Peace at Last

• When Mr. Evans ghost appeared on the crisp night of the carnival, Maple was fascinated. Obviously,
• but most people would get a cool chill through their spine and Maple had her eyes on him like she
• would have her eyes on the stage at a playShe felt a connection to him after seeing how her had died. She finally felt at peace and to some extent, it was at his hand by dying from a heart attack and not a murder. 
• She stood there waiting for his ghost to move, waiting for something to happen. I mean could it simply be a coincidence that he appears just a few weeks after she begs the heavens for the truth about his death?
• The whole scene was still. No one had moved since the carossoul had flickered. They all waited- waited for him to say something, do something. 
• He looked directly at Maple, who happened to be standing very close to where Mr. Evans appeared. He put out his hand as if to shake hers. The town gasped. Why Maple? But she stepped forward, shook his hand and smiled. She then watched as the airy shell of Mr. Evans got blown away in the wind.
• If the whole town hadn’t stopped in their footsteps for his arrival, she might not have ever believed that this event happened. She now felt truly at peace, for someone appreciated her long sleepless nights and her hard work. Mr. Evans himself.

Finally

• Maple had fallen asleep on her couch yet again, watching the local news. Turtle was laying at her feet. Her computer was snuggled up next to her. 
• That's when the light made her wake up. She shook her head, rubbed her eyes. She shook Turtle away.
• "Turtle, Turtle! Look! Let's go outside!" Turtle rolled out of bed, with no response and walked to the door. Maple put on his leash and the pair ran down the stairs.
• Both of them locked eyes with the beautiful lights across the sky. The whole town lit up!
• "Wow" Turtle said, "Look!"
• "I know it's beautiful!"
• "No, I mean look!" Turtle lifted up one of his front paws and pointed into the sky. A car was falling from the stars.
• "What. Just. Happened."
• "Why are cars falling from the sky? Maybe we should go back inside," Maple said nervously. Just as they started to turn around, Turtle heard someone talking.
• "What do you hear something?" Maple turned, forced to stop my Turtle's pause to listen.
• "Someone just said that the sky, the lights, they grant wishes."
• "Wishes? Does that mean more cars are falling from the sky tonight?"
• "No, Maple, you know what this means. The search is over." 
• Maple's eyes grew wider than they had ever been before. She could feel her heart beating out of her chest. She felt like she could throw up.
• "I wish to see how Mr. Evans died."

The Investigation Begins

• Maple starred at her screen which read “Ryan Lotche’s Ted Talk.”

  Her eyes lit up. While Ryan Lotche did not spark her interest in the slightest, the idea that the whole town could be in one place at once.

  After leaving her house with a lot of gusto the week before, she was still able to accomplish nothing by roaming the streets and searching for evidence on her own.

  She slapped on Turtle’s fake service dog vest and his leash and blasted out the door.

  “Why are we going to this again?” Turtle asked. Maple stayed silent with a big smile on her face. Her eyes looked ahead and she continuously picked up her pace.

  “Wait, this isn’t the way to the library,” Turtle realized, “Where are we going?”

  “To the police station,” Maple’s expression didn’t change.

  “Wait, why?”

  “Why would I go to carry out my own investigation while everyone in the town was preoccupied with something else? Oh I don’t know!”

  “Maple, Maple, this is a really, really bad idea!” Turtle tried to stop but Maple continued to pull him.

  They arrived at the door of the police station. Maple turned to Turtle with the same evil determination in her eyes.

  “You will be look out,” she said as she picked the lock. Turtle decided to stay silent.

  *For legal purposes this part of the blog has been blocked out*

  Maple ran out of the police station barely grabbing the end of Turtle’s leash as she bolted.

  When they arrived home, she pulled up at least 20 pictures of classified files. Now the investigation could really begin.

  As she sat down, the small piece of paper that she had written for Lotche’s speech fell out of her coat pocket.

  It read “Never reveal too much about what you do in the Olympic pool, for it will come back to haunt you.”

  This was the one element of her plan that she had forgotten. She could usually slip in and out unnoticed, but not tonight.

  
  

  She had to hope that she didn’t leave any evidence behind that there was someone in the police station.

Something needs to change

• Maple stared blankly at her open computer. Or maybe at her carpet. Her vision had gone blurry from lack of focus. She could feel her shoulders slumping, her eyes closing and her head slowly falling closer to her chest. The last time she slept was… was… 
• Turtle pounced on the couch, just enough that her head popped up. Her back rested on the arm of her teal couch, one foot rested on her inner thigh while the other was spread across the length of the couch. Turtle’s warm head rested on her leg. The entire world was cold, but she was searching for warmth. Something to keep her comforted during this cold winter that offered no answers.
  She could feel Mr. Evans spirit over her, begging her to answer the questions that only he had the answer to. Her laptop was open to a free criminology course that she found online, but she didn’t feel like she was making progress.
  That’s when she first started hearing his voice. A voice she knew, but couldn’t place. Her heart rate didn’t even rise, as if it was someone who had been in the room the entire time.
  “Was there blood on the crime scene?”
  “No, yes, nooo,” she didn’t even open her eyes. She let her head fall onto her shoulder.
  
  
  
  She woke up to Turtle licking her face, yet again. The same routine over and over again. She would wake up, maybe get herself a cup of coffee, spend the whole day looking for things that would never come. She would fall asleep on her computer and wake up to Turtle.
  
  
  She jolted up, as if someone had just poured cold water on her face. This was bull. No one cared about this investigation. No one cared that Mr. Evans was dead. She looked outside the window of her apartment, everything was normal but covered in snow. The snow brought more to the town than his death. She slammed her computer and ran outside. Turtle followed, shutting the door with his tail on their way out.
• 
  

Looking out for something special

Maple starred out her window. The hail fell fast and hard. She watched as the ground turned to slush. Usually, she loved this time of year.

• She wouldn’t get to visit her family for the holidays this year, it was just her and Turtle. In a small town, filled with slush and murder speculations.
  Something about this year had taken a toll on her. Perhaps it was her job or the bleak whether, but the end of year seemed to only bring Maple a deep pit in her stomach.
  Her computer laid open on her teal coach. There were about 20 tabs open, all local news reports on the murder. The only light in her apartment came from the street lights outside. The longer she stared out the window, the more she realized how small pointe place was. She could see the whole entire thing out of her window.
  Perhaps the fact that she couldn’t leave this year made the town even smaller than she thought it was before. She missed her family dearly.
  Turtle climbed up on the couch next to her.
  “Are you okay, Maple.”
  She didn’t take her eyes off the window. “Ya.”
  “You don’t seem like it, is this about the unsolved case of Mr. Evans.”
  “Ya, that’s probably it.” She took her head off the window and pulled her computer onto her lab, resuming her article exploration.
  The world felt low, almost like the hail was freezing the entire town in one spot.
  Just then the tornado siren sounded, Turtle shook violently, just as he always did.
  Maple pet him softly, resuming her long stare out the window. She was waiting for something. Maybe for her family to magically pull up in their red station wagon. Maybe for a random piece of evidence to fly up and hit her window.
  That’s when she saw it...
• 
  

• Maple spent all night researching everything she could about Mr. Evans death. She tried to find how he died, why he was in his car, any suspects, but nothing was online yet. The only articles she could find were on statements from mourners from her building. She felt stumped.
  “Maple, are you okay?” asked Turtle.
  “Ehhh, I don’t think that we will be able to solve this murder anytime soon. No one will publish anything on him.”
  “Maple, people are still mourning! Maybe you should be focusing on that instead of creating a crazy plan to solve this mystery!”
  “This is my form of mourning! I can’t sit around and be sad, I have to find justice!”
  Turtle furrowed him brow, as dogs do, and turned his head back to the episodes of friends that he was watching. It was 1AM. The entire building was dark, police officers were outside monitoring the doors. Maple was on her computer, drinking sleep tea. A typical night for the pair. Everything is still. Except Maple, who was swiftly typing up the minimal information that she had found online so far.
  Maple woke up the next morning, with her computer as a pillow. She had fallen asleep on her counter for the first time since college. Turtle was comfortably sprawled out on the couch. It was 10AM, her shift started in an hour.
  “Turtle, wake up!”
  ‘What, what!!” Turtle twisted off the couch, seeming startled by Maple’s wakeup call.
  “If you want to go on a walk we have to leave now!”
  Maple had a new drive, a new jolt of energy. There was not one time since her and Turtle started living together that she had woken him up. It felt good.
  The two of them walked downstairs, talking about which route they should take around town this morning that might give them the most clues. Just as they were walking out of the building, Coco caught their attention.
  “Honey, shouldn’t you have that dog on a leash?” She had one hand on the building to keep her standing up.
  “No, I think he’s fully capable, hahahaa, he’s never run off. Isn’t that right Turtle!” He nodded in agreement.