stared at the body.  “Someone’s been here alright.  That wasn’t like that yesterday, I know I came to pick up Edgar.”
 Damian and Roger turned and looked at the body.  It obviously would have taken the culprit a long time to arrange the body like that.  Roger shuddered as he saw that the face had been removed from the head, preventing any easy way to identify the victim.  According to the information that they had been given the body had been strung up with leather straps and rope to the ceiling, wrapped so tightly that the leather had become a sort of second skin.  Indeed, thought Roger, no wonder Edgar thought it wasn’t human, it looks like a leather doll.  The one thing that had been changed was that an arm had been pulled out and was pointing down the long corridor to the left.
 “Where’s it pointing to?” asked Damian as he moved closer to the body.
 “The faculty offices.  My office is down there and the teacher’s lounge, that’s about it.”
 “Roger, you and Mr. Jackson go down there and see if anything has changed.  Chief Morris go and call for backup and an ambulance, we’re going to get to the bottom of this.  Ranger Phillips, you and me are going to go right.  This obviously must have happened late last night or really early this morning.”
 “What makes you say that, sir?” questioned Phillips.
 “Well the blood stains are gone washed away by the water would be my guess.  If we can find some reddish water then we find out which way the water came and that would most likely lead us to where the culprit came into the building.”
 “I swear,” muttered Morris.  “We had two men patrolling the area at all times and they reported that there was no activity at all.”
 “I believe you Chief, but someone got in here and its time we found out who did this, and why and I’d say fairly soon.”

 Morris walked back to the car, his mind preoccupied with the scene in the school.  He picked up the radio and called the station.  “Hello, Ricky?”
 “Yeah, dad?”
 “Call in an ambulance, we’re going to need one to get the body down.  Also call Shawn and Jon and get them down here.”
 “Ok dad.  Is that all?”
 “Yes…” Morris thought for a moment, his eyes staring back at the school.  “Actually I want you to get any weird happenings that have gone on for the past five years and leave them in the conference room.  Did anyone report anything late last night?”
 “Not anything special just the usual.”
 “Well you might as well tell me about it now.”
 “Okay dad.  Lita Mansfield reported a noise violation in the woods.  I guess some kids were having a party out there, we found some beer cans but no one was there.  She said she could here someone laughing off in the woods.  Actually more like children giggling than anything else.  Joseph Walter reported a similar noise violation too although it was last weekend and it sounded like children crying.  No one took it off the board I guess.  It was the weekend he took Peter and his sons camping.”
 “Well, I’ll call the other two and I’ll meet you down there.”
 “Yes…”

 “Here’s my office, Agent Christenson,” said Edgar as he reached into his pocket to unlock the door.
 “You can just call me Roger.  I haven’t earned ‘Agent’ yet.”
 “How is the Bureau?”
 “I like it, its pretty interesting, although, this is my first case.  Hey who’s that?!”
 “Who’s…  Peter Morris?!”
 “I thought you said the school was locked up?”
 “It was.  Peter come over here.  Your father’s going to have a fit.  Peter?  Can you hear me?  Peter!”
 Peter Morris slowly turned around and looked at both men.  Roger felt the hairs on the back of his neck crawl as an unseen wind filled the corridor.  He could hear a faint sibilant whispering in his ear.  “I am with you.  I will always be with you.  I know.”
 “Peter?!”
 “Let’s get him,” suggested Roger.
 The two walked toward Peter Morris, but as he saw them approach him, he turned and fled down the corridor.  Looking at each other, Roger and Edgar fled after him.  Down the hallway Peter opened a door and ducked inside.
 “Stop,” gasped Edgar.  “That leads to the water main.  It’s probably flooded.”
 “Does it matter,” yelled Roger as he struggled with the door.
 Suddenly the door burst open throwing Roger and Edgar to the wall, soaking them as water poured out…

 Ranger Phillips waded through the water, his eyes open for any sign of blood that would have been washed down the hallway.  Agent Coles stood a little behind him inspecting the lockers, Phillips looked a little way down the hall and saw a reddish stain in the water.  “Agent Coles, I found the blood,” he said excitedly.
 “Excellent.  Let’s take a look here.”  Damian opened his coat and took out a small cup, much like some that are found in a doctor’s office to use for urine samples.
 “What’s that for?”
 “Blood samples.  We might have to do a DNA test to find out who is our unlucky victim.  You’re part of the State government, correct?”
 “Yes I am, a State Ranger.”
 “How good are your connections?”
 “Since I’m only a fire marshal and a park ranger I don’t have a lot of authority.  I do have a friend in the State police, though.  He has access to all the labs and stuff and I can get some tests done in the morgue in Murbrook if you need me to.”
 “Good.  I want you to take this sample to your friend first thing tomorrow and have it analyzed.”
 “Okay, I’ll see what I can do at Murbrook and then I can send some other samples to him as well.”
 “Tell him to put it near the top of priority list anyway.  We’re going to need those results if we want to solve this case.”
 “Okay, I’ll call him tonight and let him know I’m sending some samples down.”  Phillips cocked his head to one side, his ears straining.  “Do you hear something, Agent Coles?”
 Damian stood up.  “I think its running water, but why would…  Uh oh.”
 Damian and Ranger Phillips watched in horror as a wave crashed into them sending them sprawling into the murky water.  The water kept on coming and both men were forced to fight the current until the onslaught stopped.  Damian stood up using the wall to balance himself, he then waded over to where Ranger Phillips was still struggling to regain his balance.  Helping up the choking and sputtering Ranger, Damian saw that the water had risen from two inches to four feet and that the water was an unhealthy grey color and very cold.  “Are you okay, Ranger Phillips?”
 “Yeah.  Where the hell did that come from?!” sputtered Phillips.
 “I think we should go check out the body, there might have been some damage or disruption of evidence that we’ll want to catalogue.  We should go check on Agent Christenson and Principal Jackson, see if they knew where that wave came from,” said Damian as he waded toward the entrance hall.
 Damian and Phillips entered the entrance hall to see it in utter disarray.  Agent Christenson and Principal Jackson had just entered the hallway at the same time as Damian and Phillips and both looked worse for wear.  Roger was covered in grey sludge and his eyes were slightly unfocused.  Edgar Jackson was holding his head.  He had been cut in numerous places but most of the cuts were small and superficial.
 “Are you two okay?” asked Damian as he waded forward to inspect the body.
 “I think so.  What did you two find out?” asked Roger as he swayed slightly in place.
 “We found the blood stain.  I collected a sample and Ranger Phillips is going to take it to the State lab tomorrow morning to get it identified.  Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Damian again, his face mirroring his concern.
 “It’s nothing, just a small concussion, I think.”
 Edgar looked up, “I think if it was a concussion you’d be unable to walk and talk, Agent Christenson.  We just got the sense knocked out of us.”
 “What the hell happened to all of you!?” exclaimed Morris as he walked into the school.  “More water?  Where did this come from?”
 “Settle down, Chief,” said Damian calmly.  “We’ll explain everything at the station, where it’s less wet and cold.  Did you call for the ambulance?”
 “Yeah, I did.  It just came now, I was going to come and get you.  How are we going to handle the body?”
 “We’ll just pull it down.  After what its been through, all the delicate evidence has probably been stripped away.  We’ll have to be a little careful, but seeing that it just survived a tidal wave…”
 “Okay.  Ricky!  We’re going to need you here and bring the gurney.”

 Roger sat in the office chair, his hands warmed by the cup of fresh coffee that Chief Morris had just made.  Edgar Jackson stood at the white board writing down what each group had learned whole Ranger Phillips sat across from Roger his eyes staring aimlessly out the window.  Chief Morris stood watching Edgar write on the white board while Damian dictated the information that he and Ranger Phillips had discovered.
 “Okay, now its your turn,” said Damian as he turned to face Roger.
 “We went down the hallway to Mr. Jackson’s office and the teacher room,” started Roger.
 “Was anything there?”
 “We never got into the room, Agent Coles,” interrupted Edgar.  “Rudy, you might want to sit down.  I had just unlocked the door when we saw your son, Peter, standing at the end of the hall.  Actually, Agent Christenson saw him first.  I called out to him but he refused to come.  He stood there for a little while and then he ran away.”
 “My son?” choked Morris.  “My Pete?  Where’d he go?  Where…why…”
 “Calm down, Chief,” soothed Damian.  “I’m sure there’s a reason behind all of this.”
 “He was such a good boy, too.  All A’s on the honor role.  We thought Harvard or Yale for sure.”
 “I’m sorry Rudy, I truly am,” sighed Edgar consolingly.
 “Did y’all find ‘im?” piped up Ranger Phillips.
 “No,” began Roger.  “We got to the door and he opened it and walked through.  I tried to open it but it was locked.  I guess he locked it but I don’t know how cause when I shouldered it, it burst and that caused the tidal wave.  Mr. Jackson had warned me about it but I didn’t listen.”
 “You did well, Roger,” congratulated Damian.  “I would have done the same thing.  Did anything else happen?”
 “Well, I can’t be sure of it…” said Roger uneasily.
 “Don’t worry if it sounds absurd, a lot of things do initially.”
 “Okay.  Well, Mr. Jackson and I both thought we heard Peter Morris say ‘I am with you.  I will always be with you.  I know.’”
 “His lips weren’t moving, though,” muttered Edgar.  “His lips never moved and when he said that I felt a strange wind in the hallway.”
 “Interesting,” mused Damian.  “Tell me Mr. Jackson, that door that Agent Christenson shouldered through, does it open out or in?”
 “In, why?”
 “So neither of you can’t for sure be certain that he opened the door?”
 “I guess not…but logic dictates that people don’t walk through doors,” complained Roger.
 “Logic doesn’t, but logic doesn’t solve all our problems.”
 “Now what do we do, Agent Coles,” questioned Edgar.
 “We wait.  There’s nothing we really can do until we find out who is the victim.  We don’t want to start a panic so we won’t start questioning the people until after the identity is found.  What we will do is call it a night.  All of you go home to your families and we’ll start a new tomorrow morning.  Chief Morris, you and Mr. Jackson will accompany me back to the school and we’ll try to find out who broke the water main.  It could be that you have a prankster in this town that likes playing with people’s minds and they overheard the two of you talking about the case so I want to find some physical evidence.  Until tomorrow, gentlemen.”

 The phone rang obnoxiously loud.  Damian rolled over, his head groggy.  He had had a troubling sleep, filled with images of people running around with knives and guns and death…too much death.  He picked up the phone, “Hello?”
 “Agent Coles?”
 “Speaking.”
 “This is Edgar Jackson.  We need you to come to the Town Hall immediately.  We know who the victim is now.”
 Damian sat up alert, his grogginess gone as well as his visions of the night before.  “We’ll be right over.”
 Damian reached across to Roger’s bed and shook his partner.  “Roger?  Roger time to wake up.  Roger?”
 “AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!” Roger sat up with a blood-curdling scream, sending Damian flying to the floor.
 “Roger!  Roger, are you okay?”
 “Damian?  Is that you?” gasped Roger as he caught his breath.
 “Yes.  What’s wrong?  Why were you screaming to holy hell?”
 “I…I had… a dream…a bad dream.”
 “Tell me about it in the car, we have to get to the Town Hall now.  I guess Mr. Jackson has found who the victim is.”
 “I…I know…”
 Damian stopped dressing and stared cautiously at his partner.  “How do you know?”
 “I don’t know, I just do.  It was in my dream…”
 “Tell me, now.”
 “O...Okay.  I was back at the school, but no one was there.  The floor was completely dry and everything must have been like before we went to the school yesterday.  The body was still hanging from the ceiling, but it was tightly wrapped, like a mummy.  It still didn’t have a face, but underneath there was a huge puddle of blood.  Written in the blood was ‘I am watching you.  I know.’”
 “A variation of what Peter Morris said,” murmured Damian.
 “I thought so as well.  There was someone laughing too, like they were laughing at the situation or something.”
 “Anything else?”
 “Yeah it smelled like roses and hair spray and some women’s perfume.  It was really strong, almost cloying.”
 “I think we better get to the Town Hall and pretty soon, if you’re right then something serious has just happened.”
 It took them only fifteen minutes to get to the Town Hall and fight through the crowd of people and the small town reporters.  Roger found it easier to shove people aside and thrust his badge in their faces, the FBI badge generally made people nervous and accommodating.  They quickly met up with Jon McPhereson who led them to where Edgar stood in front of a locker.  Edgar’s face was tear stained and tortured.  He had taken off his glasses and he stood sorrowfully, leaning against the wall.
 “We left it as it was found,” sobbed Edgar.  “Thank God the Chief wasn’t the first one here…Thank God for that.”
 Damian look like he was about to say something, but instead turned and opened the locker.  He literally came face to face with Peter Morris.  Roger gasped and took a step back, bile rising in his throat.  Damian leaned closer, his eyes inspecting everything.  Obviously, whoever had done this had known Peter well, as brown glass beads were placed in the face’s eyeholes.  The mouth was twisted into a grotesque smile and small nails had been drilled into the lips as if to symbolize teeth.  He looked at the rest of the locker, dried flowers hung from the top of the locker and bottles of hairspray and perfume were on the shelf.  He could also hear the sounds of children laughing and crying in the background and looked out down the hallway where he saw a sign for the town daycare center.
 “Who found this?” questioned Damian absently, his mind still cataloguing the contents of the locker.
 “Lucy Walter,” reported Edgar, his voice still choking back tears.  “She’s the daughter of Reverend Joseph Walter.”
 “I see.  Well, it looks like we found our victim.  Close off this locker and don’t let Chief Morris look at it, that would be horrible.”
 “What are we going to do,” asked Roger.
 “Find the son of a bitch and string him up at the tallest tree,” replied Damian darkly.