12. Level Up

{Ashley}

It was an unusually calm night. Marigold was sound asleep on the couch in the department of cryptic crimes. I touched her forehead. It was hot. She had a rising fever. This is the aftermath of possessing an ability, huh. Better not to have any than to be sick due to some 'hormonal' changes or repercussions.

Jane yawned as she was inputting Marigold's and Bella's information in the list of 'infant' psychics. Mom had messaged me in the evening that she'd be returning by dawn or soon. I was more than elated to be able to stay home again and leave this one hell of a live-in kinda dorm. Rick had asked me to accompany him downstairs to the gates of BPRO. He said he was leaving because it had been too long since he was away from home. He said his mom would disown him if he didn't return sooner.

I would, in normal circumstances say a clear no at his face but I wanted to have a look at this agency on a closer scale too. So I needed a company.

Jack was on his PC for hours doing the paperwork and what not, for the criminal in question. I pity him. Bella had gone home, asking me to keep in touch and to fill her on about Marigold's health and other stuff.

It's just a fever.

Matt was with Milton in the director's office. They had gone to him in the afternoon and still hadn't returned.

Would they hand Spencer Travis over to the police? And if they do, what would they say? That he is a criminal psychic who killed two people and framed one for the murder of the other?

I shrugged. Rick pivoted his neck to me. No, I wasn't talking to some ghost but to myself. Ah but if this Spencer was arrested...then what about the one in the primary school?

There were two, weren't there?

"Well, Jane was talking about it...she said something about people assuming there were two people with the same first name in the schools. But...there was no other 'Spencer'. I dunno which one was the true one."

Rick replied to me as we stopped near someone's room. Why here? To collect his stuff?

He knocked on the door once and paused. Then he pushed the door open and kept the door open at a few inches. I waited. Why should I. Why even am I. I should just walk away. Marigold must have woken up by now. That girl is such a handful. She's adorable and annoying. I wanna slap her and at the same time stay with her all the time.

Well. I should leave. I think.

"You are hot!" Rick screamed from inside.

What the hell. Who is?

"Just go away. The...fan...turn...off..." A weak voice drawled.

Alfred? Jack? It was some male? Ah, must be Alfred. He's roommates with Rick. But the question is, what's with the intimacy...?

"Rick? Is everything okay? Shall I-" I knocked softly and Rick barged the door open and his face was as pale as a zombie.

What on earth...?

He led me to a person in bed all cocooned up in sheets. I peeked. It was Alfred, fast asleep. I looked at Rick, narrowly. Does he want me to admire his roommate's beauty while he's asleep? Nope. I have more important businesses to attend.

"He's burning up. Al. What should I do?" Rick bit his lip and frantically searched through a shelf for something. "I..I think...he got scared on our way here to BPRO and got sick because we...had been given some treats by a clown. That...that thing must've...must've...been so creepy-" 

Rick accidentally dropped a wristwatch. Alfred moved in the sheets.

Treats and clown? I think I was asleep. I had taken a short nap in the van. Ah, is that why Alfred got 'hot'? Sick....

Fever? Is it infectious...? But Marigold's fever died down just a few minutes ago. Jane messaged me.

Did it get passed onto Alfred?

Why's Rick behaving like this? Looks like some kinda panic attack. And clown?

I called Jack and informed him of Alfred's condition. He said he'd come in a while.

"He'll be okay. Jack's coming. Stop worrying." I said and he looked at me, picking up his bag. "And, clown? Why would he be scared of some joker? Those things are so weird and not even worth a laugh at." I laughed it off as we walked out of the room. Rick didn't reply. He simply gave a nod.

What was wrong with him? He hadn't spoken a word since we got down from his room. We were out of the lobby and now walking to the parking-lot . Matt was gonna drop off Rick. This man was like the multi-tasker in the department. Such vibrancy.

We waited near the small blue-black van. Matt was on his way. Should I leave Rick here? He had only asked me to keep him company till we reach the ground floor and now we were in the parking-lot.

I hit the heel of my shoes against the tyre of the van and stole a glance at Rick. He threw his bag in the backseat and pushed his messy hair back as it fell over his eyes. Just trim it.

Thinking about why he was like this, it was when he mentioned about why Alfred got sick rather than how...because of a...clown?

Wait. Does he have a phobia or something? Of clowns? Cause that's a thing. But is that even possible. I mean, he became a clown as a character on Halloween. There were no signs of any fear.

"Boo! I'm a clown!"

I zoomed into his face as he dropped a pen on the ground. He drew back and pushed me away lightly.

"What are you doing..." Rick said as Matt reached us. 

"Alfred is scared of clowns? Is that why..." I began as Rick laughed, sliding open the door of the van.

"Clowns are scared of him." He said, sitting inside. "Okay, see ya-"

"Wait." I stepped inside the van. "I'm bored anyway. Matt's dropping you off and returning here so I might as well come along."

Rick's eyes popped out. Nope. They didn't . He blinked and hid his face in his palms trying to keep his laughter in. Why is he laughing.

"Just say you want to keep me company and that you wanted to come along for a free ride."

"I did not, okay!" I stood up but fell back on the seat as Matt propelled the van to a start.

"Yeah. Ok. Ok." Rick laughed and Matt followed.

Why's he laughing too. Am I a laughingstock or what.

I had to accompany him. No excuse. He was having something similar to a panic attack moments before. Also that strange fear of clowns which doesn't apply when he's one and the rubbish. Well, no facts confirmed, but I was just humane.

"Hey, does Alfred get a fever after every case or like this was one exception because it dealt with the paranormal and etcetera?"

I asked Matt as Rick turned to him, curious too.

"Our Al, eh. Ne'r really. 'Tis common fe'r him. Seasonal thing, ya know. Doesn't lars't long. Ne'r worries." Matt replied, wheeling the van in a fast roundabout.

Common? Seasonal cold...okay. Heard of that. But seasonal fevers were a thing, I  didn't know. Well, not my business. I should tell this to someone who was actually interested, example...Marigold.

Rick was texting someone. Who? His home. Someone probably.

We stopped near a lane of houses lined on both sides. There were little shrubbery around almost each house. The distance between each house was wider than the distances between Allen and me. Why did I have to remember that.

Rick bid us a bye as he got off the van. But a girl in loose leopard PJ's came huffing towards us. She held Rick's ear, her brown wavy hair was all over her face.

"So this is when you return eh! Mom's worried sick! She told me if I ever catch you sneaking in, you're gonna have an earful!" She screamed at him, pinning her hair up with one hand but not letting go of his ear.

"Ow, dammit Martha! Let me go! You're embarrassing me. My friends are here..."

Rick murmured as Martha drew back her hands and smiled at me. I returned the gesture with a handshake.

"I'm Ashley Ricardo. It's...great to meet you...,I guess."

"Oh Yes. Same here. Ashley, why don't you and your...dad come in for a while?"

She peeked inside the van looking at Matt who was busy on his phone.

"Ah. He's not my dad...he's..."

What should I say...That he's from a detective agency and that we have been caught up in some case. And that's why he dropped us off here?

''Uncle. He's her distant uncle." Rick pressed his lips, gesturing me to play along and I nodded at Martha. "Hey, Matt...Mr. Matt..., can you come with me to my home for maybe a cup of hot coffee...?"

Matt nodded enthusiastically and greeted Martha. Wow. Now there's no way I can turn this down.

Martha led us from behind the shrubs and herbs to a house behind the greenery with a covered front porch. The house was typically a Craftsman house with tapered columns supporting the roof which was more sturdy at the bottom, becoming smaller at the top. It had exposed rafter tails, sorta like the beams that stuck out of the house and could be seen under the eaves. With a green roof, work with brown, yellow and red body colors, both light and dark.

This place seemed so...historically preserved.

When we got in, Rick seemed restless and kept asking me if I wanted to return. Martha made me sit in the living room with Matt. The sofa was wooden and had imprints of a lion. There was a spiderman bean-bag next to me. I glanced at Rick and he rushed to me.

"Do you need anything? Water?"

I blinked. Why's he...damn...he seems like a normal teen and not some punk who is always up for practical pranks and mischief. Well, normal boy teens are the same though.

"Patty Poo, you don't ask. You serve. And, Ashley...if you want to freshen up yourself...you can go to the washroom."

Martha called out and I swallowed my urge to laugh at Rick's pet name. Rick gritted his teeth at her.

"No. It's ok."

Matt got up. "I'd like to though. May I?" Martha scrunched up her upper lip and smiled, leading him to her right.

I sat in a princess position. Why am I here.

Rick brought me water and I sipped from it once. This was my second time visiting a boy's house. The first time was with Allen and it was such a weird experience. This time, things are contrarily different.

I looked up at the ceiling. The golden rim of the light on the ceiling higlighted well with the mauve color on it. Rick sat next to me. His fingers were intertwined and he was tapping his thumbnail on his knuckles.

"Mister Patrick Adams! I'm pleased to welcome you after your return from the military campaign for our country which you risked your life for and fought for us for three days! I'm proud of you, my son."

Ah. His mom. She was a short plump woman with her bobbed chestnut brown wavy hair up in a knot. She had an ankle-lengthed floral designed frock on as she walked to Rick with a broomstick in her hand.

Damn no. I don't wanna make a fool of myself by laughing at him for being hit with that.

Rick got up and got behind me. "M-mom! Hey...hi. I missed you." His mom nodded with a cheesy smile, tapping the broom on the floor. "And, did you seriously memorize all those lines just to sound cool?"

She took the broom and almost raised it at him, nearly ignoring me. "No, to give you time to realize you are dead before I kill you."

"Wait! Ashley's here! She's my friend! I told you I was solving some case! Ashley is the witness!" He shrieked and hid further behind me. Let go of my shoulders first.

"Um, hi. I'm-" I cleared my throat.

"I know. You are such a sweet little girl. Why are you with Rick? And what's this... case?" She approached me and Rick ran away upstairs fleetingly clasping his hands together at me to forgive him. "Whew. He's slime. Can't get my hands on him. And don't worry. I know what he's been on. He sent me a selfie and I saw you and some people in coats in the background."

She smiled and made me sit back on the sofa as I nodded nervously. Matt returned and greeted her.

" 'M fr'm BPRO agency an' 'm sort or'f like a errand-boy. Or man." He stuffed his handkerchief in his pocket.

"Ah. I see. Well, my son hadn't been picking up any of my calls so couldn't you people have made sure I was informed of his state?" She placed a bowl of macaroons on the table as her daughter brought a tray with two cups of coffee.

" 'M s'rry fe'r tha'. I got no clue wha' was hap'ennin'. Ya can ask Jack."

Matt popped a macaroon in his mouth.

"Hmm. Okay. Thanks. I'll just check up on Rick and come." She left and within a minute Rick's head appeared from the stairs behind the sofa.

He mouthed at me. 'Is she gone?'

I gave him an o.k. He jumped from the stairs and grabbed a macaroon from the bowl. His mom apparated from behind him. Whoops. Was she hiding here?

He choked as she held his collar.

"S-sorry mom! Don't punch me!" He squeaked as she let go of him.

Punch? So Rick has a boxer for a mom.

"Tell me what did you do?" She demanded, snatching the half-eaten macaroon from him as he stared at it longingly.

"I told you! I solved a case! And yes, I've got a form too! They liked my tactics so much that they asked me to fill this form in for registration to get accepted as a trainee in BPRO."

Rick rummaged through his messy bag and pulled out a form which was nearly crumpled. She seized it and began reading it. Her eyebrows went up in pride. She called for a pen and Martha gave her one.

"Here's my approval signature. Let's see you do some work for real now. And if you don't bring a decent grade next time then I'm gonna haul you right out of that agency before the whole population."

She signed on the column for parents' signature and gave it to an appalled Rick.

This was unexpected. He's out of fire and into the frying pan.

"Hey mom, you know something... he had borrowed that Captain Hook costume from the kid next-door and had gone from his school to scare him." Martha gave a sly smile to her brother. Rick pressed his finger against his lips. She nodded sideways.

Captain Hook? But he was a clown on Halloween.

"Um, mom...I only did it for fun. Who would be scared of Captain Hook, c'mon. He had also scared me last Halloween in a clown costume! Why can't I!" He hit the floor with his slippers.

Last year...clown costume...huh.

"Yeah yeah. Do whatever you want without getting caught. Okay? Now, hurry up and help me clean your room." His mom put the macaroon in his mouth.

She's the real deal. Martha sprawled on the sofa opposite me and I stiffened. She popped a macaroon on her tongue.

This family is a whole soap-opera.

"Um, I think we should leave...and thanks for the...er...dessert and coffee." I dusted my jeans even though there was no speck of dirt on.

"Ah. Ashley. Dearie, sorry I left you alone. Do visit again." She gave me a hug and shook Matt's hands.

Martha waved at me and winked. What? Rick was talking to Matt. I went over to his sister. "Did you..."

"Gimme your number. I'll give you all the secrets of our Rick here and you give me his' from whenever you're with him. Okay?" She said in a bully-like tone, tapping open her phone.

I stared at her. No way. I won't give. I shouldn't have. But I did.

After all, siblings do this.

Rick waved at us as we drove back to BPRO.

*_________________________________________*_________________________________________*

"There are so many loopholes to this case."

Marigold said, crouched on the couch as I told Jane the long story at Rick's house. Marigold had no say to that.

"What kinda...?" Jane swirled to her from her chair.

"How did you guys know there was that one Spencer and he was the killer?"

Marigold wiped her face with a wet towel and pushed back her hair with her cat-eared hair band.

"That...ah. Because he had borrowed an identity from an ex-worker at the school who worked there long while back. He was Spencer Fuller. He worked in the primary section. The older staff knew of him. But they had retired. And he simply left his job because he got another one. Our suspect was on the second Spencer. Spencer Travis. Because his work location was in you guys' building where Alicia killed herself, as people say. But Jack had a doubt. He wanted to visit both the locations in one time. So I suggested we split up."

Jane cracked her joints and wheeled closer to us for a clear voice.

"As you know, me and Milton had gone to the primary section. We met the head of the section. He was kinda like a manager of the school. We asked him for someone called Spencer. He said that there was one guy named so and he had left the job. So I mentioned the full name. Spencer Fuller. He checked his records and says there's one such name fed but the worker has been on a leave for a long time. So we had cancelled out his name from suspect list because he wasn't seen by anyone. And we had no leads on him. And we were gonna focus on the other one. Travis. But Milton had wanted to find a book on some medical thing and he took me to the library there. It was dumb of him to search for books with doctorate authenticity and the like in a children's library but he told me what he wanted was for his wife. Well, so we met the librarian. She was old and kind. So I asked her about Spencer. I got to know the short story behind this. That's when she showed me the picture of Alicia, Spencer and herself. I asked her his last name and she told she didn't remember."

Jane gulped some water down and tied her hair into a pony. I was sitting next to Marigold who was completely absorbed into Jane's narration.

"We had to do one thing. We asked around the school to tell us who the man in the picture was. No one really knew. Some knew him by face not by name and some said they didn't remember what he looked like-this Spencer. But a handful of people said he was Spencer Travis who was a worker in Tigris High. That's when I got to know...this guy was fooling us. Keeping two identities and all. He had asked this guy, Spencer Fuller, to not resign from his job or to give over his ID batch to him else he'd maybe kill him or make him lose his newly-found job. Fuller was a simple timid man. He gave in. This happened in 2011. And from that year for a span of four months or so, Spencer Travis, the killer... came in and started working as Fuller. He only ever said his first name to the people there, in primary section. Never the last name. And with his original identity, he began working at Tigris High, simultaneously. He did this to not raise any suspicions regarding the murder or suicide of Alicia, if there were any."

Jane threw herself back on the chair and demanded for cold water as Marigold rushed to her service.

"But who told you about all of this? The criminal himself?" Marigold sat on the floor, angling her head up at Jane.

Jane swallowed then spoke, "Jack. Remember he was on his PC all while you guys were chatting away about something...I dunno. And he asked Al why should they head to Tigris High. Right? Well, he had a rough estimate of stolen identities but his estimate turned out to be true. While Al found out the nicknames and their true meaning and everything with Roger's help, Jack was busy with Spencer part two. He made poor Milton go out and question the real Spencer Fuller. We got the info outta him and also that he was a psychic. That was a real risk. A criminal psychic out in public. That's also why we were rushing this case and even asked minors like you to help us. Ah, really...you guys helped a lot. Thanks."

Marigold smiled and nodded. Psychic and that shit. I don't believe in it.

"But...," she began and Jane slapped her forehead. Alfred entered the dept. Jane pointed at him and got up.

"I've got to give Henry his dinner, sweetie. Ask Al. He knows everything. And, Al...did you..." Jane fetched her bag and gave a bunch of keys to Al. He nodded.

"Yes. All of it. Consumed." He looked at me and searched the room with his eyes.

Ah. Rick? Jane left with a nod.

"Rick went to his home. He told you a bye too but you said 'go away'...something especially when he wanted to give you meds for your fever."

I rubbed my eyes. It was night already huh.

Al breathed out and went to his desk.

"Fever?! You too? Oh no." Marigold rocketed towards him and tiptoed to touch his forehead. "I'm so sorry. I infected you. You're not warm now but..."

"I had no fever. Must have been due to me being exposed to heat for long. There was a heater in my room and maybe that's why." He gave the book to Marigold. The golden-lamp diary.

She jumped and took it. "You didn't see..." She narrowed her eyes, flipping through the pages of her diary.

"No. But...you have interesting theories." He stroked his front hair strands. Marigold's eyebrows creased and her mouth twisted.

"So you did." She scolded, stuffing her diary in her bag.

"But it helped a lot. So you can't complain. I did nothing wrong. You helped us solve a case." He filed a bunch of papers.

He's got some brains twisting her mind like that when he's the wrong one here but she's not gonna see that. She's gonna see how she helped him.

"Really?!" Her eyes went round.

See, told you. I've seen guys like these. Manipulative mind-controllers. And the reason I dislike this Alfred Robinson is this.

"Yeah. And that's why Jack asked you to join the agency as a trainee. It's up to your guardian to accept it or not." Alfred moved his gaze behind me and then got back to stapling sheets. Oh. He was completing some assignment. School work.

"Ah...hmm. Hey, Alison..."

"Alfren."

"Alfred."

"Alfre- never mind.  Just call me Al."

"Al. Or Demon Prince. Yes. Anyway, tell me how did these two women die. And what will now happen to the criminal? If police have him, how are you guys gonna explain he's a psychic? And how did you come to know his name started with Spence? Did you arrest Spencer Fuller? What happened to him? And...!"

Marigold kept circling him as he turned his head away and finally gestured her to keep it down.

"Sit down. I'll tell you everything. But no, wait. We've both got school tomorrow." Alfred sprung from his chair and collected his books.

"No! C'mon. You told I did a good thing and now you won't tell me anything! You're a real demon king! Not a prince! Even if Ash knows, she won't tell me cause she's mad at me! Mean people!" She puffed her mouth and made her foot falls louder on purpose.

Alfred gave me a look and rolled his eyes. Jane asked her to question him so he shouldn't disagree, right? And sweet little Marigold, I don't know anything. Nor am I mad at you. I just have to put on an act...until...you listen to me.

I pointed at the wall clock when Alfred saw me reading a pamphlet. It was barely eleven p.m. He sighed and sat on a cushioned chair.

"Macaw, come I'll tell." Marigold skided to him and sat on the floor, facing him. "...get up and sit on a chair. I'm not telling a story. It'll be the questions you asked, I'll be answering them, but only till one p.m."

Marigold bobbed her head fast in excitement.

"Death of the two women..." he began and it was in simple words. Like when you

tell a kid about someone being killed. Not to scare them and to also tell them everything.

Alfred narrated that Mrs. Amanda Thatcher died of being strangled. The 'dream' which Marigold had was the encoded representation of how the aunt had been killed. She was drugged in the day time by Alicia who had no idea Spencer had drugged her aunt's tea. When she fainted, Alicia had called for Spencer who said it was not serious and he'd help her gain consciousness. Alicia hadn't realized her aunt was drugged. She thought she was having a heart attack because Mrs. Amanda had a problem with her chest few days ago. She had panicked.

Spencer had asked her to bring a large bag which is used for wastes to be deposited into. He said he wanted to make her lie on it, on the floor for proper breathing. Alicia wasn't much educated. And that's why she got the job in a teacher's position recommended by her friend's grandmother.

So she had brought the plastic bag as instructed by Spencer and he did what he had told. He made Mrs. Amanda lie on the floor on the plastic bag and he put an oxygen mask on her mouth. He asked for a quick dosage of sleeping pills. It had some scientific name. I dunno. Alfred said it but it's too hard.

Alicia hurried to the drugstore for the meds. Meanwhile, Spencer did his deed. When Mrs. Amanda gained consciousness, he had asked her to handover the documents related to her farmhouse to him. She refused and hit him with a lamp. He tried to stop her but she hit him on the head and ran away to the first floor, to her room. She bolted the doors but he stopped her from doing so and put the plastic bag over her head and all this while he had gloves on. He demanded to know where the documents were but he killed her by asphyxiation  or choking before she could even tell anything. Well that's how she died. The fingerprints were Alicia's and the reason was clear as well. The approval from the chemist in the drugstore she had gone to proved as a witness or testimony that she gave her sleeping pills and then killed her. The police were on the look-out for her. She didn't know how her aunt died.

Spencer knew he'd get caught when she'd reveal his intentions and about him. So he told her to stay in the city while working as a regular person. Her friend helped her get the job at Tigris High which wasn't divided into sections or buildings then. She worked as an art teacher for the lower grades, up till middle school ...due to her excellent skills in pottery and sculpting. The headmaster during that period was a humble man so he got her this job not based on qualifications but talent.

Well, whatever the matter was, Alicia had no clue Spencer was the killer. She worked at the school for nine months in the school in 2011.

She had maybe got to know from someone, most probably from the old librarian because she was kinda like the one who has all the gossip of the town with her. She got to know that her aunt was 'murdered' and that the culprit is out roaming free. She had begun to investigate and it took her three months to uncover the truth. She had seen the documents with Spencer when he was asleep in his quarters and she began to look into how to get him to surrender or to trick him into it.

She had informed the police prior to the plan she had made and tricked Spencer to carve something for her on the wooden desk of the last classroom because there was no one there at that moment. Spencer had brought a saw for this memento-carving. When she asked him about her aunt's death, he got the hang of it. He had asked her to hold the saw for him. She didn't suspect this because he would have no weapon in his hand. He activated his telekinetic abilities and made her kill herself. The police arrived at the spot to see a note on the desk which was a letter Alicia had written to her aunt when she had decided she'd leave the town and move to the city. It was about how she didn't like her and loved Spencer more but in the end she did love her somewhere and that she'd hate to leave just like that. The guilt would eat her.

She hadn't left that time, though and nor had the letter been delivered. It was stolen by Spencer when Alicia had dropped the idea seeing her aunt's heart conditions. Her death was concluded as suicide due to guilt of murder.

After Alfred concluded the story, Marigold yawned in the silence. She nodded sleepily.

"But..."

"Spencer Travis or Tooker Skeletor hasn't been taken away by the police. At least not yet. Whenever there's a psychic criminal, we hand him over to the head branch of the BPRO. The director and the executive director do a little something to them and they are then sent to the police with the criminal record, manipulated neatly to look like a normal case. And they... I think their abilities are snatched away."

Alfred kept glancing at the wall clock. It was not time yet. He wants to escape from Marigold.

"Hmm. I wanna see the head branch...too."

Marigold said dreamily, falling over Alfred's lap but holding herself immediately.

Abilities...snatched away? How's that possible? Leaving the fact aside about if I believe in the psychic crap, if you snatch away something with which you're born with or injected with, what happens to the body..., I wonder.

"And...your other question..., ah! We did not arrest Spencer Fuller. He was not guilty and was merely involved in the crime itself. Well, Jack did ask him to pay a penalty for not reporting this to the cops..." Alfred got up and began checking all the PC's. Jack sure was generous, letting him go like that. "...and regarding how I got to know about his name. 'Spence'..., because of my ability. I think someone told me...Alicia, maybe." He smiled as he shoved a set of books inside a shelf.

Ability? Fancy him having an ability when I don't believe in all this bullshit.

I glanced at the digital wall clock. It was nearly one. Thirty minutes to one.

Alfred gave Marigold a book. A bedtime tales collection. She frowned at him and hugged his arm.

"Daddy, read me a story and tuck me to bed..., pwease."

I stifled a giggle as Alfred ground his teeth. He jerked Marigold off his arm and she snorted madly.

"I'm not your dad!" He drew back and threw the book on a desk.

"Then don't try to be one. If you treat me like a kid, I'll treat you like a parent. Fair?" Marigold glowered at him and he blinked.

It must have been a first for Alfred seeing Marigold angry. Well, it was as rare as dinosaurs returning. I too am surprised. So, calling her a kid makes her angry? That's what ticks her off...?

"But you are younger than me. In...seventh grade, right?" Alfred gave the book back to her and she put her hands on her hips.

Marigold in seventh? Great. I can now tease her about that. About her young-childish appearance.

"Narcissistic Fox..." she mumbled and I heard it. "Wow. I look like a kid? Awesome. I wanna be pampered too then. Okay. We've school tomorrow and good girls and boys go early to bed. Bub-bye."

She blew us each a flying kiss and hopped off.  Alfred stood transfixed, staring at a blank computer screen. No one must have insulted him like that. Serves him perfectly.

But she didn't ask one thing which was bothering me for a while. Alfred would probably not know about it but she should have asked, nevertheless. It was the sports room in our school..., why was it left open at so late at night in our school when Alfred borrowed the rollerskates from it and returned it to Martin the peon, later?

Even if Spencer was up to no good, what would he do in a sports room? He was a robber, a thief and sports equipment wouldn't delight him.

It could also be the workers cleaning up the classrooms and other departments. But that doesn't convince me.

I walked to my shared-room in which Marigold was already asleep. Alfred had locked the department up and gone to Jack.

I threw myself on my bed. These past few days have been awfully tiresome and weird. I can't believe I had other thinking to do besides homework and familial issues. Criminal and parapsychological. Also, it goes without a second thought how Marigold was quick to believe in the non-existential.

*________________________________________*_________________________________________*

"Feels great to see Miss Lawliet and her ever-so-interesting psychology lecture."

I stretched myself on the chair in a psychology class, the first thing in the morning. It's usually a boring class, like the mondays which seem longer than a lifespan but after the long and monotonous criminal investigation, this was a treat for the mind.

Of course, I got bored pretty fast. Not really of my interest but the topic ma'am was dealing with was a sub-topic and was actually the product of other girls' doubts. It had veered off-course. Paranormal psychology. I dunno if that's an area of study but yes, the girls were firing questions rapidly at her regarding the recent case which wasn't so recent- Alicia and her suicide.

It hadn't even crossed the news channels yet but was now the talk of the girls' conversations.

Miss. Lawliet was answering questions like she herself was an expert on paranormal science. I had plugged in my earphones and got busy listening to Kesha's songs. Ah, great.

Bella kept glancing at us. She was seated on the last bench. We were on the third row from her desk. Marigold was quiet and was scribbling something down in her golden diary. Who even gave her such a weird-shaped diary? This delusional girl got a perfect present.

I had to talk to Marigold. But, it'd be so great if she initiates like always. Ah. I'm so spoiled.

It was lunch break when Marigold rushed over to Bella who gestured me to come over. I walked to them, chewing on a strawberry croissant. Marigold still had her lunch, unopened. She was discussing some new 'theory' of hers with her probably. Bella sipped on a carton of orange juice.

"...What's it then?" I heard Marigold say and Bella bobbed her head, showing a palm at Marigold's face. She swiped open her phone.

"Talk to the person who explained you the details of the case."

Bella gave her the phone.

Marigold frowned. "Jane...?" Then her face lit in surprise. "Whoa, Al and Rick! Hey...cool. They're live!" She jumped and Bella pulled her down and asked her to keep it down.

"What's she...?" I began, leaning in to Bella.

"She says she forgot to ask how Alicia was killed. And about...her dream...of maybe cats and...well, just listen. Al would give us an answer, if he has any." Bella snickered softly and got back into her former position.

"I can't believe you are video-calling me to ask questions. We have P.E now and I had to take a bathroom excuse." I heard Alfred's voice as Rick shouted a 'hi' from the background.

"Listen. Al. I don't remember telling you about the cat dream. But I had it after I was with you on the case of the missing baby. It was..." she scooted to a safe corner and began her tale.

Her dream was about she sleeping her in room and spotting our in-charge's cat pass by. Miss. Olivia's dead cat. She followed it and came to a lane to see a woman in white, glowing. She assumed it was a psychic. Then she moved to the school, it was Halloween there. Everyone were inside their classrooms with their costumes on. She said, some girl comes up to her and compliments her dress and throws a rhetoric question at her about cats. She asks her if she loves cats. Marigold said, she looked at her shirt with picture of cats and runs away to the bathroom in panic because she knows she doesn't own a shirt like that.

In the mirror, she wipes her glasses and sees that she can see clearly without them. But instead of seeing her own reflection, she spots a short-haired girl.

"...which I think is Alicia. Then..., yeah...I feel like the lights flicker and I'm pulled somewhere...dunno where and feel myself inside a plastic bag. Also,...some cold hands touched me. Brr." She shivered slightly as I pass her a bag of chips but she doesn't realize it's me and shoves a couple of them inside her mouth. "What do you make of this dream?"

There was silence. For a few seconds I didn't hear Alfred. But we heard him talking to Rick.

"Hey, Alicia Killeen taught art to the lower grades, right?"

"Hmm? Yeah. Why do you ask?" Rick's voice filtered in.

"Because...why else would she go to the third floor of the last classroom? Those classes wouldn't be reserved for the kids..., would they?"

It looked like Alfred was talking to himself rather than to Rick.

"No. Those classes on the third floor were for eleventh and twelfth graders and are now as well." Bella said, peeping into the screen. "Don't tell me she was some kinda convict too."

"Hey, Bella. When did the rumors of the third floor being haunted began?" Alfred asked and I threw her a gaze.

Haunted? Why's he so sure about all that Marigold says. Those are just dreams.

"Hmm." She slurped and bit on the straw as Marigold grabbed a juice box, inspired. "Ava, when did the rumors begin...of the last classroom on the third floor being haunted?" Bella communicated with Ava, her benchmate.

That goes down in history. Ava blinked then turned to her.

"I guess, after...Mr. Collis Collingwood became the Headmaster. Nearly ten to twelve years back. Or maybe even earlier." She blinked and turned away as Bella sat next to Marigold.

"Heard that? Why? Did your brilliant mind work something up?" Bella smirked as Marigold struggled to hold the phone to show Bella.

There was again silence and Alfred spoke to Rick, again. It was in a distant tone but I could make it out.

"Rick, I think Alicia was a spirit-medium. She went there, to the third floor every time and talked to the spirits. Either that, or..."

"...She was possessed?" Rick spoke into the phone.

"Yeah, I think so. When Jack told me about when Spencer was interrogated, how he said that he never wanted to kill her but stop her from killing him, I thought he was lying and only trying to escape..." Alfred looked at the camera. Rick was trying so hard to fit in.

"But, he ended up killing her because he was defending himself, right?" Bella snapped her fingers and Alfred gave a grim nod. "Hmm. How was she killed? Telekinetic saw?"

"Yeah, he controlled the saw in his hand to kill her." Alfred said, moving Rick away.

"Then, the girl with cats on the shirt..." Marigold munched on a spicy potato chip.

"As per the appearances, it should be Alicia but...what's the thing with cats and woman-in-white...?" Alfred said as the school bell rang.

"Hey hey hey! What if, after the investigation and all, Spencer hid the body of Alicia in a plastic bag, like he did to her aunt?" Marigold hushed into the speakers.

"That could be it. Jack's still interrogating him with Milton. If he doesn't listen, they'll take him to Madam Aurora. That'll kill him." Alfred said as Rick pulled him away and they whispered something before disconnecting the call.

Seems they've been caught. Or were about to be.

The rest of the day went by and I needed an excuse to not think about the last floor class. Just something to get it off my mind. I checked my phone. Mom said she'd be a little late due to an urgent business. She said she has left me some snacks in the fridge. She had come back to California, to Lonesville District. But she might not be home when I go. Dad and Kevin would return by evening.

I poured tap water on my face. What a day. Bella smoothened her olive-green blouse as she washed away the traces of the Orange juice was spilt on herself by accident.

"Quick. Quick. I need to go too." Marigold knocked on a bathroom stall hopping as a girl looked her from the corner of her eye and left, laughing with her friends.

"I think we'll need to wait a little longer after school." Bella said, wiping her face with a tissue. "Al messaged. Said he would want to investigate the classroom, wholly. It'd take a little while, to get official permission so I told him to just come when everyone's gone." Bella twisted her lip, showing me the message.

"Yeah, so? I won't come. He won't either else I'll issue a complain stating the same old, 'boys come over to girls' school'." I said as Marigold returned from the toilet.

"Hey, Ash...we're going to the third floor and wait for Al to come. He'd most probably come with Jack else...I dunno." She sprayed water over her face. "Come with me too. I'm not really scared but..." she pouted and stressed her brows.

I looked away. Bella put her arm around my neck. "Don't be afraid. I'm there. If the ghost chases after you, I'll punch it. Okay?"

I angled my neck. Really? Ghosts? I laughed. Well I'll go. I agree I am an afraidy cat but ghosts actually exist, was as hard as believing Marigold is a clairvoyant.

Marigold jumped and nodded. Where does she have all that energy? I glanced at the school ground from the railings. No one was in sight. The grounds were empty of human existence. Well, wouldn't hurt to walk more and lose some weight.

Marigold rushed past me and stuck her tongue out at me. "I'm way more faster than you snails!" She laughed and sped up.

Uh huh. Nice. Let's see you actually run and wait for us in the classroom. You'd probably wait for us near the stairs to the third floor. And yes, there she was standing, resting her body against the side-railings of the stairs.

The passage behind her was dark and reflected shadows from the windows that were probably opened for ventilation.

I stopped. Bella was on her phone, leading Alfred upstairs, I guess. I could hear their voices from below. Marigold peeked from the stairs at the floors underneath. I sighed. She was on tiptoes. She'd fall if she loses balance. That'd be a morally right lesson for her to not interfere in matters better reserved for adults.

"Hey! Al! Rick! Over here! Up! Come up! Quick!" She said, waving her hand at them whose response was barely heard. The LED lights in the passageway flickered once before turning off. Great. The timing is perfect. My hair was swept across my face due to the wind. What? "...It shouldn't take you long. I'm waittt-" she slipped and was hauled off her position. She rolled on the stairs in an awkward position and fell on the floor.

Bella caught her just in time, before her head could hit the wall in a dangerous angle. Al and Rick rushed upstairs. I hurried over to her. She was laughing and moaning at the same time.

Marigold didn't slip. She was standing just fine. She was pushed. I saw it. A pair of pale white hands had pushed her just when she bent slightly over the railings.

Someone pushed her and I couldn't see who had.

*__________________________________________________________________________________*