Today Georgie and I had a job to do. So after school, instead of walking straight home, we turned left on Willow Street to go to the police station.

When we pushed open the door, we saw how big the station really was. A big, burly man was sitting at the desk nearest the door.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"Yes. Actually, we're here to report a murder. Correction, four murders."

The man looked shocked.
"Did you say four murders?"

"Yes, sir." I took a deep breath. "We have proof."

"Good Lord, show me," he said, his face pale. He got out of his seat so he could see better.

"Look." We showed him the printouts of the computer information and explained our suspicions.

"You mean you don't have any actual evidence?" he said at the end. "Just 'we suspect this...' and a couple pictures of people in a family?" He looked almost disappointed. But then he changed his tone.

"I will have you girls know that teenage pranks are not tolerated here."

"But we're not-"

He didn't let us finish.
"Have a nice day, girls. Come back with a real emergency and some evidence next time."

With that, he pushed us outside and shut the door.

⭐⭐⭐

When Georgie and I got home, we decided that if the police wouldn't help us, we would have to take matters into our own hands.
So that's exactly what we did.

When I got home, I found out everything I could about the family. Mrs. Doyle and Mr. Greene got married when she was 32 and he was 35, but they divorced when she was 40 and he was 43.

They had a daughter near the end of the marriage, but rumor has it that she mysteriously disappeared when she was 8, and that's why the two divorced.

No one ever found out what happened to their daughter. Some say that she ran away when she saw how much her parents argued, and couldn't take it anymore. Others even suspect that she was murdered by her own mother.

Whatever it was, I knew, somehow, that it was related to our case.