Year 2018
Date December 17th

“Miss Villarreal, Assistant Sour is here to see you,” said my home robot, Fred, in his robotic type voice. He stands at two feet tall, and has bright neon green eyes that if you stare at too long you see spots. He reminds me of that Disney Pixar character Wall-E, but Fred is made out of a titanium alloy that is impenetrable.
Fred left my room in no hurry just like how he entered. My mother and father have already left for work. They work for the alien governor of New York; which happens to be the state I live in. I rolled off my bed and onto the floor. The wood didn’t welcome me with open arms. I stood up and touched the touch screen wall.
“Open the front door for Mr. Sour,” I said out loud to the wall.
“As you wish, Miss Villarreal,” said the home computer. I heard the front door unlock. I pulled up the camera for the living room that I installed when I became an FBI Agent. I also installed microphones, that are so itty-bitty that you will never know where they are, and speakers that only work for me.
“Computer turn on the speaker for the living room,” I say to the wall. My room is sound proof so if you’re in the next room and my music is blasting you can’t hear it. I heard the chime that indicates that the speaker has been turned on. My parents happen to be rich so when I was five and got lost in the house they put these color coded lights under the wooden floor so I knew which way lead where. The green one takes you to my room.
“Follow the green lights on the floor Mr. Sour.” He jumped at the sound of my voice, but followed the green lights that blink every five seconds. I watched him walk down the hall and up to my bedroom door. He knocked on the door. “Open it.” I turned off the speakers and cameras before the door was fully opened.
“Hello,” I say with my back turned to him.
“And the same to you, Agent Villarreal,” he said in the most monotone voice I have ever heard.
“Are you here to bring me more work?” I ask while turning toward him, but he wasn’t anywhere in the room. I heard the front door slam. He left, but he left me an envelope that sat on my bed. I sat in my desk chair, which had no purpose anymore, and spun my way to the bed. I picked up the envelope and opened it.
The letter read:
Dear Agent Kristine Villarreal,

The FBI has just gotten news that there has been a murder in the state of New York. It has been six years since our last murder case. The police detectives and any other type of crime unit went out of business four years ago. The state of New York has no choice but to assign the case to the FBI. You have been chosen to be the lead investigator. Other agents will be sent to you in an hour at the FBI headquarters in Manhattan. Please no mind tricks on them. Solve this crime for the state of New York.

Sincerely,
Head FBI Agent Myka Shock

What a fabulous way of starting off the week, I thought. I grabbed my coat and scarf from the hall closet, and headed out the door. “Lock up,” I say as I close the door. When I stepped out into the cold evening air I realize it’s been weeks since I stepped outside our town house. Sure I crack open a window now and then, but I haven’t been outside. There’s snow on the ground, but it isn’t snowing at the moment. I want to sit in the snow or do something an ordinary teenager would do, but most teenagers are in school today. I sighed at my lame attempt at being ordinary. I decide to walk the twelve blocks to the Manhattan FBI head quarters. It’s one of the newest buildings.
There’s a cop riding his horse across the street, but I don’t take into account that he is staring at me. The cop rides his horse to the other side of the street and comes up beside me.
“How old are you, ma’am?” he asks me.
“Old enough to walk the streets of New York by myself,” I say to him, but I keep walking when he pulls his horse to a stop. I hear his feet hit the snow and race to keep up with me. I ignore him when he tries to get my attention. He grabs my arm to make me face him. I pull my badge out of my coat, and order him to let go. He slowly releases me. I tilt my head toward the park.
“What’s your name officer?” I ask.
“Officer Miller,” he says.
“Well, Officer Miller, if you must know how old I am I’m sixteen,” I say to him. I just want him to let me walk to work, but he gasps when he hears my age.
“What’s your name?” he asks. He sure does ask a lot of questions for a park cop. It’s Monday so there aren’t a lot of people roaming the park. I’m not sure how cold it is, but by an estimate I would say below thirty degrees. There’s not a lot to see in Central Park other than the dog statue, Balto, and the Central Park Zoo.
I say, “Kristine, Kristine Villarreal.”
“Are you Hispanic, Miss Villarreal?” he asks. He stares straight into my sea foam colored eyes like they are going to give him an answer.
I say through gritted teeth, “It is none of your concern, Officer Miller.”
We chat for a few more minutes until I say I’m in a hurry and need to be on my merry way. He insists he walk me where I need to be, but I have a bad feeling about him and deny his generous offer. I leave him at the Balto statue. As soon as I was outside the park I was in front of FBI headquarters. I walk inside, flash my badge, go to my office, and then wait for everyone to get there. But, while I wait I fall asleep, and time sure does fly by.
“Why is there an intern in Miss Villarreal’s office chair?” I heard a woman say in a high pitch voice.
A man responds to her in a casual tone, “What are you talking about?—Oh I see. Who is this?”
“Lissa believes she’s Miss Villarreal’s secretary,” said another man with a bass voice. I have never heard these voices before. So who are they?
“But, who the hell does she think she is?” says the first woman again. I decide to sit up. I yawned loudly so they would know the lion has awoken. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and stared at them. They stared right back.
“What are—?” I started to ask.
“Who are you?” asks the first woman.
“Who am I? Who are you, my dear? And, who are these fellows with you?” I ask her punctually. I thought about the letter, and remembered I’m not allowed to play mind games. “My name is…” Once again I am cut off.
“I’m Agent Silvia Sandron,” the woman said so highly of herself. I take in her appearance; she has light caramel hair that is super curly, hazel eyes, and bright red lips that you would think suck blood. She is an alien. Her skin color is a light shade of green which makes me think of vomit. One of the men clears his throat.
“Hi, my name is Agent Chrystopher Cooper,” he says. He waves at me, and I just stare. He’s human, and looks like the average school jock that has blonde hair that touches the tips of his ear, light blue eyes, and looks like he might be eighteen years of age.
I turn to the next man when I feel like someone is breathing on me. I turn to my left, and find a young girl staring at me. I practically jump out of my chair screaming.
“She’s a mute ma’am,” said the other man, “Her name is Lissa White. And, I am Agent Walter Sity.” He looked to be about thirty and was going bald. He is an alien, also, and had Mac & Cheese colored skin. The girl on the other hand is human with gray eyes and jet black hair.
“So you know our names, but what is yours?” asked Silvia rudely.
“FBI Agent Kristine Villarreal,” I said glancing at each of their faces. Their expressions were priceless. They were practically plastered on their faces.
Chrystopher stammered for a response, but came up with nothing. I hate wasting time. I slide my chair away from Mute Mouth, and headed for the door when I heard Walter murmur, “She’s a kid.” I kept walking until I got to the conference room. I hesitated for a millisecond, but opened it to find new equipment and not a meeting. The room was already set up for an investigation, but it was a matter of knowing what we were doing. When I turned and saw the look on their faces I knew they were as clueless as me.
I scanned all the papers, and I knew everything there was about the case. Michelle River was in the city for a business meeting. When she didn’t show up for the meeting her employees got worried and reported her missing. Her body was found floating in the Hudson River by a Cab Ferry. Not going to go into gory details as to how she died. I flipped through the list of officers that were at the crime scene and only one jumped out at me. Officer Miller. He never mentioned anything, but he doesn’t even know I’m on the case. I turned to find my team barely looking at the case.
“Don’t you all have photographic memory?” I asked them annoyed. The aliens relied yes, but the humans claimed no. I sighed heavily. I set down the rules they have to follow, but the basic one was that when it comes to an interrogation that I have to be their last resort. I put them in pairs and sent them out to talk to her employees that came to the city with her.
Once they were gone I went down to the morgue to look at her body. The picture of her showed she had pale blue eyes, but I wanted to see them myself. I walked around her body and took into account that she had luscious brown hair that fell at her shoulder like mine. She was gorgeous. So why would anybody in their right mind want to kill her?
An hour later I was back in my office. I had paper scattered all over the floor. I was tacking something on the wall when my phone rang. I stabbed my thumb with the tack. I dashed for the phone when it got the last ring.
“Hello,” I said into the receiver.
“Agent Villarreal, there has been another dead body. Your team members have already been informed. They will be at the World Trade Center,” said a male voice.
“Thank you,” I said and hung up. I can’t drive so I ran the few blocks to the WTC. When I got there they had already bagged the body. Agent Cooper gave me the insight on what happened.
He said, “A bystander saw Lily World leaning against the wall, and had blood on her shirt. She grabbed Ms. World. When she didn’t respond she took a pulse, but there wasn’t one. She was reported missing. Ms. World was here for a business meeting just like Ms. River.”
I nodded and walked toward the body bag. I unzipped it to see her face. She had luscious brown hair and pale blue eyes. I got a feeling this was a serial killer we were working with. We all headed back to the office. Once we were in the conference room I pulled out my portable touch screen computer. It’s small, but once the room was scanned it gathered everything about the case. I stuck it to the wall, and the wall became touch screen. I pulled up both photos of the victims.
“We are dealing with a serial killer,” I said loudly. They were sitting down so they could hear my speech, but mostly so they could be amazed by the wall. “Both our victims had brown hair, pale blue eyes, and were on a business trip. Do you think it’s a coincidence? I hope not. What did Ms. River’s employees say?”
Silvia was the one who responded, “They all claim that she told them she was going to tour the city for the day, and would see them at the meeting the following day.”
“Have any of you found out if Ms. World came with anybody else?” I asked hurriedly.
“She came with a business partner, and he came to the scene of the crime to confirm it was her. He said she was going to walk around the city for a few hours, but never showed up for dinner that night. He assumed she was still out, but that following morning she wasn’t in her suite. That’s when he reported her missing,” said Agent Sity.
I pulled up the list of cops that were at this crime scene. “Check if Officer Miller was at the scene of the crime,” I said to the computer.
“Yes, Officer Miller was one of the first cops to arrive, Miss Villarreal,” said the computer. Just thinking about him made my skin crawl, but I couldn’t show my curiosity to my team members.
“Check both, Ms. World’s and Ms. River’s, clothing for finger prints Agent White.” She got up from her seat in a flash and was out the door in a heartbeat. I released them to go home, but to be ready to be called at any moment.

Date December 18th

“Miss Villarreal, there is a phone call for you,” said Fred. I grabbed the phone from him.
“Hello, this is Agent Villarreal,” I said trying to wake up as much as possible.
“Hi, it’s Chrystopher, there’s been another murder. Meet us in Central Park,” he said in a whisper as if he were sneaking out of the house, but had to call me so I was awake. I hung up the phone. I dressed quickly, and headed out the door. My parents never came home last night so I wasn’t worried about waking them when I slammed the front door.
I ran toward the park in the snow. I live three blocks away and I was probably the last one informed like last time. I was the first of the team to arrive, though. One of the officers saw me and was about to shield the body when I flashed my badge. Agent Cooper arrived a few minutes later. They bagged the body as I examined her. She was like the others. She had pale blue eyes and luscious brown hair.
“What’s her name?” I asked one of the cops. He gave me the baggie that had the stuff from her pockets. There was a map of the city so I knew right away she was touring the city. I pulled out her wallet. Her name is Melanie Park. I noticed Officer Miller slip into the darkness when I about to ask a cop for the list of who was here. Silvia and Walter were busy calling the people from her phone.
I strolled up to Silvia and Agent Sity. They said that she was here on a business matter and was having a private meeting with someone tonight. An hour later someone reported her missing.
“We need to go back to the office,” I said to everyone. They nodded in approval. When we got to the office Agent White was pacing the conference room. She wrote down what she found. A pair of finger prints was found on their purses, and they were alike.
“Put those prints into the city finger scanner and find out whose prints those are,” I said frustrated. I can’t believe this was the third woman. Agent White came back into the room and held out a copy of whose prints these were.
Agent Sity took the papers from her. “His name is James Bone. What a fabulous name that is,” He said with dark sarcasm. I snatched the papers from him and looked at the photo. I knew it!
“He lied to me. I knew it was him,” I said out loud.
“Who?” Chrystopher asked.
I scanned the picture and pulled up Officer Miller’s photo as well. Both pictures were right next to each other. They all gasped in shock.
“This James Bone person is the same person posing as Officer James Miller,” I said with satisfaction.
We called the police station asked where Officer James Miller was at. The Caption said he had resigned this morning after the incident in the park. I asked him where Mr. Miller’s home address was. He was hesitant about giving it to us, but once I said I was FBI he had no choice.
“Is he in some sort of trouble, Agent Villarreal?” the Captain asked.
“He’s the serial killer we have been after,” I said as I hung up. We headed to 23rd Street. James Bone was sitting outside his apartment building smoking. I walked past him casually.
“You know smoking is bad for you,” I said with a smirk.
“Yes, I know this, Miss Villarreal,” he said with smoke pouring out of his mouth. “Please sit,” he said and patted the step he was sitting on.
“Actually I can’t stay long,” I said looking up the street toward Agent Sity and Agent White. They came jogging toward us. “Please stand, Mr. Bone.”
“How—how do you know my real name?” he asked.
“Put your hands behind your back, James Bone, you are under arrest for the murder of Michelle River, Lily World, and Melanie Park. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the new court of law. You have no right to an attorney, and the court won’t be appointing one to you,” I said with a smile.
Silvia came up behind me and handcuffed Mr. Bone. That was the last I saw of him other than in court when he was prosecuted.

Date December 20th

“There’s a letter for you, Miss Villarreal,” Fred said.
It read:
Dear Agent Kristine Villarreal,

Say good-bye to your desk work for the FBI. You are now in charge of our new Crime Unit. I hear there’s been a murder in Texas. Good Luck.

Sincerely,
Head FBI Agent Myka Shock