"Ghosts are real," I confirmed.

"And Kaylyn didn't leave one?" Jack asked, reeling from revelation. I nodded, letting my lips press into a thin line. "What does that mean?"

"I don't fucking know! That's what I'm trying to figure out!" I was shouting now, frustration coloring my voice.

"I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do," Jack said, suddenly all for my pseudo investigation.

"I guess we eat something and then. . . ask around? We can't go back to the scene of the crime, and there weren't any ghosts about when it happened. Maybe we can find a motive? Look around for people that died recently that might have a grudge?" I wasn't sure how a regular investigation went, let alone one where there could be no evidence except for the crime itself.

Jack took a deep breath. "Okay, let's pick up some doughnuts before going to the apartment and asking the ghosts what happened. Maybe we can get one to describe the crime scene?"

"That might work. It really depends on who we can find close by," I told him.

"Sure. Get in the car, we've got shit to do," Jack demanded.

"Thank you!" yelled back to the ghost that had helped me prove his existence, waving on my way to the passenger side of Jack's car. "Why not just eat here, we're already here."

"It'll take too long, I can pick up a dozen old fashioned doughnuts in a few minutes and we can eat them as we work. The first forty eight hours are the most important," he reasoned when I got in the car. He turned the key and ripped out of the parking lot, recklessly speeding down the road.

"Okay," I said. I guess it made as much sense as anything else.

We pulled into a doughnut shop, some shack labeled "Morning Sunshine!" Jack walked in and grabbed a box of doughnuts and payed while I sat in the car. He was right, it was fast.

We made it to the apartment in record time, pulling into the parking lot and into the spot directly next to my car. There were still cop cars outside, a few still housing policemen. We exited the car, looking about. I wasn't sure what Jack was looking for, but I was looking for someone who could help me. I opened the box of doughnuts and took one out, biting down as I saw a misty figure wearing an old police uniform standing just outside the building.

I rushed over, pulling my phone up to my ear to conceal the fact that I was about to talk to someone no one else could see. "Hey," I said, staring right at the dead cop. He ignored me, looking up at the building and studying the glass doors. "Hey, I can see you. I need your help, I'm not actually talking on the phone."

He looked at me, considering something as Jack finally caught up with his own doughnut in hand. "Are you talking to one?"

"I'm trying to, he doesn't seem to understand that I can see him," I said quietly. "I need to know about that crime scene in there, anything odd that doesn't fit," I said louder, turning back towards the ghost with a phone to my ear making my hand heavy.

"Oh, I heard that there was someone close that could see us. It's an interesting ability, do you know how you got it?" he asked. It didn't really seem to matter to him, curiosity having already killed this cat.

"Just born with it. My parents don't even believe me, which is probably for the best. The crime scene? My friend was the victim and she didn't leave a ghost," I explained.

"Yeah, I noticed that. I came in to try and help whatever victims there were cope, because after murders a lot of ghosts loose themselves and go mad. Especially when it's as brutal as this was. I strode in to find her, and saw the body, saw the room, covered in blood. I've seen quite a few murders in my time, and this wasn't a regular murder. The wounds weren't right. If it was a knife or something it would have stabbed in and out in a clean cut or slash, and the blood splatters would reflect that, but this wasn't anything sharp and it didn't go in before coming back out. It almost looks like a metal marble had been ripped out of her by a powerful magnet. That's what it looks like, the blood kind of exploded everywhere. The eyes were odd too. I've seen burned out eyes, scooped out eyes, popped eyes, but this wasn't like any of those either. It's like the fire started inside of her eye sockets and burned them until they didn't exist anymore. It didn't look like anyone had come in either, the window was closed and there was enough dust to prove no one had been in, and the only footsteps were obviously from the cops. You could tell nothing had been touched in the room. In fact, it looked like they hadn't even touched her, there seemed like there were no signs of struggle, on the body or the room. It's like it happened on it's own," the cop explained. I was sick again, and my hand holding the phone was shaking.

I held up a finger and stumbled over to some bushes to say hello to the doughnut I had just finished. The force of vomiting made me dizzy again and I leaned against the building for a moment.

"Can I tell you what my theory is?" I asked the ghost, though I didn't look at him I was sure he'd understand.

"Sure," Jack and the ghost said at the same time.

"Jack, you already know this, but I think this was a ghost. If I was born able to see dead people, maybe someone died and got the ability to. . . kill people? I don't know, I haven't gotten that far yet, but you've told me helps," I said slowly, letting the building support my newfound weakness as I thought through the situation, even as I tried to push the thoughts away.

"Do you really think that's possible?" asked the cop.

"I don't know what's possible, but we're talking so we can't rule anything out."

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"So, what do we do? Did he confirm it?" Jack asked, trying to gaze around and see the ghost to be part of the conversation.

"What he said makes it seem like I was right. Now what we're missing is motive, method, and which ghost it was specifically. So essentially, we have found nothing." I sighed, closing my eyes and resting my chin on my chest.

"Not necessarily. Her ghost is gone, right? What if the motive was to get her ghost?" Jack asked.

"But then why? Did he just need any soul? That didn't make any sense, there were easier options than Kaylyn close by. Hell, he had to go up two flights of stairs just to get to her and he walked past multiple apartments. Was it hair color? Eye color? Maybe a height thing? I don't know, we don't know anything!" As I talked I got louder and more frustrated, finishing the sentence far louder than I had intended.

"Eyes could make sense. They were burned out. Can you remember her eye color?" asked the dead cop.

"I don't know, Jack, you've painted all of us before, can you remember Kaylyn's eye color?" I felt like a terrible person. I didn't even have the decency to remember her eye color. "I'm not a very good friend," I said under my breath.

No one heard me, but Jack said "they were green, like a green apple just after being washed." Of course he would know the exact shade of her eyes, it was probably a normal thing for people to notice. I looked up, meeting Jacks eyes and studying their color. Brown eyes, dark to the point where it's almost hard to tell the difference between the iris and the pupil, the hickory coloring almost blending in before abruptly cutting to white in high contrast.

"Green? That's not very common, you could have a motive there," said the ghost. "Maybe he hates green eyes, or he's jealous of them."

"Maybe, but I think I heard the cops mention that this wasn't the first one they had found like this. Do you know anything about that?"

"No, I haven't been listening to the police talking. I was just out here confused when you showed up, trying to think of an explanation," explained the ghost. He shrugged. "I've only been here for a day. I usually just wander the U.S. trying to find people who need help transitioning."

"Alright. Are you going to be here much longer?" I asked.

"Yes. I'll stay here and listen. If I find anything I'll let you know next time you're here. I took an oath to serve and protect and that doesn't go away just because I died. I haven't been able to do anything, but now I have that chance, the chance to help someone, and by god I'm going to take it," he said. "And I'm officer Bailey, by the way." He held his hand out to shake.

"I don't have a title, so I'm just Conrad," I said, grasping his hand. My hand went straight through and closed on nothing. I mimed shaking his hand but it was awkward. He moved faster than I did and his hand just floated in a cloud with my hand moving uncomfortably through it. Luckily I was the only person that could see this monstrosity of a handshake and I could just pretend it was normal.

"And I'm Jack the Avenger," Jack spoke up.

"Don't give yourself a title, it's just sad," I told him, turning my head over my shoulder.

"It's badass!" Jack exclaimed.

"It's just sad. You sound like a middle schooler," said officer Bailey.

"Damn, that's a burn. He said you sound like a middle schooler," I relayed to Jack.

"Hey!" Jack feigned offense be he clearly didn't have a problem with it.

I waved him off and turned back to officer Bailey. "Thank you, we really appreciate it."

"I was willing to risk my life to help people, now if I have to I'll risk my soul to help people if that's what it takes. I'll keep my eyes and ears open, good luck on the rest of your investigation," he said solemnly. He walked into the building without another word, not even waiting for us to respond.

"Okay, so he didn't have anything but he did agree to let us know if he found anything. He's listening in on the police officers now, so we should go ask other ghosts about that night. Maybe they saw someone walk in late that night," I said to Jack.

"Alright. What kind of questions do we ask?" he responded.

I wasn't sure. "Grandpa Sunny!" I exclaimed when I noticed the bald old man with the long white beard perpetually stuck in a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. At least the sunglasses looked good on him.

"Conrad! I was wondering what had happened. I came over this morning to someone dead! Their ghost had already left though," he said as silver mist trailed behind him. I ran over to him, getting closer before coming to a halt.

"Why weren't you there yesterday? You usually stay to make sure none of the other ghosts wake me up on the weekends. I know I kept telling you it was unnecessary, but it would have been nice to have you," I told him. The fact that I had at least seen in passing some of the ghosts that tended to be in my apartment on a regular basis made the fact that it was so empty even more strange.

"I. . . Why I have no idea my boy. I was on my way, and then when I got close I wasn't on my way anymore. I hadn't even realized I'd changed directions, but I had no desire to turn back. A little odd considering I was going away from one of my favorite grandkids," he said.

"You don't have any grandkids," I reminded him.

"Everyone with a good hear is my grandkid, and that's all that matters," he stated sagely.

"Do you remember anything else odd about that night?" I asked, grasping for straws.

"Why yes. I do think I was whistling. I don't whistle very often, and never do I find myself walking and then whistling without realizing it." Something tickled my brain, but I wasn't sure what.

"Anything else? You didn't see anyone go into the building?" I asked.

"No, no one into the building. In fact, I didn't see much of your apartment building at all that night, it's like it's covered in oil. Whenever I try to remember your apartment that night it just slips from my mind. . ." A concerned look crossed his face as realization set in.

"This wasn't a normal occurrence, was it? I'm surprised I didn't notice it sooner! My boy, something is not right, and I don't know how to help you. Luckily, you have the power of knowledge. Someone in the history of everything has to know something about this, and luckily, you have the power to ask them about it. Even if no one knows who this was, someone can help you find them, I guarantee it. I'll keep my mind sharp and ready for such happenings, but I can't promise I'll experience anything like it again. You'll be the first person to know if it does," he said. It was a bit of a pseudo lecture, but the hype aspects and the reassurances made me feel confidant I could take on the world.

For about seven seconds. "What were you whistling?" I asked, the thing tickling my brain finally coming to the forefront.

"It was a sorrowful tune, filled with passion. But it's not something I would have liked to whistle. It seemed very angry, you see. As if it were blaming the world for something. If a song has to be sorrowful I prefer it to be forgiving," the old man said, his crooked nose receiving two taps from his index finger as he gazed at me over the dark sunglasses he had stuck to his face. "It's a good question lad, anything could lead you to whoever did this. All I ask is that you punish them accordingly, don't be too harsh."

"You got it grandpa Sunny. We need to ask other people about that night, maybe they saw something or overheard someone planning," I told the oddly muscular figure.

"Leave no stone unturned! Connections and love can find the answer to any problem, I died believing that and I haven't been proven wrong yet. Find the connections, love yourself and everyone you meet and you will find people willing to help you with anything." No wonder I loved talking to grandpa Sunny in the mornings, he was the most upbeat guy in the world!

Then the old man started whistling as he turned away. "This is the tune I whistled that night," he said as he made his way out.

My heart sank. I recognized that tune. The problem was, I didn't know where I recognized it from.