Fire on Match Street: Who Killed Adams?

Well, there it was. The large fire that was currently burning my house down in the middle of a thunderstorm, ironic. I thought Chelsea Adams meant figuratively when she screamed that she was on fire, but when the curtain was set ablaze, we knew something was up. Can’t believe she actually died with a lampshade on her head. Guess she found her perfect match because the lampshade was decorated with lots of nail polish and once she stumbled into Smoky Steve, who was in the middle of lighting up his fifteenth cigarette in the backyard, I guess that was that. I was just in the middle of not hearing her as she yelled over the loudspeakers before she danced off somewhere else. Talk about a killer party. But there’s something that’s scratching at my skin. How did she dance all the way across the house, to Smoky Steve’s lighter, just to run back in the living room and have time to scream out for help? It was too fast, she couldn’t have been all the way over there, it’s just not possible.

Seeing Chelsea’s covered body being rolled out was the last straw. If something happened behind the scenes to cause this, I will figure it out.

So, as the few people, that were at the party, attempted to leave the area, drenched in rain, I called out to them, leading them to my guest house and locking the door quickly. Turning to the three people that could’ve done it, I see a mix of nonchalant and stressed expressions, and the tension in the room only heightened when I opened my mouth.

“Someone in this room killed Adams,” Angel, Chelsea’s cousin, was the first to crack as she sunk to the floor, already begging for mercy before anyone was picked out.

“I didn’t mean it, I swear!” Lightning crackled and shook the windows as she started to sob out what sounded like a confession.

“Wait Angel, what are you talking about? I did it!” A concerned Cole, Chelsea’s boyfriend, helped Angel up as he… also confessed? What’s going on?

“Wha- no, it was me!” Last but not least, Smoky Steve broke his calm, cigarette-scented composure as he joined Cole in comforting Angel.

“Okay, just what is going on here? We’re not leaving till this is all figured out,” I sternly announced as the three suspects go to the small couch in the middle of the room. 

“Two weeks ago… we made a plan to kill Chelsea,” Angel sobbed out as she cried into her hands. Well, I was not expecting that at all. A plan why? Who would feel the need or want to kill Chelsea? Sure, she could talk your head off, but why would someone want to burn hers off? Especially three of the closest people in her life? 

Angel may have been Chelsea’s cousin, but they were as close as sisters, and don’t get me wrong, she’s very kind, but someone who has to cheat to fill out the name line can’t just fully plan out a murder. Cole and Chelsea were in a three-year-long relationship and seemed very much in love, but he’s smart enough to be the barons behind this operation. And Smoky Steve was just… Smoky Steve. He was calm, cool, collected, and coughing up cigarette ash half of the time. But he is a very good listener, and I think Chelsea came to him for advice multiple times while she was alive. I’m not sure about how smart he is, but I think a third of his brain in pure smoke at this point. 

I motioned for someone to continue since Angel melted into a puddle of tears, and we would all drown in it if I asked her to keep talking about this so-called plan.

“Chelsea’s mom paid us to kill her. They were fighting almost every day and Chelsea said that she planned to move out with the portion of the money she got from her dad when he died. Her mom seemed so… evil. When she talked about her, it wasn’t even like Chelsea was her daughter just someone she needed to get rid of. Her mom wanted the money all for herself. So… she threatened our families’ lives and made us pick. Sara… you know I can’t lose my mom. You know how rich Mrs. Adams is. She has people everywhere. Watching us,” Cole’s voice cracked harder than the thunder outside as he explained everything. I know that it had to be very hard to choose between his mom and the girl he loved. That’s something you don’t get over, or spend years trying to.

“But why you guys?” I was genuinely curious. If she had men that were targeting them, why didn’t she just have them do the job?

“We were closer than anyone else. Had more chances to... You know,” Smokey Steve’s eyes darkened as he jumped into the conversation, looking very rigid as he leaned forward on the edge of the couch. 

“And now that you know, you’re most likely gonna be watched too from now on … She’s probably assumed that everyone here knows what’s up. Our friend group isn’t big,” I nodded in agreement. Steve is right. If she’s ruthless enough to send people to kill her own daughter, what’s one more person to kill to protect herself? We have to save ourselves now. It was already too late for Chelsea.

“We’ll catch her. Make her confess,” I paced the room, hearing my boots squish on the wet carpet. The rain was coming down harder than ever, and we were already running out of time. Who knows, Mrs. Adams could have already sent her men here to take us out before anyone had the idea to turn her in. I think I got something, but it’s a long shot. She’s smart and evil, and we’re… us. 

“I think I got it… We go over to her house, say we want to check on her and how she’s doing. Tell her how concerned and sad we are about Chelsea’s death. That’s how we get in. And, as for the confession, that’s where you guys come in. We don’t know who she’ll choose so all of you will have to wear mics. She’ll talk to you guys, drop her act, and maybe even ask how it went. Get her to talk about every detail,” The three friends looked at me like I was crazy, but what other choice do we have? We have to fight fire with fire, so with that, we walked out of the guest house, feeling eyes on us already. We had less time than I thought, and as we got into Cole’s car and drove off of Match street, that was confirmed. A large, black van was following us all the way to Mrs. Adams’ house. It was time and whether we were ready or not, it was now or nothing.

I never knew an innocent party could go up in smoke like this.