One would think that freaking out over a stain that was covering your name so you could barely read it is pushing things over the top. I agree. You should not panic if there is a stain on your floor or anything else because it is not the end of the world. However, that rule only applies to stains that are not red. What was that? How do you know if the red stain is not ketchup? Why, you taste it, which is exactly what the male cop did.

The blood was still fresh, so he scraped some off the paper using his finger and licked it. "Mmm," he said. "It is definitely real blood."

Mario covered his eyes with his hands and stuck out his tongue. My mother just narrowed her eyebrows and slowly shook her head in shame. As for me, I had to cover my mouth so that I would not bring up my breakfast if you know what I mean.

"Why the crub would you do something like that?" Mom questioned the officer. Her voice had a demanding tone to it.

"I just wanted to make sure that it was blood and not ketchup," he defended his actions. "You would not believe how many people call the police when they confuse a ketchup stain for blood."

My stomach settled, and I uncovered my mouth and was relieved that I would not have to show Mom and the officers what I ate for breakfast. I cleared my throat and said, "You could have taken the note for analysis. It would have been safer and less disgusting."

"No can do, little girl. Do you know how many times we officers ran an analysis on a red stain that turned out to be nothing but ketchup? A waste of time!" He folded the note and slipped it into his back pocket. "I will be taking this note for evidence. And when your husband returns from wherever he is, you two need to come down to the police station."

Mom pointed at herself. "Me and my husband? Whatever for?"

"Duh. So we can take any statements and evidence that your husband might have. We need the full picture before we can proceed with the case."

She slowly nodded. "I understand. I will give you my word that we will be at the police station."

"I would suggest that you and your husband visit by the end of the day," the female officer commented. "This case involves two attempted murders, and we would like to put handcuffs on the culprit or culprits before he, she, or they strike again.

A reasonable question popped into my mind, and I blurted, "What if my father does not show up to our house by then?"

The male cop adjusted his police hat on his head. "I pray that it does not come to that, but if that is the case, we will have to declare that he is missing and issue a search for him."

Mom pressed her hands to her cheeks. "My husband could be missing?" Tears formed in her eyes. "No...I love him too much to see him dead..."

"Do not get ahead of yourself. There is a better chance that he is fine and on his way home than if he was captured and killed."

Despite his reassurance, it did not help me stop worrying about my dad. A killer or killers were on the loose and probably targeted randomly. I facepalmed. I forgot that the killers were none other than the scarecrows. They buried the paramedics in the cornfield...and were probably holding my father hostage as we speak. But where? Or did they already kill him and bury his body somewhere?

It hit me like a brick. I snapped my fingers and grabbed ahold of Mario's wrist. I jumped out of my chair and tugged on him.

"What has gotten into you now, Robin?" Mario asked.

"I have to do something important and cannot do it without you," I said.

"Okay..."

"Where are the two of you off to?" Mom asked us. "If it is school, do not bother. Witnessing a couple people buried in the cornfield is an excuse to skip school."

"We have an errand to take care of," I lied. Though, it was not much of a lie.

Mario got off the chair and followed me out the front door and down the sidewalk. He wanted to know what I was up to, and I told him that we were visiting the unfortunate paramedics. We made it to the hospital and jogged inside and to the front desk. An old woman was sitting at the desk and typing away on the computer.

There was a small bell on top of the desk, but I thought that it would be best to not press it. I stood on my tiptoes and tried to get the woman's attention.

"Excuse me? Ma'am, excuse me."

"I hear you, sweetie. Just give me a moment." She finished typing out something and looked up at us. "How can I help you two today?"

"I hope that you can," I responded. "Were there two paramedics admitted here?"

"No." She pointed a finger at the waiting room. "They were admitted over there." She burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh. That was my funniest joke yet!"

My best friend glanced at me. "Are we supposed to be laughing?"

The old woman forced her laughs to die down. "Yes, dear. They are here at this hospital. Would you like to see them?"

"As soon as possible, yes."

"Are you a relative of either of the men?"

"No, but I found them in my family's cornfield."

She stopped what she was doing, and her glasses slid down her nose. She pushed them back up. "It was your cornfield where they were buried?"

"Yes, and I would like to ask them some questions. You know. For the police."

Then I was pushed to the hospital floor.