The phone was ringing, disrupting the peace of the house. Krystle stretched and rolled herself out of bed, wondering who the hell is calling at 3 in the morning. She slowly made it to the phone and answered.
"Hello?" she asked as if to question 'Who is this?'.
"This is the police chief, Hoggins, we need you here right away." The man on the other line states, causing Krystle to roll her eyes.
"What is so important that you had to wake me up at 3 in the morning?"
"Ms. Millers, there has been a murder down by the local pub." Krystle nodded, as if the man on the other side of the line could hear her.
"I'll be right there." She said, hanging up the phone and calling someone else. After a couple rings, they answered.
"What can I do for you Millers?" A man's voice came through the phone.
"Well Mr. Dawson, we have a case to work on." Hayden had sighed on the other line, but listened.
"Meet me at the pub."
"See you soon then." Krystle hung up the phone once more. Then headed to her room to change into a simple short light pink dress and flats. She fixed her short blonde hair to the way she wanted it. Her brown eyes fixed on flattening the one curl popping out of her head. Krystle's small frame filled the body length mirror as she finally tamed her hair. Then she grabbed her black notebook before walking out the door.
~ ~ ~
The street lights was the only way to see the dark building this late. Well that and the flashlights moving around everywhere behind the building, like a small rave. Krystle walks towards the area, Hayden following right beside her.
"Fancy seeing you here Dawson." Krystle said with a grin on her face. Hayden chuckled, shaking his head.
"Yeah, it's definitely fancy going to see a dead man behind a pub." Krystle jumped with excitement because she loved getting involved in a crime, to try to dig into a criminal's mind. She didn't reply, just skipped her way to the crime scene. Once they arrive, they notice the man on the ground, lying on his side. Krystle quickly opened her notebook and grabbed a pen, writing down anything she notice.
A caucasian male in his late 60's, early 70's. Bald. Blue eyes. Around 5'5. Cause of death: multiple shots to the chest.
She stopped writing and made her way over to one of the policemen.
"Excuse me, can you tell me anything about this man?" Krystle asked. The policeman looked over, shocked at her appearance.
"Ma'am, are you allowed back her?" She nodded.
"My name is Krystle Millers, a private detective. The chief of police asked me to be here." The man looked shocked once more, and then looked over at Dawson with a questioning look.
"Hayden Dawson sir. I'm Millers stalker, no big deal." Hayden said, joking at the end. Krystle laughed and hit his arm, then looked back at the cop.
"He's kidding. Dawson is my friend, he helps me in some cases." Krystle said, but the cop was still eyeing Dawson.
"Now, tell me what you know." The cop nodded.
"This is Drake Emerson, he's 66 years old. Recently divorced. He was shot 5 times in the chest. The bartender inside claims that there was an argument in the pub so he kicked them out the back." The policeman paused trying to remember one thing he knew he left out. His eyes lit up as he remembered, "There was also a business card that we found on his body." Krystle nodded and quickly took a picture of the card on her phone for a future reference. Then she grabbed Hayden's arms, leading him inside the pub.
