I slumped into the precinct, exhausted from all the running.
"But why wasn't he there, Gran?" I sighed.
"He'll be there," Gran promised. "We just have to be patient."
"Patience is not my strong suit," I muttered.
"Jeez, you're slow when you're tired." Gran lifted me up, and I didn't even have the strength to protest.
After setting me down at his desk, Gran went out to Moondollar to find me a coffee.
I tried to ignore Goldie's burning glare, but it nearly set my hair on fire. I swivelled the chair so I could look her in the eye. "What's your problem?" I snapped.
Goldie rolled her eyes. "Do you even have any proof it's Arreus Clawman?"
"If you don't know, then obviously you don't need to know," I said, leaning back in the chair.
"Stop acting all high-and-mighty, Red. We're exactly the same. You're. Just. Lucky." With each word, she slammed her manicured hand on her desk, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed. "So don't you think for a second you're better than me."
I froze, unsure of what to do. I hardly knew how to deal with angry people, especially Goldie. "I don't- I'm not lucky."
"Oh, yes you are." Goldie let out a bitter laugh. "You were never caught and I was."
"Caught?" My breath stopped.
"Yes, Red, darling. I know what you did. I know why you have such a- vendetta against Arreus. We were taken into custody around the same time, remember?" Her smile was sickly-sweet.
A buzzer sounded.
"Oh." Goldie tossed her hair. "Mind getting that for me?"
I stood up quickly. "Fine."
I jogged down the stairs to the front desk, where a girl about my age was waiting.
Her dark hair was fashionably curled and flowed over her shoulder, and her dark chocolatey skin was flawless. She had large round golden sunglasses obscuring her eyes that went perfectly with her small handbag dangling from her wrist and her unbelieveably high pumps, and somehow she pulled off the soft mint harem pants she was wearing. Her plum-coloured shirt was so short I could see her gold belly button piercing.
It was Jazz Chada, literally named the most beautiful girl in the country. And one of the media princesses.
She thrust out a perfectly manicured hand. Her nails were a pale pink. "I'm Jazz, and you are?"
"Red. Benedict. Can I help you?"
"Yeah, uh, my friends are being murdered. And I have far too many things to do with my life than just die at seventeen so I'm here to request a protective squad," she said.
"Well, we don't really-"
"Listen, Red." She lifted up her sunglasses. Her eyes were almost black and her lashes were so long they touched the sunglass lenses. "I'm not actually asking. I'm here to get a protective squad and I'm not leaving without one."
"Well-"
"Besides," she added, digging into her handbag, "I'm tired of carrying this around." She waved a small pistol around before sticking it back in her bag.
I leaned away from the gun. "Listen, Jazz, I'd love to help, but I barely even work here."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I recognize you now. You were with Gran Vega at Eloise's, right?"
I nodded. "Such a tragedy."
"Truly," Jazz agreed. "But I'm not going the same way as those four. I haven't eaten anything all day, Red, and I'm a little hangry. So please, if you can't help me, can you find someone who can?"
I shrugged. "I guess. Uh," I glanced around, glad to catch a glimpse of Gran coming through the door with two coffee cups in his hand. I waved him over wildly.
He looked confused to see Jazz. "Uh, hey," he said awkwardly, handing me my coffee and then shoving his free hand deep inside his pocket.
Jazz grinned. "Gran, thank God. Someone's about to murder me."
"You seem pretty calm for someone about to be murdered," Gran noted.
"Oh, I have a pistol just in case. But I need a little squad, like bodyguards or something."
Gran, now that I think of it, seemed a little frightened. "Bodyguards?"
"You know what? Maybe I should just hire a taster, to test my food." Jazz furrowed her brow. "Ugh, that's too expensive. I've been buying a couple companies so I'm on cutbacks."
"Companies?" I asked.
"Do you two just repeat everything I say? Yes, I bought a couple companies. Just to keep me busy, you know. They're doing quite well." She noted this as if speaking of the growth of, say, several small plants or a handful of cats.
"Cool. Okay, why don't you stay at the precinct for a bit? If that makes you feel safer-"
Jazz tilted her head. "It does. Have you seen Ali?"
"The thief? Ali Daniel?"
"Yes," Jazz exhaled. "The thief. He, uh, stole some... watches. Watches. From my house. And I need them back."
Gran and I looked at each other and shrugged.
He leaned down. "I'll take her. Do you want to-"
"I'm going to look over the case file. Have the ME's results come in yet?"
"I don't know." Gran lead Jazz away and I continued upstairs.
The ME's results had indeed come in. To my dismay, the hair wasn't a DNA match for anyone in the system. Or the few fingerprints found on the sill, besides the ones that matched Rapunzel.
But fingerprints on the glass matched Arreus's.
Without warning, I let out a shrill squeal of excitement. I was right!
"Uh, you okay?"
I jerked up. Gran was staring down at me, concern written all over his face.
"I'm fine," I sighed. "This case is just... most of the DNA match is a dead end, except for the prints."
"Are you sure?" Gran squinted at the file. "Look, down here it says the hair's a match for... Snow White? But..." he drifted off.
"That has to be a typo. I mean, she's dead. If it's not... that's creepy," I said. "Let's go down to the ME's office?"
Gran nodded in agreement and I followed him down the stairs to the basement, where the medical examiner worked.
Carthrew, Unsam's brother, was the co-head Medical Examiner.
"Gran, Red, what can I do for you?" he asked, peeling off his gloves.
"Uh, the hair we found at the scene," Gran began, "it's not... it says here it belongs to Snow White?"
Carthrew nodded, his eyes darkening. "Scared me, to be honest. But DNA doesn't lie. Maybe the killer knew her." He shuddered and muttered something under his breath.
"What's that?" I leaned forward.
"Oh." He looked surprised that we could hear him. "I was just saying that I really hope she's not back."
"Back? But-"
"I don't mean to dishonour the dead, but that girl was a little off. I hope she's not... not..." Carthrew shuddered again.
Gran's eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Carthrew insisted, though the stiff way he stood, the way his eyes darted around the room, the paleness in his cheeks indicated otherwise. He seemed... afraid.
Gran and I shared a look.
"If you don't mind..." Carthrew mumbled, "I have a lot of work to do."
After bidding Carthrew good day, Gran and I headed upstairs.
"He was acting like Unsam," I noted.
Gran nodded. "It must be hard on them, doing a case so much like hers. But resurrection, well, everyone knows that's a myth."
I shrugged. "He examines dead bodies in a basement all day. I wouldn't take him too seriously."
Gran smirked. "Fine, but if Snow White really has resurrected and she's murdering people, I'm going to be so pissed at you," he joked.
I swatted him on the arm. "You've been reading way to much science fiction. Don't you dare mention that to Hansel either," I added. "He won't shut up about it."
A scream echoed from the other side of the precinct.
Gran and I only had to glance at each other for a second before knowing what to do: we ran.