Death of James Magrid.

James Magrid was a simple man. He had no family in the town he lived in but worked hard. He knew a lot of the people in the town. His girlfriend was also a librarian in the local library. She was pretty familiar with all the people in town. Especially the detective. She had helped solve cases since they were young. She was not planning on being much more than a little librarian for the rest of her life. She lived with James Magrid. She paid for groceries and cooked. But James Magrid was a very important police officer. This made him very happy. He never had done anything wrong and had many friends. Everyone liked him fair enough, and was popular even at a young age.

The three were close. Now, they really had become so very close in their senior year of high school. The detective went off to school to be trained as a detective. James Magrid went to police school. And the librarian stayed to help take care of her grandmother. They came back after five years of school. She went to finish school in the evening. And that was the way it was to be for her. Now, James came back home first. His training finished earlier. She was so perfect. James found her irresistibly beautiful. She liked him fair enough. And without the detective there, they had no third wheel. She decided she had to be married. She went to a finishing school for something after all.

James decided that he loved her. They became close and she moved in with him. They were very happy. The detective had just retired. So the new detective got hired straight out of college. This was fantastic. Quickly, he found his friends. Sometimes, he felt like a third wheel. But soon he found himself less of a nuisance. So the three became close. The detective always had secretly had a crush on the librarian. But she was happy with James. So, he said nothing about it and went along with it. It burnt a hole in his heart. He was sad but remembered to stay happy. He wished them well. He may not be with the librarian but wanted her to be happy. Even if it was with James and not him.

Well, James really had an important action-filled job with the police. So one day, after patrol when he was on night duty, he was shot. No one knew by who, and the detective got called in immediately. Well, being it James who was dead, he had problems looking at the corpse. His friend of all these years was now shot dead. The detective moved in with the librarian, and they mourned the loss. "I swear by it! I will make sure that his murderer is found and put behind bars!" Swore the detective as they sobbed together in the living room. The librarian. James' widowed girlfriend could only sob. The man she loved was dead now.

The next day the detective checked fingerprints. He questioned all the inmates. All of them were clean, and they all said around ten at night there was a noise that sounded like a gun. They woke up and found him dead. They all claimed the same story. He checked the security cameras. From ten thirty-five to ten forty-five there was no footage. On any of the cameras. He searched the inmates, and they showed them sleeping. and waking up at ten forty. At ten thirty-four, however, you can see who is clearly male walk in and cut off the security footage.

The male is around thirty-seven and tired. An artist came in and made a sketch. They went from house to house. Apartment to apartment. They found five people who looked at the part. They dressed all of them in black hoodies and jeans. Only three had their own black hoodie and jeans. Only two had guns. One was long, and definitely not one that would have killed him. This was as tall as the man and an heirloom. Not one that he would have killed him. The other man had a small one. It looked like it. When they were shown the gun, they knew it was him.

But when they went to court, there was nothing else to suggest such a thing. They put him in jail anyway. For captivity. He swore he was in his room asleep at ten. His lawyer tried to show us that he had never used the gun, but it had been fired at least once for sure. The detective went to the librarian the next day. He asked for the suspect's records on every book. Recently, he had suspicious books. Ones about murder. "He said they were stupid mess up's that gave it away. He talked very in-depth about murder. About arson and killing people. How to do it. Scared me in all honesty." Said the librarian. She looked up at him. They looked at each other in the eyes. But then they broke eye contact blushing.

She liked him. The detective then thought. He pieced it all together. And then it really showed. He went to the man's phone and found it. The last piece. At ten-thirty that night he went out and at ten fifty he came home. In the black hoodie and with a small briefcase. He was sent to prison. James Magrid was avenged, but yet still dead. The librarian quit weeping and wasn't mad anymore. Soon, she began to be happy. Remembered that life was happy, even just with the detective. Soon she found herself falling in love with the detective. And the detective was still secretly in love. One morning they were talking in the kitchen when all of a sudden, some odd feeling came over the two.

Like an odd magnetic feeling. They kissed. And they smiled at each other. They kissed once more. "See you later," whispered the detective. Then he walked out. And the two weren't perfect. But they were happy together.