"I'm getting nowhere with this," Dameon grumbled to himself. It had been two and half hours since he'd gotten to the station and had found nothing of worth. He decided to go to the ice rink and see if any of the staff saw anything suspicious. He stood and stretched his stiff, cramped legs. He quickly ran his hand through his hair and gathered up the case files tossing them back into the drawer. "Hey Ty, I'm leaving. See you tomorrow," he called to his partner as he slipped into his jacket and stepped out into the frigid November air. 'It got cold really early this year,' Dameon thought as he got into his car and put the keys in the ignition.
Ricardo Diaz pulled into the Redding's driveway at 3:30 PM. He unbuckled his seatbelt and took a deep breath. He retrieved the envelope from the back seat and got out of the car. He walked cautiously up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Several minutes later, Abigail Redding appeared in the doorway wearing blue sweatpants and a blue and red sweater. Her eyes were red and she looked as if she hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in weeks. He knew how she felt; after all he'd suffered the exact same thing. "M-Mrs. Redding," Ricardo stammered, his voice coming out in a rasp. "Mr. Diaz what---?" she asked and then her voice trailed off. She was too tired and depressed to finish her question. Instead, she motioned for him to come in and he did so quickly. "I was correcting papers and I came across�Kara's," he said and handed her the envelope. "It's everything she's done this year. I thought you'd like to have it," he said and he turned to go. "Thank you," Abigail said. "W-w-would you like some coffee?" she questioned wearily. "No. That's all right. Thanks anyways," Ricardo said. "I have to get back to correcting," he finished and pushed open the screen door. He jogged back to his Chevy and got in. Backing out of the driveway, Ricardo headed home.
Back at the station, Tyler finished his coffee and tossed the cup like a basketball into the trash. Having nothing else to do, he got up and took out the files on Kara's case. He began to look at the pictures and an odd expression came across his face. His eyes fell not on her wounds but the skates. They seemed to be on the wrong feet. "Hmm that's interesting," he muttered absently to himself.
Dameon pulled into the small parking lot of the town's indoor ice rink. He rummaged in his glove compartment for a pen and pad of paper. He slowly climbed out of his car and headed for the entrance. By the number of cars in the lot, the place was fairly empty. Pushing open the heavy glass door, he stepped over the threshold and took in the smell of fast food, melting ice and sweat. Maneuvering through the familiar rows of benches, Dameon stopped at the courtesy desk and waited. "Can I help you?" came the voice of a man is his mid 30's with thinning red hair and dazzling brown eyes. He stood at a stooped 5'6'' and walked with a slight limp in his left leg. The story went that while he was at an International Tournament in France in '82, he fell and tore up his leg.
"Yes. Could you tell me who was here between 6:30 and 8:00 pm on November 18th?" Dameon asked, getting into his cop persona. "You some kind of detective?" the man asked. Sighing, Dameon took out his police badge and showed the man. "Yeah ok. Um, JoAnn Kennedy, Matt Allens, Roger Stephens that's me, and the janitors Jack Rubaski and Martin Short," Roger said. "What do Ms. Kennedy and Mr. Allens do here?" Dameon continued after taking down the names. "Jo is an instructor and Matt, well Matt's the manager of the place," Roger said with a tired look on his face. "Is Mr. All---?" Dameon began. "No. He's not here. He left on the 20th," Roger sighed. Taking special note of this Dameon ventured on. "Is Ms. Kennedy here?" "Yes. She's over there in the black sweatpants and shirt," the stooped man said, pointing to the woman sitting on the bench closest to the ice. "Thank you Mr. Stephens, you've been a great help," Dameon finished as he headed towards JoAnn. "Miss Kennedy?" Dameon questioned. "Yes, that's me," the woman said. She was in her late 20's with chin length sandy red hair and pale blue eyes. "My name is Dameon and I---," he began. "You're Kara's brother right/" the woman said, her eyes lighting up. "Ye-yes I am," Dameon said. "She was one of my students. It was such a horrible thing to find out she'd died," Jo said. "Your class runs from 6:30 until 8:15 correct?" Dameon inquired. "Yes," she answered. "Did someone come to pick Kara up that night?" Dameon pressed. "Do you have the right to be asking me questions?" JoAnn asked, annoyance resounding in her voice. "Yes. Yes I do," he said, thrusting his badge at her. "I don't know. I didn't see anyone but yeah someone probably did pick her up," Jo said, handing the badge back to him. Dameon rose, shoving his badge along with the pen and paper into his jacket. "Thank's for your time," he said and he walked away. He angrily pushed open the door and stormed to his car. "Back to the station," he mumbled to himself.