Deputy Reynolds stepped into the house carefully. She thought that she should call for backup, but again this was Mike Thompson. Surely there was some sort of mistake. "Come on out Mike. She moved carefully across the entry way and into the front hallway. It looked like a miniature tornado had hit the inside of the house. Drawers were pulled from the writing desk in the front hall and papers scattered across the floor.

When he did not comply, she leveled her shotgun and stepped from the hall into the kitchen. Molly's body lay on the floor, in a pool of blood. "Oh shit." She fought back her own bile. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw something scuttle behind the refrigerator. It was a scene straight out of a CSI show and there was no sign of Mike, other than some bloody footprints. Shit....

She realized that she really was in the house with a killer, and she had been a fool to come in alone. She quietly started back toward the front hallway, determined to go back out to her car and call the sheriff. This was to much for one deputy to handle.

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Randal nodded, as the thin man held a hand out. "Please as punch ta meet you miss. Name's Roy Jenkins, but folks round here call me Jinx, on account of how much bad luck they have when playin' cards with me. This is the place alright. Old Rosco will be able to fix you up in Randy here can't."

Jinx was amused. Randy had taken to calling himself Randal in university, but no one in town took him seriously about the name. They had all known him when he was in diapers, after all. "Come on inside and we'll get you all fixed up."

Randal smiled at Natasha in assurance. Jinx has seen the way that the boy hovered over the girl, and looked at her. She sure was a looker, to be sure, but he was a married man. Still, everyone in town would be happy if Randy found himself a girl, instead of staying all kind of odd hours at the school, grading tests and tutoring students.