Detective Esther Nelson woke with a start, her phone loudly chirping on her night table. She uttered a few derogatory things about people calling so early. Her soft, black and white cat, Sauncey, looked at the phone and began hissing, irritated about being stirred from her slumber. Esther looked at the name of the caller. It was Inspector Thomas Hewitt. Uh oh, she thought, what happened now? “Hello there, Sir. What are you calling me about at this time in the morning?” she asked, cheerily as she could at 6:30. “I need you to come to the middle school. There’s a body, and I just know it’s murder. It’s not really at the middle school, but it’s pretty close. I need you here in thirty. Get down here ASAP.” Esther sighed, but bucked up and said, “Will do, Inspector. Give me some time to change, and I’ll be on my way. Over and out” she said, and then hung up. She groaned, and left the warm safety of her bed. It’s mornings like this she envies the plush kitten curled up on her bed. She walked over to her large, wooden wardrobe and looked through it’s contents. She pulled out a blue pinstripe skirted suit and a pair of navy pumps. She changed, and then went to her bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. She had thick, raven, wavy hair, and gray, blue flecked eyes. Her skin was very pale, (which was a little unusual for an outdoorsy Southern girl in an almost always sunny town). Thankfully, her skin was always unblemished. She was 5’7”, and was usually complemented on her long legs. She was thin, and thanked her mother for her traits everyday. Her father wasn’t exactly handsome, with gangly limbs and frizzy blonde hair. But he was extremely charming, so he quickly captured her mother’s heart. They had four daughters, including Esther. She was the youngest at 22, but the only one not engaged or married. Her oldest sister, Delilah, was 30, and married with two boys. They were both five years old, going on six. Next was Tallulah, age 27, who got married last year and recently found out she was pregnant. The next to youngest was Blythe, age 24, who just got engaged to her high school sweetheart. They had all taken after their mother, who had just moved with their father to the retirement capital of the world, Florida. Esther brushed her hair and put on a plain, dark black headband to match her hair. She ran down the hall, stopping briefly to get her knock-off Gucci purse, and then ran out the door, quickly turning to lock up. She drove to the scene of the crime, the sounds of sirens guiding her. She pulled to the side of the road, and looked out. The scene was filled with police, forensic specialists, and coroners. She spotted the Inspector, and walked to him. Inspector Jonathan Mays Hewitt was 23, and had scruffy brown hair and blue eyes with gold flecks, and stood at 6’2”. John and Esther had been friends since childhood, and their friendship had never withered, like a kudzu vine in the forest. They had gone to the same elementary, middle, and high school. Both were also accepted into the same police academy, but they went into different fields of expertise. “Who is the victim?” she asked. John looked at her, his face grim. “The victim’s name is Terry Miller, age 22.” Esther’s eyes widened. “What?!” Her throat closed up. She knew the dame. They were cousins.