"You went alone?" Asked Casey, staring at Lukas in awe. The room had agreed to adjourn in Gordy's basement for another briefing. Tomorrow was Christmas, but that didn't mean anything to Casey. Holidays were a waste of time to him.

"I don't see the big deal. I realized something and went to check it out."

Casey snorted and rolled his eyes. "I think you're missing the part where you could've been killed."

"You're so dramatic," Lukas drawled, throwing his head back in exasperation. "Trust me, I knew I was safe." 

Dev and Lukas had agreed that he would tell the group what they discovered, only he would leave out that she went with him. She wasn't happy that he would take all the credit, but it was mandatory in order to keep Casey calm. Things with the murder were starting to pick up. They all needed level heads if they were going to figure this out together.

"Anyway," said Casey. "I called you all here because I have some important information." The room sat in silence, waiting for him to continue. "I talked to a few of Gianna's other, nicer friends and they told me that she had complained about her dad acting odd. They said it had been going on for about three weeks before she . . . um . . . passed."

"Did they say why he was acting that way?" Asked Ryan, arms crossed. "I hate to say it, dude, but they might've just been trying to get you to go away."

"Well, either way I think we should check it out," chimed in Lukas. "Gordy, can you find his office online?"

There was the sound of keys clicking and a less than coherent uhuh. "It says he's on Third Street, Roosevelt Boulevard."

"Awesome," Lukas clapped his hands and stood up. "Let's go."

•••••

They pushed through the front doors of the law firm and filed inside one by one, admiring the large windows and grand mohagony floors. The secretary at the front desk peered at them over the frames of her glasses with pursed lips. Then, with an an unhappy grunt, she resumed staring at whatever was in front of her. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah. We're looking for Mister Kinsley," said Ryan. He glanced back at the rest of them desperately. His eyes were round with fear.

She raised her eyebrows, the wrinkles in her face folding. "Did you make an appointment?"

"No, but—"

"You can't see him without an appointment."

"Can we make one now?" Casey asked, annoyance thick in his tone.

"No."

Dev took a steeling breath and stepped up to the counter. "It's about his daughter. I think he'd like to see us," she kept her voice firm, though inside she was trembling.

The secretary's eyes never left hers as she reached for the phone, only glancing away for a split second to press a button. "Mister Kinsley. Someone's here to see you," there was a short pause. "No. They don't have an appointment," another pause. "But sir, it's about Gianna."

She hung up the phone and cleared her throat. "He's ready for you. It's the first door on your left."

Casey smiled at her as they made their way down the hall. His grin only disappeared when they entered the office.

"Please. Take a seat. Make yourselves comfortable," said a low, booming voice. Dev examined his appearance from the regal leather chair she sat in. Mister Kinsley had auburn hair and deep blue eyes, brought out by the creases surrounding them. There were worry-lines on his forehead and several paper cuts on his fingers. "You came here about my daughter. Were you friends of hers?"

"Sort of," Casey replied, a grim sadness clouding his eyes. "As foolish as this sounds coming from a bunch of kids, we're investigating her death."

Dev had expected Mister Kinsley to laugh, but instead he looked relieved. He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, examining them emotionlessly. "The police are insisting that everything was an accident. You don't believe that, do you?"

"No, sir. We think she was murdered, and we have substantial evidence to prove it," said Lukas. His elbows rested on the arms of his chair and his hands were crossed neatly in front of him.

"You do?"

"Yes, sir," Lukas took in a nervous breath and glanced up at the clock. "We were the ones who found her body."

Mister Kinsley's eyes flashed with shock, the color draining from his face. "Are you . . . Lukas Hasten? Isn't your father the detective who came out with a statement about her death?"

He nodded. "I am, but me and my friends think he's wrong. We found proof that someone's been stealing case files from the police station, including Gianna's. The coroner's report, which was attached to her file, says nothing about alcohol in her system. That's why we came to you. We were hoping you could help us."

"Help you? How?"

"We thought your position as a lawyer may have had something to do with a motive for her murder," piped in Ryan. Mister Kinsley pursed his lips skeptically, obviously reluctant to say anything. "Look, I know we're just kids acting like adults, but we're the only ones in town who are doing something about this."

He sighed, then slid open his desk drawer. "A few weeks before her murder I had been receiving threats. They always came in letters typed with a typewriter. I threw away most of them, but I kept a few," he pulled out three papers and handed them to Casey.

As he flipped through them, he narrowed his eyes. "'I'll never forgive you for what you did to her. You ruined her life.' Signed Babylon. Ruined who's life? And who's Babylon?"

"I don't know," he said frustratedly, rubbing his forehead. "I didn't think her death and these letters were connected, but . . . now I'm not sure. I didn't want to go to the police in case this whole thing blew up."

Casey sat up straight in his chair. "Forgive me for interrupting, but aren't you a lawyer? If we find enough evidence, could you prosecute someone for Gianna's murder?"

"I guess, but you'd have to make the evidence rock solid. You know what," he slid them an empty folder. "Keep the papers. If we're going to win this case, you'll need them."