"Wow. This place is a mess." He said as he walked out of the bathroom. The smell of coffee filled the air. I rubbed sleep from my eyes.

"I would have tidied up if I had known I would have visitors at three a.m." She responded spitefully. The man did not respond, but helped himself to the coffee, seeming to know his way around the house. Never having to ask where anything was. 

"You know, I had just fallen asleep." She spat.

"You're just grumpy 'cause you didn't get your beauty sleep." He said mockingly. She glared at him over the lip of the cup.

"Why are you here, Atticus?" She asked.

"Top secret." He said pridefully, straitening up. The girl snickered.

'What are you laughing about, Cassiopeia." He added a insulting emphasis her name. She was on him in a instant, pinning him to the floor with one arm, despite her slender appearance.

"Do not scorn my name." She sneered into his face as she pressed harder on him.

"Ok. Ok. Cassie. Calm down." He said. She slowly got off him. He straightened his suit and glanced at the door, then his watch.

"You have not been sleeping? And you are on your computer a lot. It must be really interesting." She smirked and looked at his hand. "Also, where is the briefcase you have been holding?"

"Stop dazzling me with your reasoning skills-" He said as he pulled the case from behind her kitchen island (clearly out of her line of sight). He pulled out a file. "-And read." He said as he handed it to her.

Cassie flicked her unnatural red hair out of her face, and opened the file. Atticus watched her eyebrows rise as she read.

"Are you stumped?" He asked jokingly. Cassie tossed the file on the island.

"No, I am surprised this warrants a three a.m. trip to my house." She smiled sarcastically as she took a sip of her coffee. Atticus grabbed the file and put it in his brief case.

"You want to tell me who you think it is? Or even better, who you think I think it is?" He smiled, but it was empty. Something was nagging him. Cassie seemed to notice.

"Let me finish this." She slowly drained her coffee.The apartment was silent. Suddenly a helicopter sounded. Cassie looked up as if expecting it. She rinsed the cup and quietly placed it in the sink. Atticus placed the cup next to her.

"Any guesses?" He asked. Cassie glanced to the door at the door.

"Are they out there?" She asked, not answering his first question. Atticus nodded slowly. Cassie gave a quick nod of understanding.

"Do I have the code word?" She asked. Again, Atticus nodded. Cassie became visibly more anxious.

"You think that-" She asked, straight faced. Pushing her anxiety down. Atticus nodded, much more regretfully this time. Cassie straightened up.

"Cassie, the facts are all there. I do not want to but...." He faltered.

"You are all are so dumb. You know I did not do this. Let's face it. I am too smart to leave such obvious clues. " She replied calmly as she slowly rose her hands in the air.

"Cassie, I can call it off-" Atticus started.

"No.-" She turned to the door, which remained shut. If she was going to go, she would do so dramatically. "I, Cassiopeia Haven, stand accused by Atticus Haven, my own brother, of murder. I am innocent, but if you must. I am told that I murdered Gabriel Snow."

The door swung open. A dozen police officers and a few SWAT agents filed through the door. The helicopter light shined in as the noise it made filled the room.

Anyone with a gun had it trained on Cassie, but she calmly stood with her hands above her head. Three officers aggressively put handcuffs on her. She turned to her brother.

"When I get out of jail I will help you solve this." The officers dragged her off. The officers filed out, followed by the agents. The last one looked up at Atticus, but with one glance at him, he knew he needed his space.

The usually stoic man was finding himself rather sad as he roamed the house. He opened the door to her room.

"In search of evidence." He has said. He looked around. Clothes and paper were scattered everywhere.  The sheets on the bed were a tangled mess. On her desk were three sketch books and an array of pencils strewed across them. How did she manage like this? So Messy, He thought. 

 He turned to the door when something caught his eye. A circle of clean on her dresser. There was nothing in that spot except, in the direct center, a picture frame.

"Cassie was never a sentimental person." He muttered to himself, walking closer to the halo of clean. He touched the photo.

Does Cassie escape jail? Probably. What happens when Atticus touches the photo? Lets be real, I do not know. Maybe you can decide. Just pick up where I left off and continue the story. Also, I'd like to know what happens next so please do tell me when it is published. Yay!!!!