Chapter 2!

             Well, this isn't going quite how I'd planned and I would definitely not say it was my favorite story I ever wrote, since it's my first mystery I haven't figured out how to do suspense and all that fun stuff so sorry!! But thank y'all for hanging in there with me :) I had planned on it being long but since I am about to leave for camp I'm only going to do one more chapter.   



                          Chapter 2

The morning was crisp and refreshing with the whistles and calls of the birds still haunted the branches of the trees. J.D thrust open his front door and hurried out, not even taking a peek at the beautiful, blue, autumn sky. His thoughts were at a little shack near Glade River. 
He walked through town and caught a cab without even lifting his chin from his chest once, so occupied was his mind on something else he didn’t even return, or in fact hear, the cab driver’s friendly greeting. His fingers fidgeted with the note which contained the address of his destination.
Before a half hour had passed he found himself standing in front of the forlorn place. He felt certain it had seen better days, but his quick eyes did notice that the walls seemed to be in much better condition than all other parts of the shack. His brisk knock brought a rapid answer, “Well good morning sir, I didn’t expect to see ya so soon,” said Bill, clearing his throat. “Well I have a few questions which I want to put to you and I wanted to inspect the house myself, I couldn’t quite develop a satisfactory picture in my mind,” replied J.D. “Oh, well won’t you come on in? Ain’t nothin grand but it’s comfortable enough.” “Thank you but first I believe I’d like to look about the outside a bit,” J.D turned and began to circle around the shack.
His eyes examined everything carefully though nothing particularly stood out. The roof was saggy and rusty. The windows were all busted, the paint on the walls was a sickly shade of green, and the chimney, true to Bill’s description, was crumbling, red stone. Soft weeping willows surrounded it adding a nice touch, but it wasn’t enough to  cover up the destitute atmosphere of the whole place.  J.D. placed his ear against one of the side walls and tapped the wall with his hand. A look of surprise spread across his face. He walked to the opposite side of the house and repeated the same procedure again. Then again on the back wall, this time his eyebrows furrowed. He then walked to a section of the back of the house which looked a bit newer than the rest and stuck out as if it had been added on, a peek inside the window proved that this was the restroom. J.D. once again put his head to the wall of this section and knocked, then nodded his head confidently.
J.D. returned to Bill and followed him into the shack, which contained an old mattress, a bureau, a sink, a stove, a table with two stools, and a door which one could only assume led to the restroom. The floor was just dirt. There was no ceiling just the bottom of the metal roof. “What was it you was a wantin to know?” questioned Bill, “Well first of all, do you know how old your home is?” “No sir I don’t, I’d reckon its seen a good many years though,” “Alright,” continued J.D, “Well, do you know if the restroom was added to the house later?” “Yes sir, I remember the fella I bought it from sayin something about that.” “Ok, and that leads me to my next question, do you remember the name of the man you bought the shack from?” “Oh yes, his name was Allan McCormick he was a nice man, sold me this shack for right cheap too.” “Excellent, do you remember where he lives now?” “Well now, let me think, I know it’s somewhere around London, I couldn’t tell ya the street name though,” said Bill, shaking his head. “Well that’s alright, you’ve been exceptionally helpful, I believe that’s all my questions, but remember, if the man wanting to buy it returns, absolutely no deals or promises,” stated J.D . firmly. “Oh no sir o’ course not. Thank ya sir! And uh about how much longer ya think? I mean ‘Till you know what’s goin on?” “It shouldn’t be long, Mr. Hoffman.” assured J.D. ducking out of the door way.
“Miss Drake! I need the address of a Mr, Allan McCormick as soon as possible,” J.D. loudly announced as he rushed off the busy streets into his own home. “As quick as I can sir,” replied Miss Drake, who was quite accustomed to being hollered at by J.D and knew to never take it personally.