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Jake Wheeler is walking with a retro Good Guy doll that he just bought from the yardsale from Mrs. Jolly. He is listening to his crush's podcast with his earbuds in.
"What's up, detectives? It's ya girl here, Delaney Evans. Here in Hackensack, the mayor likes to say the Angels are always watching over us, guiding our destinies and keeping us from harm. Well I call bullshit on that."
Jake snorts at the last sentence. Delaney loved to cuss, and it was funny hearing her do it. To him, she sounded both cute and badass at the same time.
"The mayor wants us to think that we're all living on Main Street in Disneyland, a fantasy, but the truth is, Hackensack is an asylum for the bizarre, jacked-up, and straight-up criminally inSANE. In the past year alone, our murder rate has spiked by 25%. 25 people! And the mayor expects us to believe we're safe enough to keep our doors unlocked at night? Screw that!" Delaney sounded frustrated.
Jake didn't like when she was frustrated.
"We haven't seen this type of violence here since the Ray family massacre in '65. A complete bloodbath that spawned one of the most notorious serial killers in history, Charles Lee Ray, a true menace to society. I guess we could all thank the Lord HE'S dead. Phew!" Delany breathes a sigh of relief.
"True that," Jake mutters, agreeing with his crush's words.
"Anyway, back in the day, Charles was one of us, growin' up right over on Sherwood Lane. You won't read about it in the "Times" dispatch, but you can hear all about it every week. Until next time my Nancy and Nelson Drews, this is ya girl Delaney bringing you... "Laney's Broadcast."
Jake smiles after the podcast ends. He then enters his home.
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It was nighttime, and Jake was having dinner with his father, his uncle, his aunt, and his least favorite cousin, Junior. He wasn't liking it so far, considering the displeased look on his face.
"So, Junior has some news," Bree reveals.
"Mom," Junior says, not wanting his mother to put his business out there.
"Guess who made regionals," Bree continues on.
"Holy shit. Oh, that's great, Junior," Lucas looks at his son. "Isn't that great, Jake? Huh?"
"He's the best distance runner at Perry Middle since... well, since his father," Bree amusedly looks at her husband, who is quietly cheering.
"But regionals is on the 10th. It's the day I'm painting City Hall with the Scouts, remember?" Junior reminds.
"You already made Eagle Scout, which reminds me, you're gonna need another extracurricular. Harvard's gonna want three. If anyone can handle it, you can," Logan told his son.
