Chapter 3. Abigail woke up ready for an argument. She sat quietly in her bed, remembering the

points that she had organized in her mind the night before. The Beach Nutt Street Detective

Agency would not go down without a fight. No question about it. Abigail was ready. She dressed

quickly and ran a brush through her hair, enough to calm it down for the casual

observer without really taking the time to address some of the more serious tangles.

She took the stairs two at a time and landed in the hall outside the kitchen ready for anything.

Except all that she saw was her father's back, seated at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal.

"'Good morning, sweetheart,' he said, reading the newspaper which was carefully folded on the table in front of him.

"'Mourning, Daddy,' she said slightly confused.

Her mother could not possibly still be in the shower, not at this hour, but there was no sign of her anywhere.

Abigail felt a bit like her entrance had been spoiled and wondered if it would be too obvious to go

back upstairs and come in again when she heard her mother's voice. She stood quietly for a moment,

not knowing quite what to do with herself.

Her father said nothing, and seemed to be finishing up what he was reading.

Abigail could tell that he was trying to finish quickly before he was interrupted,

because he leaned forward slightly as if being closer to the words would help him read all of them faster.

She turned and walked down the front hall and opened the door.

Abigail popped her head out and confirmed her suspicions. The car was already gone.

"'Where's mom?' Abigail asked as she returned to the kitchen. Her father had now put the paper away

and seemed to be waiting for her. What she disguised by casually fishing for the last bits of cereal floating in his milk?

She had to go into work early, her father replied.

She got a text last night.

...