A Cartoonist Always Draws Twice (Part Two)

Recap-A Local Cartoonist who makes his way to his friend’s art supply store to only to be surprised by a large explosion and out of the rumble he finds something even more disturbing. 

As the Cartoonist moved through the skeletal structure, the frightening image loomed over him like a scarecrow over a cornfield. Its blackened bones swayed like the body was still trying to live again. The figure was burnt and it was like a criminal hanging by the neck on the gallows. A man came behind him and startled him. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?! shouted the skinny yet tall man. The Cartoonist became flustered and was ready to protect himself from attack then he realized who the tall man was. He was a firefighter trying to clear the structure. “YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED IN THE AREA,” shouted the tall fireman. So, the Cartoonist left but before he can he realized a letter near the door. He then picked it up carefully and left the ruins. 

The area was red and orange with emergency crews. The Police had cornered off the whole block preventing anyone from contaminating the crime scene (besides me of course). The detective in charge looked at me with a wary eye. He probably got word from the skinny fireman about me. He approached me and asked me for some identification. I handed him my ID, he looked at it, studied it like he was about to take an exam. He gave it back and identified himself as Detective Thomas Rodgers. He was a short man, balding, about 50-pound overweight (all in the gut) but otherwise in decent shape.

He asked me “What are doing inside the crime scene?”. I told him that the owner was a friend of mine and I was hoping to find him. He said that in this mess you would not likely to find anything intact or alive. He then asked ” What did you see when you got here?” I told him about the spark, the fireball and that I saw the skeleton hanging from the beam but I left out the note. He didn’t say anything for about 5 minutes, then said I can leave, gave me his card, and told me that they would need later to a ask further questions.

I walked back to the bus stop, and then took my bus. As I sat down I had a major panic attack. What the hell did just happen? Was my friend dead? If not, who was the person hanging in the store? Do I need a lawyer? I have a feeling that all those questions weren’t going to be answered anytime soon. When I got home I took a shot of Jack and sat on my couch. I ordered some Chinese food and as I was reaching in my wallet to get some money for the food the paper from the scene dropped on the floor.

I opened it and it said something that made me wish I gave it to the detective. To Be Continued..

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