//------------------------------// // Case File 3 - Not Your Usual? // Story: Deadwood's Detective Agency // by TheFullCrumb //------------------------------// Springtime was always a busy time for those who needed investigations done. Deadwood sifted through one of the thirty-six requests he had on his desk, and sighed. Rainbow was off with her family, having left her guitar with him to take care of until she got back to help with the support group – after her association with Gilda and the ramifications of her accusations regarding the ‘Anon-A-Miss’ incident had allotted her two thousand hours of community service – and Sunset had gone off on a vacation with Big Joe and Minty, leaving him by himself. He hated being alone, especially with how much work he normally did without assistance. “Twenty requests for surveillance on husbands – geez, I’m a detective, not an investigative journalist. Do your own snooping. Junk. Ten missing persons requests, five having been sent from the Commissioner himself. Not enough time in the day for the amount I’m seeing. And the requests are a year old or more too… dammit, I may be good, but I’m not a miracle worker.” Leaning back in his chair, he set the paperwork down, sighing as he ran his hand through his shorter hair. Sunset had insisted on giving him a haircut and beard trim one day, and he had been impressed enough that he had kept the hair trimmed. The bell of the front door chiming had him leaning forward to look for whoever it was that entered while he was the only one working. As he scanned the room, he saw nothing, until a small bear was placed on his desk. Sighing, he stood up, raising an eyebrow as he heard giggling. Leaning around the side of his desk, he saw a small child with sky-blue, two-toned hair smiling and giggling as his front door chimed again for a second time. “Cozy! Now leave the poor detective alone!” Deadwood turned and stood up straight, staring at the Police Commissioner and his wife, Golden Glow. Chuckling, he picked up Cozy’s bear from his desk and knelt down, handing it back to her. As she snatched it, she darted back behind her parents, who smiled warmly at the detective. “Sorry to be a bother, Deadwood. It’s not every day that I get to just escape from work and have a family day.” “No problem, Irons. I trust this is just a social call?” Commissioner Irons shrugged, pulling a chair up as he looked around. “Mostly. Cozy’s in need of someone to watch her while my wife and I get some things taken care of. She’s a rather rambunctious little tyke, so keep a very close eye on her.” Deadwood smiled at Cozy, who planted her hands on Deadwood’s knees and jumped up and down. “Jump! Jump! Wanna jump!” With a smile, Deadwood picked up the small child, bouncing her on his knee as he flipped through files, trying to keep his attention on the giggling little girl on his knee while also continuing his search for a proper case that was not something he could just pass off to one of the few investigative journalists he knew. As he flipped through them, he noticed that the giggling had stopped. Glancing over at his knee, Deadwood noticed that Cozy was staring at a particular case file that he had yet to open. It was not there when he looked earlier, but he reminded himself that sometimes he did have a tendency to overlook small details if he was not focusing. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that Cozy had her eyes glued to the folder, as if it held some kind of magical power. Reaching out with his other leg and pulling another chair for the small girl to sit on, he plopped her down, grabbing her bear to hand off to her as he reached for the file with his free hand. Flipping it open, he could see the determined scrawl of the Police Commissioner’s handwriting, Irons’ distinctive signature designating it all as official paperwork. “Snuck a case on me, didn’t you? Well, what are friends for, huh? You’re certainly gonna owe me for this one, Irons.” Deadwood smiled as he started reading, the smile fading as he realized what he was reading. Two homicides, and two kids put in the hospital in critical condition, all of them killed in identical ways. Both were students, and they were attending a school with which he was unfortunately familiar. Cozy looked up at him as he bit his lip, his expression growing ever darker. “Unca Deadwood?” Deadwood looked down at the girl, sighing as he stood. Walking over to his coat rack, he lifted his hat, breathing slowly as he closed his eyes. “Cozy, how would you like to go for a drive with your uncle?” The happy giggling and bright smile was all the response Deadwood needed. With a flip of his coat, he dressed up, making certain his agency badge was clearly visible. Cozy rushed up beside him as he lifted a cellphone to his ear. “Sunset? Yeah, it’s Deadwood.” “Deadwood? What’s going on? I’m in the middle of my trip with Joe and Minty.” “Right, right. Well, have fun on your vacation.” With a click, he ended the call, sighing as he looked down at Cozy. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid.” The sedan rumbled to a halt in the parking lot set beside Canterlot High School. Deadwood had not been back since the ‘Anon-a-Miss’ incident, but he had to check up on a hunch, and his own thoughts needed to be clarified. As he stepped out, he could see a pair of police officers standing at the doorway, guarding what looked like a freshly installed metal detector. With a heavy sigh, he took off his hat, tossing it into his car while he picked up Cozy and approached them. “Officer Shield.” The one whose name he called jumped rigid, turning to face him before her face softened and a bright smile crossed her face. That expression fell instantly when she saw the badge pinned to his shirt, and the sour expression he wore. “This isn’t a social visit, is it?” “’Fraid not, Iron. This is about the case that Chief Irons left me with today when he left his daughter in my care for the day.” “Not very fair of him to push both on you. Sword, you got this?” “Yes ma’am. Won’t let anything get past me.” Iron and Deadwood left Officer Sword at the front entrance as he waved students through one at a time, stopping whoever caused it to beep. Shaking his head, Deadwood glanced around and set Cozy down on her feet. “All right, Cozy. Stick close with Uncle Deadwood. Go ahead and hold onto my coat if you want to.” With a smile and a half-buried face peeking up at him from his jacket, Deadwood smirked as he wandered the halls, glancing around as he realized it was very quiet. “It’s spring break, Deadwood. Not very many students want to be here. The ones that do are usually a part of clubs or other activities.” Deadwood turned to the voice, sighing when he saw Principal Celestia. “That’s not actually why I came to talk. You see-” “And who is this adorable little girl?” Deadwood turned his head to see Cozy bury her face deeper into his coat, hiding behind his leg as he chuckled. Picking the child up, he turned her to face Celestia, smirking as she buried her face in his shirt. “This is Cozy Glow. Chief Irons asks me every once in a while to watch his daughter, but he sort of dropped a case on me while leaving her with me. But as I said that’s not why-” “Don’t worry, I’m a friend of Chief Irons. You can leave her with-” “Celestia, for the love of everything good and wholesome, listen.” Celestia stopped approaching Cozy, her expression immediately flipping from friendly to annoyed. Standing back up, she rolled her eyes slightly, glancing back towards her office. Without a word, Deadwood nodded, following her inside as she slid a chair in front of her desk and took a seat behind it. Closing the door behind him, he took a seat quickly, Cozy balanced on one knee as he sighed. “Official business, if I’m not mistaken?” “Unfortunately. This is in regards to the two students that… actually, have you been approached by the police yet? I can’t share details if you have not.” From the stiffening of her shoulders, Deadwood presumed that she had, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course they came to you first. Do you recognize the students in the pictures? I need to be certain before I make a few calls.” With his free hand, he retrieved the pictures of the students that had met an unfortunate end, and placed them on her desk. The immediate drop of her shoulders made him pay far more attention as she stood up, staring at the wall as she sniffed. He knew the body language well – someone who cared deeply for people, and she knew what he was not asking out loud. “Snips and Snails. They were good kids… maybe a bit naive, and could hang around with the wrong people sometimes, but their hearts would never let them leave someone in a lurch. I- I had not seem them for a few weeks until the police arrived and showed me those… pictures.” “A few weeks? How many weeks had they been gone, and how long ago has it been since the police talked to you about it?” “A-about 2 weeks they were absent, and that was… oh, God, that was three weeks ago.” Celestia slumped down into her chair, the picture in front of Deadwood of a heartbroken mother rather than a principal who had lost two students. He could feel his heart breaking as he watched her body language, but breathing deeply, and a quick reminder to not get attached to the people in a case, kept him from losing his composure. He stood up, setting Cozy down on the chair before approaching Celestia from her side, placing a hand softly on her shoulder. “Whoever is responsible, I’ll make sure they’re brought to justice. I don’t make any promises, but just… make sure you take care of yourself, okay? Take a couple days off – I know you’re probably busy, but maybe Luna might consider helping you out? I know she’s busy with her vice-principal duties, but you need it. Anyways- where did Cozy go?” Celestia stared as Deadwood started to panic, looking around the office before throwing her door open, causing her no small amount of worry. With a shout, Deadwood sprinted off as she walked slowly to her door, seeing him kneel down in front of Cozy as she tried to wander into one of the myriad empty rooms in the school. A sad smile crept across her face as she watched Deadwood pick up Cozy and hug her, bouncing her slightly to calm her down. It felt like a movie in her eyes, like watching the character arc of someone who never thought he could care about others, but found that one child who makes him open up to others. “You really do care about Cozy, don’t you, Deadwood?” “I don’t have kids of my own, so being a surrogate uncle is better than anything else. Most of what I make goes into my agency, and into a lot of what I do in the community. Cozy, though? She’s a good kid. If I ever get to have kids, I hope they’re just as rambunctious as her.” Deadwood sighed as he looked around the quiet halls of Canterlot High. CHS was certainly a familiar place for him, considering how much he had needed to do to secure Sunset’s transfer to Crystal Prep, but to see it so quiet, so empty, it was somewhat unsettling. “The quiet gets to me too, sometimes. You hear footsteps in every creak of the doors, students walking the halls as if it was still full.” “Yeah, it’s… too quiet.” “Go do what you do, Deadwood.” With a silent nod, Deadwood walked towards the door, where Iron Shield stood still, shaking her head. Tapping her watch, she sighed, motioning towards the door. “We’ve got work to do, Deadwood.” “’We?’” “Sugarcube Corner. It’s near the alley where Snips’ and Snails’ bodies were found. Thought you might want to check it out first. It should still be cordoned off, but that doesn’t mean that people paid attention to the signage. We’ll take your car, right?” Deadwood managed a weak smile at Iron, sighing as he approached his car, opening the rear doors and seating Cozy on the rear passenger seat. Buckling her in, he patted her head, smiling into the little girl’s eyes. “You doing okay now, Cozy?” “Unca, we dwiving mo’?” “Yeah, we’re driving more. Might grab you some ice cream, though don’t tell your dad, okay?” “Okay!” Shutting the door, Deadwood looked over at Iron, who raised an eyebrow at him. She cocked her head to the side, placing her hand on her hip as she rolled her eyes at him, chuckling as she got in the car. Deadwood hopped in, andwith a quick turn, the sedan rumbled to life, the radio spooling up and playing a song that Deadwood did not remember being on the station he usually listened to, but started nodding to anyways. “My heart’s a stereo, it beats for you so listen close...” Deadwood smiled, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other tapping away on the center console, only pausing when he felt a hand on top of his. Glancing over, he saw Iron’s hand on top of his. Smiling wider, he kept his eyes on the road as she pulled out a notebook, flipping through pages. He barely even registered that her hand had left his when she spoke up. “Snips and Snails, age 14 and 15 respectively. Good kids, average grades. The other two… Crystal Prep students, actually. Hospitalized with severe injuries and in critical care. Looks like they arrived at the school in a taxi, actually, according to eyewitness reports from the hospital receptionist and some of the orderlies. Sugarcoat and a… Lemon Zest. Good kids, extremely competitive. Looks like they used to have one intense rivalry with some of the girls from Canterlot High. Last I checked, they were in medically induced comas due to their injuries received. So...” “So… what are you getting at, Iron? Is it supposed to be some sort of inter-school rivalry? We’re not going to Sugarcube Corner first. I’m going to go talk to someone I’ve had dealings with before. I’m going to need you to keep an eye on Cozy while I do so – the people this girl is helping are not… savory individuals. They’ll probably respond better to me than to you.” As they continued on in silence, the radio quietly singing as they let their minds run through the thoughts they needed to organize, Iron looked down at her notebook, sighing as she closed it slowly. “It’s Gilda, isn’t it?” “Yeah. She’s under constant supervision, but she’s been working at the local prison as a volunteer for her community service. She’s still under house arrest due to what she did, but she is a minor, so she’s trying to work hard and at least make up for what she did. Lord knows she’s trying.” As they left the city, driving along a well-worn length of pavement, trees and meadows passing by, Deadwood watched the prison come into view, the minimum-security building not as imposing as the word ‘prison’ would suggest. However, its stark concrete walls and guard towers spoke of a different sort of intimidation. Deadwood sighed as he turned into the prison parking lot, turning off the sedan as soon as he was parked. Iron looked back at Cozy, sighing as she glanced at Deadwood. “Are you sure you want to do this alone? It’s not like I can’t have a guard escort you-” “I’ll be fine, Iron. This is… like home territory, in a way.” With a deep breath, Deadwood closed his eyes, leaning back and biting his lip. “But I will admit, I really don’t want to go in there. I’ve put a lot of people away over the years doing what I do, and those people don’t easily forgive. Keep a close eye on the kid – she almost got away from me at Canterlot High.” Deadwood opened his door, taking a breath of the woodland air. It had been a unanimous decision to build the prison the distance they chose – clean air, no traffic to speak of down the old highway, and there was a lot more to learn in the woods than in the city. The yard held trees that the prisoners were required to care for, to understand how to care for something that was not themselves. For the majority, it worked, as they felt a deeper connection with the world than they previously ever considered, but for the incurable sociopaths that crossed ways with Deadwood, they would often carve chunks of bark off to denote the failings of what the prison was trying to instill in them. Approaching the front gate, Deadwood flashed his agency badge, nodding at the gate guards. A few of them knew him personally, though he never asked their names, while most knew him by reputation. Taking slow, measured breaths, he entered the main lobby, where the Warden stood, his face even and neutral as he greeted Deadwood. “It’s a good day, is it not, Detective? Come, sit down. We were just about to have lunch. I hear the new volunteer makes excellent mashed potatoes.” Nodding, Deadwood handed his coat off to a guard, letting him wave the scan-wand over him to deign if he was carrying weapons or any contraband of the sort. Taking a seat with the Warden, he clasped his hands together, looking around. A few glances from some of the inmates told him of the foul nature of his reputation among them – he had not pulled his punches in dealing with some of them, though he gave as good as he got. A phantom pain ached in his shoulder, causing him to instinctively rub it. “I’m here to talk to someone.” “Of course, of course. An inmate? Someone to press for information? I can’t let you do that without a police warrant, but as a private detective, I doubt you’d come across one of-” “I need to talk to Gilda. It’s not an interrogation, I just… need some answers.” Nodding towards Deadwood, the Warden waved a guard closer, whispering into his ear. With a quick step, the guard marched over to where Gilda was preparing her portion of the lunch-time meal, and quietly spoke to her. Deadwood glanced over, leaning back to see what was happening. Gilda appeared to be trying to get the guard to leave, until her eye caught a glimpse of him. Her shoulders relaxed as she appeared to give in, being led by the guard over to Deadwood’s table. “What do you want, Dweebwood?” The Warden narrowed his eyes at Gilda, motioning the guards away. Deadwood flexed his fingers before motioning to the other side of the table. “It’s Deadwood, but I can understand you forgetting. This isn’t an interrogation, but I do need to ask you a few questions.” “Fine, but it’s not like I know anything.” “Good, then we’ll see just what you know.” Withdrawing a pen from his pocket, Deadwood tapped on the table, pulling a notepad from his pants pocket. “Have you been approached by the police yet about an incident that occurred maybe 5-ish weeks ago?” Deadwood watched as Gilda sagged, leaning forward on the table. Her posture told him she knew, but she had not processed it yet. He watched as the headstrong girl let a couple tears fall, her face a mask of sorrow. “Y-Yeah. Snips and Snails. I… I heard what happened.” “I’m assuming you were here when the police came to tell you that two of your classmates had been murdered?” “M-murdered?” Deadwood set his jaw, frowning deeply as he ran his finger over the coil binding of his notepad. He thought about actually opening it up, but none of what he was asking would have been admissible in any sort of court of law, and he was more trying to gauge her reaction rather than her words. “Yeah. Police deemed it a double-homicide initially… until the Crystal Prep students showed up at the hospital in critical condition. Two students I’m aware competed in the Friendship Games last year against your school, two girls by the names of Sugarcoat and Lemon Zest. According to the reports, oddly enough, those girls were hanging out with Snips and Snails, two people they probably would not have if it had not been for the… weirdness surrounding that last event. I would ask, but anything related to so-called ‘magic’ is beyond my expertise.” Deadwood put his pen on the notepad, sliding it towards Gilda with his eyes narrowed. “W-what do you want me to do?” “Write down anything you might think could help. I want to figure out why two young boys were killed in cold blood, and why their secret friends ended up in such a bad state.” Gilda considered the notepad as Deadwood spoke, biting her lip before pushing it back towards him. Shaking her head, she shakily stood up, she glanced at the Warden, sighing when he nodded. “Wish I could help. Really, I do. But I have to get back to work. Community service and all that.” “Good luck, Gilda.” “Good luck, Detective.” With a sneer and a deep breath, Gilda returned to the expression she wore before she had seen Deadwood, waving at some of the inmates who she seemed to have gained a rapport with. Smiling, Deadwood slowly stood, before the Warden grabbed his hand, staring intently at him before letting go. “Detective, how did you come to the conclusion the boys were murdered?” “The photographs. Blood pattern is all wrong for them killing each other.” With that last statement, Deadwood left the Warden in stunned silence, grabbing his coat from the guards before leaving. Glancing out at the parking lot, he watched Cozy bounce up and down on Iron’s lap, happily playing with her bear as she smiled. Rubbing the back of his head, he returned to the car, opening the door and sliding into his seat. Iron stopped playing with Cozy to fix her gaze onto Deadwood as he sighed, putting his forehead on the dashboard. “I’m gonna guess it didn’t go well, did it?”| “That would be an understatement. She didn’t know anything, and she almost broke down as I talked to her. Either she’s as broken up as she looks, or she’s the world’s most professional sociopath. Considering her age, I’d rather err on the side of her not knowing anything. All I can think of is either we go to the hospital or we go to Sugarcube Corner. I’m out of options if we can’t figure it out. I mean, Crystal Prep and Canterlot High have been bitter rivals since time eternal, at least, since I can remember. Now, the reports say that they are more cooperative to one another, though some grudges still stand!” Deadwood slammed his head against the top portion of his steering wheel, grunting every time he hit it. “I! Just! Don’t! Get! It! If my assistant was here, she’d probably tell me I was being silly, that I had overlooked a… clue. Do you have a list of the students from Crystal prep that were a part of the Crystal Prep Shadowbolts?” Deadwood gazed expectantly at Iron, waiting until she brought a list of students out from her notebook. Snatching it quickly from her, he tapped near the middle of the list, smiling as he started the sedan, buckling up as he threw it into reverse without warning. “Whoa, Deadwood, what’s gotten into you!?” “The missing clue! It’s right there, in front of me! How could I have missed it?! We’re going to Crystal Prep!” The grandiose structure of Crystal Prep High stood as a stark contrast to the skyscrapers surrounding it, the students walking around at the end of the school day in their striking uniforms. Deadwood, however, looked completely out of place with a police officer beside him. As they had driven up to Crystal Prep. Deadwood had explained where his mind had gone – someone at Crystal Prep had to have been the one behind it, as the only ones who actually knew about what was going on between the Canterlot High students and their fellow Crystal Prep students were the members of the Shadowbolts. Social media had helped in confirming some of his suspicions, but the clues fit too perfectly. “Still can’t believe that is who you set your sights on after all. I would have thought an angry father, or a vengeful uncle, not a student!” “I was surprised by the conclusion I drew too, but we’re here right before he leaves, and we’ve got an idea as to how to deal with him. I don’t want to hurt him, but he probably thinks he’s in the clear, and he’s more likely to make a mistake...” Deadwood trailed off as he saw the young man in question arguing with people who had apparently been his friends before, but according to some of the people that Iron herself had talked to, he had started to act strange, more distant, erratic. It fit perfectly, but Deadwood needed him to slip up, to do something out of the ordinary compared to what the reports said. Approaching the school, they stopped as the young man turned and caught Iron’s eye. The expression on his face was panic and fear, tell-tale signs of someone who had something to hide. Iron set her stance, ready to sprint in case he rabbited. He hesitated, moving his feet in different directions as he tried to figure out his own thoughts. “Go ahead, run. You’ll be on the ground in no time.” As Iron whispered to herself, the student dropped his backpack, sprinting down the front steps of the school and around the corner. Without even a moment’s notice, Iron took off like a hunter after their marked prey. Deadwood sighed as he approached the steps, picking up the young man’s bag and shaking it before pulling out a plastic bag with bloody paper towels in it. Iron rounded the corner with the young man, keeping him steady as he struggled, snarling and swearing at her. Deadwood lifted the bag out of the backpack, dropping the bag on the ground before fishing a pair of latex gloves from his pocket. Slowly opening the bag, he withdrew a knife that had been hastily cleaned, frowning as he looked at the young man. His wavy black hair was a mess, his face scratched up and his glasses bent at a weird angle as Iron forced him to sit down. “Jet Set. I can’t even begin to tell you how disappointed I am in the fact you threw your school career and your scholarships away for, what, an old grudge?” “I would not even wipe my boots with the mere assumption that that knife is mine-” “Then why did you run? Why did you try to escape?” Jet Set sat down on the steps, burying his face in his hands as he looked to be trying to figure out how to get out of the situation he found himself in. Balling his hands up, he gripped the end of his knees, his expression telling Deadwood that they had him dead-to-rights. “Those Canterlot rejects, they had no right to sully the talent of some of our school’s finest! They had no right to touch them. They may have been friends, but the way those boys looked at them, it was disgusting for someone of their… class to be associating with Sugarcoat and Lemon Zest! I-” Deadwood had listened for long enough, pulling his cellphone from his jacket pocket. As Iron stared Jet Set down, the latter swearing and cursing her as Deadwood walked away, returning to his car and where Cozy was waiting. She had fallen asleep in the backseat as they had returned to the city, and Deadwood checked on her before his call went through to Chief Irons. “Yeah. Chief, it’s me, Deadwood- yeah, I know about the case you left me- no, I found the- Crystal Prep, one of the members of the Shadowbolts team from the Friendship Games. Jet Set, if you could believe. Cozy’s fine. She fell asleep as we were driving- yeah, I said we. Had some help from Officer Shield- I understand she’ll get a reprimand for this, but if it was not for her, I doubt I would have been able to solve this in as timely a fashion as I have. Twenty minutes? Sure, I can...” Deadwood trailed off as he watched two police cars screech to a halt in front of the school with their sirens blaring. “Make that twenty seconds, I guess.” Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he frowned and sighed, returning to Iron at the steps. Chief Irons was standing over the young man in question, glaring him down until he stopped speaking. Deadwood shook his head, clearing his throat until Irons turned his attention to him. “Deadwood.” “Chief.” “Why do you always find the thread that we can’t? It’s like you can see the connections in everything.” Deadwood stopped as he took off his hat, sighing as he sat down on the steps, watching Iron Shield and several other officers take Jet Set to an awaiting car for transport to the station. With a deep breath, Deadwood tapped his pocket, pulling out an old pack of cigarettes, tapping and shaking two into his hand. Offering one to Irons, he lifted one to his mouth, drawing an old lighter from his other pocket. Sighing as he lit up his own, Deadwood looked up at the sky, biting his lip as he breathed in. “Can’t explain it, Chief. It’s almost like… the connections are there, but it feels like I’m the only one who puts them together.” He held his lit cigarette in his hand, sighing as he turned it over and tapped the ash off the end. “I hate smoking, but it always ends up being in the spring that I get so overworked that even a single smoke is enough to relax me. As for Jet Set… I was only about seventy-five percent sure, and him running away basically solidified my certainty.” Chief Irons chuckled as he smoked his own cigarette, elbowing Deadwood when Iron Shield returned to them, taking off her hat and running her hand through her short bob cut of dark hair. Deadwood, standing up and stamping out his cigarette, held out his hand, shaking hers when she reciprocated. “Always a pleasure, Deadwood. Chief, you wanted to speak with me?” Deadwood turned away from the both of them as Irons began dressing down Iron Shield in front of every cop present, about abandoning her post because she found it ‘boring,’ and how she neglected her necessary duty. Returning to his car, he looked in the back, sighing as he saw Golden Glow on the other side of his car, holding Cozy. Smiling back at Deadwood, she gave a small wave before pointing into the back seat, where a small tray sat where Cozy had before. “You’ve got to be kidding me...” Deadwood threw open the rear door of his vehicle, slowly lifting the top of the tray. “Caramel toffee cookies. Damn. Could have a heart attack from this.” Deadwood filled me in about what happened when I was away. To think that the two people who kept being my friends would actually be… destroyed over something so minuscule as the perception that Jet Set held. I’ve heard of Jet Set in the pony world, but he’s not even a footnote compared to the human one. Lemon Zest and Sugarcoat are still in pure shock about the day it happened. It’s been about a month since they were released from the hospital, but they bear the mental scars. The physical heals, but the mind can only handle so much. Rainbow Dash and them seem to be helping out enough in getting them through this rough patch – wish they would have shown that much compassion to me. Indigo Zap, one of their friends, actually reached out to me to try and welcome me to Crystal Prep for the Spring-Summer semester! I’ve done all the catch-up work I can reasonably get done, but we’re dealing with a school filled with overachievers – I think I’ll fit in quite well after orientation. Anyways, it’s getting late, and Deadwood still needs the last of these old files, well, filed. Have a good night, Princess Twilight. Sunset closed the journal, sighing as she looked over at Deadwood, passed out on his desk. After Sunset had returned, he had spent the better part of a day trying to justify his investigation style and how he figured out it was Jet Set, but it was clear to her that even he did not know – it was almost like it fell into place like a piece of a puzzle. “Weirdness seems to follow you around, doesn’t it, Deadwood?” “It’s not by choice, you know. Finish putting those files away, and we’ll...” Deadwood stared at a photo that had slid off his desk, landing neatly on the floor next to it. It was an old photo of him and then Inspector Irons, smiling in front of the old Sugarcube Corner building with the building in pieces. Picking it up and dusting it off, he chuckled, showing it to Sunset. “Old case?” “First one, actually. Serial arsonist. Ten years ago. First time I ever worked with the police. I’ll tell you the story someday, if the mood strikes me-” Deadwood glanced up as he heard the bell on his door ring, glancing towards the front door. Chief Irons stood there, wearing casual clothes with Iron Shield standing beside him in a tidy shirt-and-jeans combo. With a chuckle, the Chief snatched the photo from Deadwood’s hand, dragging over several chairs. “You know, if he won’t tell you the story, I will. Ten years ago, when I was just a lowly Inspector...”