While my new clients were filling out the standard form of questions I give all new clients I paged through the journal they had given to me. It contained the last words of Theresa, their sixteen year old daughter, who killed herself. She was a secretive girl with no friends and her parents wanted to know why did herself in and hired me to find out.

Dad worked for the State Department and the family moved several times. Theresa had difficulty socializing but with a little time she made friends so the moves were never "too hard on her". She just received her driver's license and her parents just helped her buy a car the day she killed herself.

Her journal was almost all drawings throughout with very few words--basically no sentences, paragraphs, or grammatical structures to speak of, just words with an accompanying illustration next to them. Later she wrote more and drew less; her journal is concluded with a series of poems, and, apparently, the suicide note.

Several things caught my attention, but trying to enter the mind of a troubled teenaged gril is not something easily done especially by somebody such as myself.

The drawings were primarily of skinny naked girls and women. The degree of detail varied from hasty sketches to finely detailed final pieces. The faces and bodies were different for the most part, which suggests there was no model for the drawings, real or imagined. The poems were mostly bashful love poems, sometimes, though, they were straight up aggresive. The person to whom they are written, real or imagined, is never named.

The parents finished with the forms. I took the journal with me and met with Peter to give him the journal while I paid a visit to Theresa's principal in the hopes of getting to speak to the faculty and staff members. It took some work to get the principal's cooperation for some reason; he really seemed interested in avoiding trouble and the like.

I reread the police report while waiting for my next interview to arrive. I had lined up as many possible for the day since I needed to talk to as many people as soon as possible because memories start to fade very quickly and people do sometimes lie to the police - they, for some reason, try to be more helpful than they actually are. The more you ask a question, the more the lies become apparent as people forget what they said.

I explained, "the suicide note was brief."

you were a slice of Heaven now gone

Not a single staff or faculty memeber felt that Theresa was capable of maintaining a boyfriend (or a girlfriend). None of her classmates had died recently. The chances that she was writing to or about somebody outside her school seemed equally thin. One faculty member quipped, "that chick was scary." I raised my eyebrows as it had really caught my attention.

Peter called. He had removed the print out of the lyrics to the song an older song written from a stalker's perspective from the page and underneath in small handwritten script was a standard love charm spell. "Thanks, I'm going to have to call you back," I said, and hung up my cell phone.

Better not be.
My co-investigator and business partner is almost 40 years old.
With a child due in November. Happy Valentine's Day.

Theresa didn't leave her room after getting home from school. One of her poems mentions a place outside the city with some fresh air and beautiful trees. I checked her attendance record and there were some skips; I checked her disciplinary record and there were no detentions, suspensions, just a few demerits for tardiness.

I called Peter back. "So what do you make of the journal? The poems?" I asked him.

"I'd say that she was rendevouzing with somebody, probably in a park, nearby her school since she wasn't driving yet," he replied. "Maybe even with a teacher."

That's why I hired Peter, not for his psychic abilities but for his sharp intellect. I gave him some names. "Run full checks on these people for me, please."

"Sure, yea," he responded.

I called the principal back. "I'm probably gonna need to talk to your faculty again."

"About what?" he asked a little bit nervous.

"Just some follow up questions. It's nothing, really," I explained. He pushed back some more; so did I.

Except I won.

Off to the interviews and we have plenty of leg work to do.
Stay safe and try to regain some of your sanity in my absence.

Thanks, thanks.
Something in the back of my head keeps telling me it's the girl's fantasies.
But then one faculty member keeps saying things... stakeout mode.
I was expecting to start already, but things came up.
I'll check messages here and then head out with Peter.

Lucky?
Yes.

Good luck?
Not so much.

I had a run-in with some thugs that had a message.
Been released from the hospital and still got some hobbling around to do.

I may have bitten off more than I can chew. But now I got some Lazlo chums watching my back.

I'll keep these forums updated as well.

The night terrors are starting to hinder my ability to investigate.
I'm getting sleep deprived.
And it's getting worse.
Little white tracers dance around before my eyes.
The shadows contort themselves.
The noises rake my ear drums.

In my current investigation I have staked out a house of the guy I believe is responsible for driving young Theresa to commit suicide.
Then I had a visit from some thugs with a message that also left me hospitalized.
Then the nightmares and the pain arrived.
At the start, I could operate through the pain with only a Vicodin here and there to get comfortable.

Not anymore.
Now I can barely walk without doubling over in pain.

But I had unfinished business at that house.
So I went back.
Upon my approach I started gagging; I couldn't breathe.
I stumbled a bit as my legs went numb.
Then I fell on somebody's lawn clutching my stomach which felt like a knife had been jammed into it or as if I had swallowed large, sharp shards of glass.

I was wrything from the pain.
Somebody approached.
I heard, "Fucking druggies all over the place."
I tried to ask for help, but I only gargled on my own spit.
My backup arrived very soon after this and got me into the Emergency Room.
Without introducing himself the ER doctor whipped the curtain to the side and grilled me, "So, what kinda drugs were you using today?"

NONE.
I haven't had a drink or a smoke in nearly 30 years for gods' sake.

So now I'm scheduled for a battery of tests.
Peter can't handle the investigation all by himself.
Some Lazlo Society chums are gonna help out, somebody here might be asked for assistance, too.
I don't know.

What I would like to know is what poison was given to me and how.

Eilonwy Solstice wrote:I’m sorry to hear that, Sebastian. It sounds like somebody doesn’t want this case solved. If the test results come back inconclusive, do you have a backup plan in case? Yet you were lucid enough to type a response, so something must be going right . . .

I'd say you're absolutely correct.
Unfortunately there isn't much of a backup plan available.
I have a high tolerance for pain, and a full bottle of Vicodin.

No known poisons were discovered. It's a medical mystery.
Although I'm undergoing more tests still.
I won't be under my own schedule for at least another week.
In the meantime, nothing new on the case. It's gone totally cold.
Damn it!

Clarity, night terrors are nightmares: bad, scary dreams.
Are you still having your own?

Doctor Boggs wrote:You need any extra help up there Skeptic?

Possibly. You'll be the first to know.

Too late the image is already there. Hannah please tell me there is a picture of Ron with long hair that can be found?

All business up front but a party in the back!

Oh yeah!

Did he ever drive a Camero?

I don't see anything wrong with a mullet.

Or a Camero.

Michael T wrote:Skeptic I want to ask a question, I don't want you to feel I am belittleing you with it. I wonder if your hair was pulled out that you are aware of? From what I have read of your attack and the illness when you approched the house. There is a form of magic that can cause you to have syumptoms like this, and they can occur at any time the mage wants. If it has only happened once when you went to the house maybe they are content to just run you off.

Again just an opinon that you may not belive.

Michael T.

I believe it's your opinion.
Sorry, that's the pain meds taking over.
I'm sure that I had been poisoned. Not voodoo'd.

I have however been laid up for a few weeks, sick as a dog.
I've barely had the strength to do the prep work on a UFO Abduction case.
I hope to get to that in the next week or so as I recover from idiopathic pneumonia.

And as an update to this case: The police have taken over the investigation.