Arrived (Book One)

Chapter 7: An Agreement

As soon as Dad entered the house, I took careful strides across the wooden floorboards, careful not to get any crimson blood on my shoes. He calmly walked pass the maid as if he couldn't careless about her situation, then examined the living room.

Much to my surprise, the living room appears to be untouched: The glass chandelier hung stiffly on the ceiling, most of the furniture was spotless, unless there were drops of blood sitting on the blue velvet couch, and mostly the windows and doors reminded me of a typical ransacked house's.

"Aye," Senior Goodman moaned. "I can't believe this is happening." Suddenly, his dark eyes grew very wide. He dropped everything that he carried then stormed upstairs.

I was just about to get out my phone until Dad gave me a cold stare. "Don't call the police," he advised. I gave him a puzzled look, but slipped the device back inside my pocket.

Just when I wanted to ask him why, a thought just slapped across my face: Senior Goodman is a high social class member, so if I called someone, the authorities and the press will give him a hard time.

I also realized just as soon as the word gets out, Mom would have a panic attack. "Pedro," someone cried out. The pained voice was coming from upstairs. Sounds of broken glass and rubble scratched my eardrums.

Dad pulled out his black revolver out of his waistband then barked at me to stay downstairs. He grabbed the staircase railing with his left hand and hurried upstairs while I stared at the bloody remains of the so-called burglary.

I was cautious as a mouse, still careful not to get blood all over my sneakers and clothes. The bloody corpse of the maid caught my eye as I calmly maneuvered the broken fragments to get closer to it.

I walked until my foot was a couple inches away from the maid's arm. I looked at the woman's face, trying so hard not to lose my lunch. The woman was quite pretty, she had long black hair, traces of blush and dirt was smeared on her face, and wore a black dress with a white cotton fabric sewn on the clothing.

With the crisis at hand, I might as well get started with solving the break-in. My dad always says that the first thing to do when you solve the case, is try and figure out the surrounding of where the crime will take place.

Other than the pieces of glass showered on the floor, I saw huge chunks of rock lying on the ground. Forced entry, I thought. The next thing you do, is try and put yourself in the victim's shoes.

I left the body where it was, then headed outside to look for more clues. Just as I closed the door behind me, the men who once stood around the mansion had been gunned down. The massive bodies laid still on the grass. Small marks appeared on every single back of the bodyguards' heads. Instead of freaking out, I squinted my eyebrows in confusion. This massive murder occurred around the time that my father, Senior Goodman, and I have entered the mansion.

Taking out my phone from my pocket, I walked up to the body and snapped a picture of the head, using the Bird's Eye and Close Up View. Just when I was about to put my thumb on the button, something shiny gleamed in my eye. Instantly, I was crouching on the grass, rummaging the ground to find the object until my finger hit something very smooth and delicate.

The object was a golden bullet hovering over the corpse's head, like a halo. It has a smooth curvy edge and a point that can easily tear through a person's flesh. It was no doubt that this bullet was the one that killed the guards. But the trick is, who started the kill? And most importantly, why wasn't Dad, Goodman, or I hear the chaos going outside?

Was this the doing of a professional killer? "Cleo," someone said. "Get back-" I looked up from the body and saw my father staring at the lawn as if he was a lost school librarian. I never seen Dad so scared before, his eyes were suddenly dull, and his cheery color drained from his face. "What in the world?" he gasped. I managed to get up from my crouching stance and walked over to his side.

I immediately filled him with the details while showing him the pictures of the head with a black bullet mark. Dad ran his fingers through his hair as he let out a pained sigh. "This is bad," he moaned. "What happened upstairs?" I asked, wanting to change the subject. "Senior Goodman found his wife dead in her bedroom and his older son missing," Dad answered.

I stared at my father then shuddered at the memory of Goodman wailing his wife's dead body. "What can we do?" I asked hopefully. "Maybe I can ask around-" "Cleo," Dad interrupted. "Let me handle this. Because of this problem, I might have to call the police and have them investigate the matters at hand, and your mother as well."

I let out an annoyed sigh. I hated being treated as a child, Dad should have known that by now. I flashed my puppy eyes at my father, hoping he will change his mind. "Please?" I begged. "Can't I at least help you catch the killer?"

"Cleo," Dad began, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "Please?" I repeated. He let out a sigh then stared at me. His expression was firm. "Alright," he said finally. "You can help me with my investigation."

I nodded very eagerly then hugged my father tightly. "But," he added sternly. "You need to be extra careful." I released his waist and bobbed my head up and down. "You must do what I say," Dad insisted. "That means, no running off, don't horse around, and don't mess up."

"Okay," I said quietly. Dad smiled as he ruffled my hair. "The reason why I said yes, because it didn't seem fair for my daughter to have no fun on her vacation." My eyes gleamed with cheerfulness.

"When can we start?" I asked impatiently. "As soon as the cops are finished investigating the scene," Dad explained. "Then, we'll take it from there.