I've got to get this story, Jimmy thought. Earlier in the day, Jimmy never would have expected that he'd be so interested in obtaining simple gossip about a crime.

   At 5'8, 28 years old, with dark brown silky smooth hair, piercing blue eyes and a thin frame with an ambitious attitude, Jim Ruthford was like any other average man. He'd lived rather quietly and alone for much of his life, ever since he left Chicago, after graduating from Columbia University with a degree in journalism. His tended to keep to himself romantically, choosing not to actively date. It's not that he didn't want that special someone, but that his career has always taken more than he could give while in a relationship.

   Jimmy's parents, Beth and Donnie Ruthford, were so proud the day he walked the stage and got his degree. Leaving them back in New York was one of the hardest decisions he'd made, but it felt nice to see his decisions and all those days having fun on campus but being homesick having been paid off.

   Now living in Beachport Chicago in a small but homely apartment right near Keighley Lake (where he fished a lot of his time), Jimmy worked for Turner Publishing, as the top journalist and editor in the building. People treated him with respect and dignity, and wouldn't dare to antagonize him. His job was taxing and took a lot out of him, but it was all worth it.

Asking questions at the crime scene could provide Jimmy with inexplicable detail about that had transpired. After pondering the implications of asking a witness without any legal jurisdiction, he decided to advance.

Looking around, he began to slowly piece the crime scene details together. A couple must have been arguing, and it appeared that the man went crazy and murdered the woman.

Jimmy approached a young man, no younger than 25, based on his looks.

"Hi, i'm Jimmy Ruthford. I work at Turner Publishing, and I was assigned to obtain information on this crime. Could you please tell me anything you witnessed? The more information the better." Jimmy stated to the visibly shaken man.

"I'm Mark Snidread. The people in question are Jason Black and Angela Whinestone. I didn't explicitly see what transpired, but I heard enough.

"I was just getting home from classes at SUNY - my college. Jason and Angela have been a couple for years now - and I've been their friend ever since I moved into this neighborhood. Jason has a short temper, but their relationship has never been abusive from what I know. I was just getting in when I heard them arguing, so I stood and listened. It was none of my business, but I was curious. I heard Angela exclaim "How dare you" then I heard a scream."

As Mark spoke, Jimmy struggled to write down every detail of what he heard. This man really knows his stuff Jimmy thought. I didn't expect to get this much out of one person.

"I figured i'd wait until the fighting ceased, and then go over there to make sure everything was okay. 5 minutes later, as I went to walk over to their house, I saw Angela's body laying behind the bushes. I can still see her scared expression, the blood on her dress..." Mark trailed off, trembling. The expression in his eyes read like he was paralyzed in fear, like a rabbit in headlights.

That's terrible, Jimmy thought. I wouldn't wish my worst enemy to go through seeing that.

"Mark, i'm so sorry. I can't imagine seeing something like that. I appreciate the information immensely. Talk to the police about this. I believe they're going to start seeking witnesses. Tell them exactly what you told me and remember that it's not your fault. From what I've heard, Jason has a serious anger problem." Jimmy responded, feeling confident. "Of course

Jimmy observed him clearly before walking away. His posture, slumped and lazy, mixed with his electric blue eyes and jet black hair, all contributed to portray a man with with young features who looked sophisticated but worn out upon first glance.

Walking back and into his truck, Jimmy caught a glimpse of Jason being escorted by there police. Dark brown curly hair, a muscular physique, and a troubled expression on his face stuck out the most. Blood was still on his button up shirt and jeans, presumably Angela's.

"Hmm. So Jason and Angela are couple who fought over something, and Jason went crazy and killed her." Jimmy said aloud, writing details into his work journal. Still, I don't have enough details, he thought, but at least I have a good place to start.